Chapter Two

Rose Alexandria Sinclair

Pain dragged me awake slowly.

A sharp ache pulsed through my skull, throbbing behind my eyes with every heartbeat. My mouth tasted like blood and metal.

For a moment, I couldn’t remember where I was.

Then I tried to move.

Cold panic flooded me instantly.

My wrists were tied behind a chair.

The ropes dug painfully into my skin as I jerked against them, breathing harder. The room around me was dark, lit only by a weak golden light hanging above me.

Concrete walls.

Cold floor.

The faint smell of cigarettes and gunpowder lingering in the air.

Fear crept slowly into my chest.

“Awake already?”

The voice came from somewhere in front of me.

Low.

Male.

Dangerous.

I froze.

A figure moved through the shadows slowly.

Tall.

Broad shoulders dressed in black.

At first, I only noticed the cigarette glowing between his fingers.

Then the expensive watch.

The tattoos disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt.

My breathing slowed.

No.

No, it couldn’t be.

The man stepped fully into the light.

And my entire world stopped.

I knew those eyes.

God.

I knew them.

Even after eight years, I recognized the sharp line of his jaw, the scar above his brow, the dark hair pushed neatly away from his face.

But this wasn’t the Frederico I remembered.

The boy I loved used to smile easily.

This man looked carved from violence.

Cold.

Beautiful.

Terrifying.

My throat tightened painfully.

“...Frederico?”

His expression changed the second his name left my lips.

Not warmth.

Not affection.

Something darker.

Then he smiled.

Slowly.

Cruelly.

“Well,” he murmured softly. “Look who remembers me.”

Fear crawled up my spine.

He walked toward me calmly, like a predator with no reason to rush.

I couldn’t stop staring at him.

Eight years.

Eight years since I left him behind.

Eight years since I watched him disappear from my life.

And somehow… he had become this.

A monster wearing the face of the boy I once loved.

“You look disappointed,” he said quietly.

I swallowed hard. “What happened to you?”

A low laugh escaped him.

“You.”

Before I could react—

CRACK.

My head snapped sideways from the slap.

Pain exploded across my cheek.

I gasped sharply.

Frederico grabbed my jaw roughly, forcing me to look at him.

“Don’t stare at me like you’re innocent, Rose.”

The rage in his eyes terrified me.

But somehow, what terrified me more was the pain hiding underneath it.

“You disappeared,” he said quietly. “Without a goodbye. Without a damn explanation.”

I struggled against his grip. “Frederico, I—”

“Eight years.” His voice hardened. “Do you know what that does to someone?”

I stared at him silently.

Because I honestly didn’t know.

This version of Frederico was a stranger.

The old Frederico used to kiss my forehead and promise me forever.

This one looked at me like he wanted revenge for breathing.

Finally, he released my face roughly and stepped back.

I inhaled shakily.

“What do you want from me?”

He sat down lazily across from me, crossing one leg over the other.

“Your father owes me money.”

My stomach dropped instantly.

“So this is about debt?” I whispered.

“It started that way.”

The answer made my skin crawl.

“How much?”

“More than your father can pay.”

“That’s not my responsibility.”

Frederico smiled faintly.

“It became your responsibility the second I decided it was.”

Anger flickered through my fear.

“You kidnapped me because of my father’s mistakes?”

“No.” His gaze locked onto mine. “I kidnapped you because I wanted to.”

Silence crashed heavily between us.

My pulse quickened.

This wasn’t normal anger.

This wasn’t business.

Something about him felt obsessive.

Unstable.

His eyes moved slowly over my face, almost like he was memorizing it.

“I used to think about this moment,” he admitted softly.

I hated how calm he sounded.

“How many times I’d see you again.”

My chest tightened painfully.

“Frederico—”

“Sometimes I imagined killing you.”

My breath caught.

“Other times…” He leaned forward slightly, voice dropping lower. “I imagined dragging you back to me exactly like this.”

Fear slid beneath my skin.

“You’re insane.”

A smile touched his lips.

“Maybe.”

I jerked harder against the ropes. “Let me go.”

“No.”

“Please.”

His expression darkened instantly.

“Do not beg me unless you mean it.”

The room fell silent again.

Then suddenly, a man walked into the room.

“Boss.”

Frederico didn’t look away from me. “What?”

“The father’s awake.”

My stomach twisted violently.

“Pa?” I whispered.

Frederico finally stood.

Slowly.

Casually.

Like my fear entertained him.

“You really still care about that man after he offered to sell you?” he asked.

Shame and anger hit me immediately.

“That’s none of your business.”

A dangerous look crossed his face.

“Everything about you is my business now.”

The words sent chills through me.

Frederico reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

Then he tossed it onto my lap.

A video was playing.

I looked down—

And my blood ran cold.

My father was tied to a chair somewhere dark, bruised and bleeding heavily.

“Rose…” he choked weakly through the screen.

“Pa!” Panic exploded inside me. “What did you do to him?!”

Frederico watched my reaction carefully.

Almost hungrily.

“He still owes me.”

“Please,” I whispered desperately. “Please don’t hurt him anymore.”

“Why not?” Frederico asked calmly. “He ruined your life.”

I looked up at him helplessly.

“He’s still my father.”

For the first time, something unreadable crossed Frederico’s face.

Then it disappeared.

He crouched in front of me slowly.

“You know what your problem is, Rose?”

His fingers brushed lightly against my cheek.

“You still love people who destroy you.”

I flinched away from his touch.

“Don’t touch me.”

His jaw tightened.

“You used to like it when I touched you.”

“That was before.”

A dangerous silence filled the room.

Then he smiled again.

Cold.

Beautiful.

Cruel.

“That’s alright,” he murmured softly.

“You’ll remember.”

My stomach twisted.

The way he said it terrified me.

Not angry.

Certain.

Like he truly believed he could drag the past back to life with his bare hands.

Frederico stood slowly, adjusting the sleeve of his black shirt before walking toward a nearby table.

I watched him carefully now.

Everything about him had changed.

The expensive clothes.

The tattoos.

The coldness in his eyes.

But somehow, certain things were still painfully familiar.

The way he rolled his sleeves when irritated.

The slight limp in his right leg from the motorcycle accident when we were seventeen.

The silver chain resting against his throat.

My chest tightened unexpectedly.

God.

How could he still feel familiar after becoming someone this terrifying?

“You’re shaking,” he observed without looking at me.

“I’m cold.”

“No.” His gaze finally lifted toward me again. “You’re scared.”

I looked away silently.

Because denying it would be pointless.

Frederico moved closer again until he stood directly in front of me.

Too close.

The scent of smoke and expensive cologne wrapped around me instantly.

My pulse stumbled traitorously.

“I used to wonder if you ever thought about me,” he said quietly.

I swallowed hard.

“Frederico—”

“Did you?”

The question caught me off guard.

His voice sounded different suddenly.

Not cruel.

Not mocking.

Worse.

Honest.

I looked at him carefully.

And for one dangerous second, I saw him.

Not the monster.

Not the mafia boss.

Just the boy who used to wait outside my classes with bruised knuckles and stupid flowers he couldn’t afford.

My chest ached violently.

“Yes,” I admitted quietly.

Something flickered across his face instantly.

But it vanished just as fast.

“You shouldn’t have.”

Confusion tightened in my chest. “What?”

His jaw clenched.

“Thinking about me should’ve hurt.”

The hatred in his voice startled me.

“I buried people because of you, Rose.”

Fear slid down my spine.

“I did things…” He laughed quietly to himself, but there was no humor in it. “Terrible things.”

The room suddenly felt smaller.

“I searched for you.”

My breath caught.

“For two years.”

I stared at him.

“You—”

“You vanished.” His eyes darkened. “Like I meant nothing.”

“That’s not true.”

“Then why did you leave?”

The question hit harder this time.

Because underneath the rage—

There it was.

The real wound.

I looked away.

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“Bullshit.”

His voice cracked through the room sharply.

I flinched.

Frederico grabbed the chair suddenly, forcing my attention back to him.

“You left me when I had nothing,” he hissed. “Do you know what that does to a man?”

Anger finally broke through my fear.

“You think you’re the only one who suffered?” I shot back. “My mother was dying! We were drowning in debt! I was barely surviving!”

“And yet you still left.”

The room fell silent.

Heavy breathing filled the space between us.

Then suddenly—

Frederico laughed softly.

The sound sent chills down my spine.

“You know the funniest part?”

He leaned down slowly until his face hovered inches from mine.

“I still would’ve forgiven you.”

My heart stopped.

“But now?” His fingers brushed my jaw possessively. “Now I want you ruined the same way you ruined me.”

Fear and something dangerously close to heartbreak twisted together inside my chest.

Because the worst part was—

I believed him.