Chapter 06: The Dove in the Cage

Nina’s Point of View

The air in the room was heavy—too heavy for dawn.

Nina’s body ached, every muscle sore from the night before. Her skin felt cold despite the blanket still clinging to her shoulders. When she looked up, Hades stood by the window, staring out into the pale light bleeding through the glass. He didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

Every part of the room screamed his—the order, the silence, the power.

She hesitated before standing, careful not to make noise. But his eyes still caught her, sharp and deliberate, as if they could cut through her thoughts.

Her throat was dry when she finally managed to speak. “Can I… have something to wear?” Her voice was soft, almost trembling.

Hades turned slightly, his gaze sliding toward her. For a heartbeat, she thought he’d ignore her. Then, in that cold, deep tone that made her chest tighten, he said, “Closet. Pick something. Whatever fits.”

It wasn’t kindness. It was command disguised as permission.

Still, it was something.

Nina nodded, clutching the blanket tighter as she walked toward the large closet by the wall. Every step made her pulse race faster, afraid he might change his mind. When she opened the door, she froze. Rows of perfectly arranged clothes greeted her—silk, cotton, and satin. None of them looked like they belonged to a man.

Her breath caught. Whose were these?

But she pushed the thought away. She just needed to cover herself.

She picked the simplest thing she could find—a white shirt and soft shorts—and turned back. Hades was still there, still watching her, unreadable. His presence filled the entire room like a storm she couldn’t escape.

“I’ll… take a shower first,” she murmured, almost unsure if she was allowed to.

For the first time, he looked faintly surprised, one dark brow arching. He said nothing, but his silence was louder than any curse. Nina’s heart hammered as she waited for him to speak—an order, a threat, anything.

Nothing came.

He simply turned his eyes back to the window, jaw clenched, as if debating whether to punish her for daring to sound human.

She swallowed hard. Her bare feet padded softly against the marble floor as she made her way to the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind her, and she pressed her back against it, letting out the breath she’d been holding.

Her hands trembled. She can't stop herself from crying.

She looked at her reflection in the fogged mirror—bruised lip, tired eyes, the faint trace of fear hiding behind forced calm.

The shower hissed to life, steam curling up around her. The warm water create a soothing yet painful feeling to her due to her bruises. For the first time since being dragged into his world, she was alone. But even now, she could still feel him—his eyes, his control, the weight of what he’d done to her.

And what he could still do.

Nina sobbed. She felt hopeless, trapped. She still couldn’t understand why she was here. If only she had known, she would never have accepted the job offered by Xerxis. Now, she was caught in the middle of a Mafia war.

Just when she thought she was alone, the bathroom door opened. Hades stepped inside, his presence sharp and threatening. She shook her head, instinctively trying to back away—but she knew there was no escape. She was well and truly trapped.

Nina sobbed. She felt hopeless. Caged. She still didn’t understand what she was doing here. If only she had known, she wouldn’t have accepted the job offered to her by Xerxis. Now, she was trapped in this Mafia war.

Just when she thought she was alone, the bathroom door opened, revealing Hades with a clear intent to harm her. She shook her head and instinctively tried to get away from him—but who was she fooling? She knew she couldn’t escape. She knew she was truly caged.

Without hesitation, Hades slammed her against the wall, forcing a scream from her lips. He kissed her violently, and when she tried to pull away, he grabbed her jaw and held her still. He continued to kiss her until she was out of breath. She had learned that Hades liked to kiss her until she was gasping for air—and just when she was about to pass out, he would let go. Giving her a taste of both pain and comfort.

"Please... Hades. I'm still sore," she whimpered, her voice barely audible.

He tilted his head, lips curling into a cruel smirk. His eyes gleamed with sadistic delight as he traced her cheek with the back of his hand — a mockery of tenderness.

"Aww, poor thing," he cooed, voice dripping with venom. "Do you really think I give a damn? I’m not here for your comfort. I’m here to unravel what makes you so special that Xerxis would entrust his bastard son to you. What’s your secret, huh?" His tone sharpened, each word a blade.

She stared at him, trembling. Her lips parted, but no sound came. She wanted to scream that she knew nothing. Fear strangled her voice.

Finally, she managed a whisper. "I... I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please... stop. It hurts."

His expression darkened. The air around him turned suffocating.

"You spoke without permission," he growled. "And you dare call me Hades?"

He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "From now on, you will address me as Master. You speak only when I allow it. You breathe only when I decide you deserve it."

He grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "I said — do you understand?"

"Y-Yes... I... u-understand," she gasped, her voice trembling.

He didn’t wait. Without warning, he lifted her effortlessly, his grip bruising. She tried to push him away, but it was useless — his strength overpowered her. Her whimpers echoed in the cold room.

He pinned both of her wrists above her head with one hand, the other roaming with cruel intent. His touch wasn’t gentle — it was possessive, punishing. Her body flinched under every pinch, every grab.

She wasn’t ready. She never had been. When had she ever wanted this with him? He took what he wanted, without remorse, without pause. Their bodies collided violently, and she struggled to adjust — she had no experience, no preparation. He was her first. And he had stolen that from her.

Her dreams of giving herself to someone she loved — someone kind — shattered. Hades was none of that. He was chaos wrapped in flesh. A man without control. A man who fed on dominance.

She could feel him deep inside her. It was unbearable. Pain bloomed in every nerve. Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed, begging him to stop.

"Fuck, you're so tight, my little dove," he growled. "Only for me."

She winced at his words. No filter. No mercy.

Her body ached — her chest, her thighs, everything. She bit her lip to suppress the scream clawing its way out, but it was no use. Her eyes burned from crying, the flickering light above barely masking her agony.

"Please... it hurts so much," she whispered.

"Good," he hissed. "I want you to feel it."

"You're evil," she spat through tears.

"I never claimed otherwise."

He moved with more brutality, his mouth crashing onto hers, biting her lip until it bled. Her soft whimpers were the only sound left in the room — a haunting melody of pain.

When he was done, he let her fall to the floor like discarded prey. She thought it was over.

But Hades wasn’t finished.

He grabbed her waist and bent her over. Again, without warning, he took her from behind. She screamed — raw and broken — and he reveled in it. Her hands reached for the wall, desperate for support, but he seized them and twisted them behind her back.

Now she was bent, restrained, her forehead pressed against the cold wall. Her only support was her own trembling body.

"P-please... stop," she sobbed.

All she could do was beg.

She stayed frozen, her forehead pressed against the cold wall, her breath shallow and ragged. Every nerve in her body screamed, but she didn’t move. Her body trembled, not just from pain, but from the weight of fear that coiled around her like a vice.

She felt his release inside her.

He stepped back, letting her collapse to the floor. Her knees hit the tile with a dull thud, but she barely felt it. Her mind was spiraling — flashes of her old life, her hopes, her quiet dreams — all of it felt like a distant memory now.

He showered, leaving her crumpled on the floor.

The door slammed shut behind him, and silence returned. She cried harder.

She stepped out of the shower, her body sore and her mind numb. One of the maids was waiting silently outside the bathroom, eyes lowered, and without a word, guided her through the mansion.

As they walked, Nina took in her surroundings. The mansion was massive — grand hallways, polished marble floors, chandeliers that sparkled like stars. It was beautiful. Too beautiful for the monster who lived in it. The contrast made her stomach twist. How could something so elegant belong to someone so cruel?

Eventually, they reached the kitchen. Hades was already there, seated at the long dining table, calmly eating breakfast — as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just done something barbaric hours ago.

"Sit and eat," he ordered, not looking up.

She obeyed. Her body moved on instinct. She was starving — it felt like she hadn’t eaten in a month. The food in front of her was warm and rich, but every bite tasted like ash.

"From now on," Hades said between bites, "you’ll be tasked with cleaning this mansion alongside the maids. You can roam around — but don’t even think about escaping." He paused, then added with a smirk, "Or I’ll let my dogs chase you down and tear you apart."

She nodded quickly, as if house chores were something foreign to her. Then, hesitantly, she whispered, "C-can I speak?"

He looked up, eyes cold. "No. I like that dirty mouth of yours silent."

She looked away, biting her tongue. All she had wanted to ask was if she could tend the garden. She’d seen it through the window — a lush, overgrown space begging for care. She loved gardening. The thought of planting flowers, of touching something gentle, had given her a flicker of peace.

But of course, he wouldn’t allow that. He thought himself a god — untouchable, all-powerful. And she? Just another pawn in his twisted game.

She kept her eyes down, trying to focus on the food in front of her, but her thoughts were loud. The taste barely registered. Her body was hungry, but her mind was drowning.

Hades watched her closely, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. He saw it — the subtle shift in her expression. Disappointment. Pain. And then, anger. That last one made him smirk.

"You’re trying so hard not to speak," he said, leaning back in his chair. "I can see it all over your face. You hate this. You hate me."

She clenched her jaw, refusing to look at him.

"But you won’t say a word," he continued, voice low and taunting. "Because you know what happens when you do."

Her fingers tightened around the fork. She wanted to scream. To throw it. To run. But she did none of those things. She stayed silent, just like he wanted.

He chuckled softly. "That’s better. I like watching you squirm. It’s almost poetic — a girl who loves flowers, trapped in a house built on thorns."

She flinched. He had seen her looking at the garden. Of course he had.

"You want to plant things, don’t you?" he said, standing and walking toward her. "You want to make something grow in this place. That’s cute."

He leaned down, his voice a whisper against her ear. "But nothing grows here unless I say so."

She didn’t respond. Her face burned with fury, but she swallowed it whole. She knew better.

He straightened up and walked away, leaving her at the table with her rage, her silence, and the cold truth: she was a prisoner in paradise, and he was the devil who owned it.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The mansion was quiet.

Hades had left early that morning, summoned by whatever bloody business kept his empire alive. The air felt lighter without him — not safe, but less suffocating.

Nina wandered the halls aimlessly, her steps slow, her thoughts heavy. The maids moved silently around her, never meeting her eyes. She was invisible here. A ghost in silk.

Eventually, she found herself standing by the tall window again. The garden called to her — wild, overgrown, forgotten. A patch of green in a house built on cruelty.

She slipped outside.

The sun was warm on her skin, the breeze gentle. For the first time in days, she felt something close to calm. She knelt in the dirt, her fingers brushing aside dead leaves and tangled roots. She worked slowly, methodically — pruning, clearing, planting.

Each flower she placed in the soil was a quiet rebellion. A whisper of who she used to be. Who she still was, somewhere beneath the bruises and silence.

Hours passed. Her hands were dirty, her knees sore, but her heart beat steadier.

She didn’t hear Hades return.

But when she looked up and saw him watching her from the balcony, arms crossed, expression unreadable — her breath caught.

He didn’t speak. Just stared evily.

She lowered her gaze and already expecting a punishment.