Chapter Four – Captive

Cassia’s Pov

Cassia’s eyes flew open to blinding light. She winced and tried to move, but for a moment, she could not breathe.

This isn’t my apartment. She muttered to herself as she came to. The faint smell of leather filled her nostrils and she could also smell cigar smoke. She sat up too fast, her wrists tugging against something. Her hands were tied together, but not too tightly.

Wtf? She was in a penthouse. The room was opulently furnished, and she could see the sprawling city of New York from the floor to ceiling windows. Her eyes landed on a signet ring resting on the mantel beside where she lay.

Cassia’s throat tightened, and she increased her struggle against the rope holding her hands. She knew that ring. It was exactly like Elena’s father’s ring. Elena had once told her that every Mafia family had one which they used in business.

Elena. What did you do? Then the door opened, and in came the most dangerously beautiful man she’d ever seen.

He was tall, sharply built, his presence so absolute that the glass walls seemed to bend around him. He wore a white shirt, which was undone just enough so she could see his tattoos on his muscular chest. He had gray eyes, the color of a storm before lightning split the sky. His hair was dark and swept back without a strand out of place.

Lucien Valez. She’d seen him before in magazines, on Forbes covers, but she’d never thought she would meet him in person.

“You’re awake.” When he said those words to her, she blinked, trying her best to get used to the sonorous sound of his voice. For a moment she wondered what he would sound like in bed, and then shook her head to dispel that thought.

 “Where am I?” She asked.

“Safe,” he said. 

Her hands trembled against the rope. “Why am I here? How can I be safe if this isn;t my apartment?”

The man cocked his head to the side as he looked at her. He was clearly amused. “Nice observation…” He closed the distance between them in three quick strides, bent until he was level with her, and then lifted her head to his with his finger. “But if you answer this one little question, I’ll take you back to your apartment.”

Cassia eyed him warily. “What question?”

Then he smiled. The simple action made his face light up, and for a minute he didn’t look so threatening. “Now, you’re talking. I need Elena Ramirez.”

Cassia blinked and tried to scuttle backwards, but he held her still. “Elena? I don’t know where she is.”

“You’re her closest friend.”

“I haven’t spoken to her in years.” Cassia was visibly trembling now. Fuck you Elena. She kept saying in her mind. She was in trouble because of her.

“You’re lying." He did not raise his voice at her, but then again, he didn’t have to. She was deathly scared at this point.

“I don’t know where she is. I don’t know what she’s done. She showed up at my apartment, uninvited, and then she disappeared. That’s all.”

Lucien smiled. “She was at your apartment? But you said you haven’t spoken to her in years.” Her lips parted, realizing her mistake, as his gray eyes burned into her. “What did she tell you?”

“Nothing!” 

“Try again, Cassia.”

“I don’t know anything!” Cassia snapped, her voice trembling with fear and annoyance. “I’m a violinist, not a criminal. If you think tying me up and glaring at me is going to make me Elena’s keeper, you’re insane.”

Lucien said nothing for a while, and then he leaned in, close enough that his voice ticked her ear. “If you won’t tell me where she is, I’ll find other ways to motivate you.”

Her chest heaved. “What does that mean?”

“Your mother. She lives in a nice neighborhood in Queens, isn’t it? It would be a shame if something happened to her.”

The color drained from Cassia’s face, and now her fear crossed the line into anger. “Don’t you dare touch her.”

Lucien studied her, his lips curving into the faintest ghost of a smile. “Then don’t make me.” He whipped out a small knife.

“Please, don’t do that. I’m innocent, I swear." Cassia pleaded, sure that he was going to do something to her.

Instead, he cut the rope. “Don’t even bother trying to run away. You can’t.”

He let her go, and then left the room, and in his absence, Cassia let the tears she’d been struggling to hold back fall. She wished she could travel back in time, and throw Elena out of her house that night.

She was given food by a blonde middle aged housekeeper, and then led to her room, which was heavily guarded with two hefty and scary looking men.

The room was big enough to be an apartment, and she realised that there was no escape for her.

The bathroom, at least, she could enjoy. For a moment, the hot spray of the shower made her feel human again, her muscles loosening under the rush of water. She closed her eyes, and let herself breathe.

But when she stepped out, steam curling around her, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Lucien stood in the doorway. 

She clutched her towel tightly to her chest, as his eyes swept over her.

Cassia was aware of his eyes following the water droplets sliding down her collarbone and the pale curve of her thigh. He didn’t speak, and he didn’t move. Just watched her, and that burned hotter than words.

“Get out,” she snapped, half-commanding and half-pleading.

Lucien’s stare lingered one beat too long before he turned, his hand brushing the doorframe. “Be quick. We’re not finished.”

The door shut behind him, and Cassia’s knees nearly buckled. Her skin still prickled under his stare.

Cassia pulled the towel tighter around her body, her heart hammering against her ribs. And for the first time, she realized that this wasn’t just about Elena. This man could destroy her, piece by piece, until there was nothing left.

And she was afraid she would enjoy it.