Lucy sat on the bed, her thoughts swirling as she tried to process what had happened. Less than an hour ago, she'd been dragged away by armed men, men who had beaten her brother bloody right before her eyes. Now, she was stuck in this unfamiliar room, unsure of what came next.
She remembered the man from earlier, their boss, clearly, the one who had barked the order:
"Keep her here until I come. And don't touch her. Not one hair on her head." His voice had been cold, firm, and impossible to disobey.
That man... he wasn't like anyone Lucy had ever met. His presence had filled the entire warehouse like a storm cloud, dangerous, powerful, impossible to ignore. She didn’t know what he wanted from her, but the memory of his sharp eyes and the cruel smirk on his face made her stomach turn.
Now here she was, locked in a room with no answers. On the bed lay a set of black lace lingerie. It wasn’t hard to guess what they expected her to wear.
Lucy stood and checked the room, the closet, under the bed, even behind the curtains, hoping to find something else to wear. Nothing. Just the lingerie. Her own nightgown was grimy and torn from the rough handling earlier.
With no other choice, she grabbed the lace set and muttered bitterly, “Guess this is it.”
After a quick shower, she changed into the revealing outfit. The flimsy fabric clung to her skin, and the cold air of the room made her shiver. She hated this, feeling vulnerable, like she was being put on display.
The door burst open without warning. Lucy jumped to her feet.
It was him... the man from before. Barry Cooper. He stepped inside, still dressed in his expensive suit, and shut the door behind him. His eyes roamed over her, and she crossed her arms, hugging herself tightly.
“Beautiful,” Barry said, his voice low and rough. He took a step forward, and Lucy instinctively stepped back.
He paused, smiling faintly as if her fear amused him. “I believe we haven’t been properly introduced,” he said. “I’m Barry Cooper. And you… are Lucy.”
She didn’t answer.
“You know,” Barry went on, “your brother’s a real pain. Owes me a fair bit of money. Tried to steal from me too.” He shook his head, feigning disappointment. “That’s something I can’t ignore.”
Lucy’s heart pounded. “What does that have to do with me?”
Barry’s smile widened. “I hear you said you'd do anything to save him.”
She swallowed hard, her breath catching. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll keep it simple,” Barry said, stepping closer, too close now. His fingers reached out, brushing the lace strap on her shoulder. She flinched, and to her surprise, he pulled his hand back.
“You’re going to work for me,” he said flatly. “I own a club, a nice one, and you’ll dance there. Not just as a stripper,” he added with a grin. “You'll be a performer, one people will pay good money to see. You’ve got the skills, don’t you?”
Lucy bit her lip, forcing herself not to react.
“And when you’re not working,” Barry continued, “You’ll stay with me. As my woman. You’ll live under my roof, go where I say, and do what I tell you. That’s the deal.”
“You’re out of your mind,” Lucy said, her voice shaking.
“You want to keep your brother alive?” Barry countered, voice turning cold. “Then you’ll say yes. Because if you don’t…” He let the silence hang.
Lucy clenched her fists. She hated this man. Hated his smug face, his cruel smile. But she knew what would happen if she refused.
“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’ll do it.”
“Smart girl,” Barry said, his smile widening. “You’ll learn I always get what I want.”
Lucy had no choice. The situation was clear, Carrick had messed with the wrong man, and now she was the only thing standing between him and certain death.
She hated him for it. Hated that, despite every time he'd let her down, despite all the selfish choices he'd made, she still felt obligated to save him.
“I… I want my brother safe,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I want him to leave here alive and untouched. And I want your men to stay away from him, forever.”
Barry leaned back in his chair, watching her with a slow, knowing smile. “In exchange, you’ll accept my terms.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.
Lucy forced herself to nod.
“Consider it done,” he said smoothly.
Her shoulders sagged in relief, until she felt his fingers against her arm. The touch was warm, possessive, as he ran them up to her shoulder, pausing just at the curve of her neck. His gaze never wavered, trapping her under its weight.
Then, as suddenly as he touched her, he pulled away and walked out of the room.
Lucy didn’t move for a long moment. Then her knees weakened, and she sank onto the bed, pressing her hand to where his fingers had been. Even in his absence, she could still feel him there.
TWO DAYS LATER
Carrick was leaving. Finally.
From the small balcony attached to her room, Lucy stood watching as Barry’s men escorted him toward a waiting taxi. She bit her lip, gripping the railing. Two days locked in this place, and she still didn’t fully understand the kind of power Barry Cooper wielded. But she knew one thing, he wasn’t just some criminal. He was a leader, a man whose very presence demanded obedience.
Her eyes locked onto the car door as Carrick stepped out. He looked exhausted, his face bruised, his movements sluggish. But he was alive.
Relief washed over her, until she saw it.
A stark white bandage wrapped around his hand. His left hand.
Something inside her twisted sharply. She couldn’t see how much was missing, but she knew. A piece of him was gone.
Her stomach lurched.
She turned to Barry, who stood beside her, watching the scene with detached amusement. He hadn’t even looked at her yet, and that made her even angrier.
“What did you do to him?” she asked, voice low but shaking.
Barry finally glanced her way, lips curling. “Hmm?”
She clenched her fists. “What did you do?”
His smirk widened. “Oh, come on now. I only took a finger. Maybe two.” He shrugged lazily. “It’s just his left hand. Not like he was using it much anyway.”
Her blood boiled.
“He’s missing a finger” she shouted, stepping toward him. “You lied to me!”
Barry chuckled, shaking his head as if she were being ridiculous. “Don’t call me a liar, darling. I keep my deals.” He adjusted his cuff, revealing a flash of gold at his wrist. “I promised to let him live and to set him free. And look, he’s still breathing.” His voice dropped into something almost playful. “If I wanted, I could’ve taken a whole lot more. You wouldn’t believe how much a man can lose before he actually dies.”
Lucy’s stomach turned.
Rage took over. She stormed toward him, heels clicking furiously against the tiled floor. “You bastard"
She barely got the word out before her wrist was caught in a crushing grip. Before she could react, Barry yanked her forward, spinning her and slamming her back against the wall.
The impact knocked the breath from her lungs.
She gasped, but before she could struggle, his hand was on her throat, not choking, but holding, controlling.
“You,” she managed, voice hoarse.
Barry didn’t even look angry. He was calm, composed, his voice light as he murmured, “I don’t appreciate temper tantrums, Lucy. I try to be patient. I try to be nice.” He smirked down at her. “But you seem determined to test my limits.”
She clawed at his wrist, her breath coming in short, frantic bursts.
“L-Let me go...”
His grip tightened for a second. Just enough to make her panic. Then, just as suddenly, he released her.
Lucy stumbled, barely catching herself against the wall, gasping for air.
Barry watched her with an unreadable expression before he reached out again. This time, his fingers brushed under her chin, tilting her face up so she was forced to look at him.
“You need to learn obedience, darling,” he murmured. “And I’m happy to teach you.”
She swallowed hard, refusing to speak.
He let her go, stepping back with an amused chuckle. “For now, I’ll let this bad attitude slide. But next time…” His smile was sharp, dangerous. “Let’s not make it a habit, hmm?”
Then he turned and strode out, shutting the door behind him with a decisive slam.
Lucy stood frozen, her heart pounding.
What the hell had she just gotten herself into?
Barry closed the door behind him, but for a long moment, he didn’t move.He stood in the dim hallway, his hand still resting on the doorknob, staring at the floor. The soft hum of the night filled the silence, the faint ticking of the clock down the corridor, the wind brushing past the windows, the distant sound of a door creaking somewhere below.He shouldn’t have gone in there.He shouldn’t have touched her.And yet, he could still feel it, the soft warmth of her skin beneath his hand, the tiny tremor that ran through her when he’d pressed the cotton against her bruise. The look in her eyes… uncertain, but trusting. It had shaken something loose inside him that he didn’t know how to put back together.He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand over his face.He’d been through far worse things in his life, bullets, betrayals, loss, but one woman with soft eyes and quiet words was somehow testing his limits more than any of that ever had.Barry turned and began to walk, his boots soundless
By the time they reached Barry’s mansion, the sun was already sliding low behind the trees. The car rolled through the gates, the guards at the entrance snapping to attention. Lucy sat in the back seat beside Julia, her head resting against the window. Every muscle in her body ached.Julia yawned, stretching her arms lazily. “You did better today, Lucy. He didn’t yell at you as much.”Lucy smiled faintly. “That’s one way to measure progress.”Julia laughed. “Hey, for Barry, that’s a compliment.”As the car stopped in front of the wide steps, Lucy rubbed her wrist absently. A dull ache throbbed beneath her skin. When she rolled up her sleeve, she saw the faint purple mark blooming across the side of her arm, right where Barry had caught her.Julia’s eyes caught it instantly. “Ouch. That looks nasty.”“It’s fine,” Lucy muttered, tugging the sleeve back down. “I probably just bruised it during training.”“Or maybe when a certain someone decided to grab you like an action hero,” Julia tea
The training ground stretched wide before them. Julia stepped forward first, stretching her arms and rolling her shoulders. “Alright,” she said, glancing back at Lucy with a grin. “Try not to fall on your face this time.”Lucy let out a breath that was half laugh, half sigh. “Thanks for the confidence.”Julia smirked. “I mean it in a loving way.”Barry’s voice cut across the space, deep and steady. “Enough talking. Let’s begin.”Lucy swallowed hard. His tone carried no emotion, but when her eyes flicked toward him, he was watching her. Just her.“Start with footwork,” he ordered. “If you can’t keep your balance, you’ll be useless in a fight.”Julia nodded and dropped into a stance, moving with confidence. Lucy tried to copy her, her boots scraping against the dirt. Her body still ached from the last session, but she pushed through it, reminding herself not to give in.Left step, right step, pivot, she stumbled slightly.Julia chuckled. “Easy there. You’re not dancing.”Lucy shot her a
NEXT MORNING The first rays of sunlight slipped through the curtains, brushing against Lucy’s face. She stirred, her lashes fluttering as the warmth touched her skin. For a moment, she lay still, her chest rising and falling slowly. But then the memory of the night returned, Barry sitting at her bedside, his touch on her hand, the way his eyes had dipped to her lips.Her cheeks warmed instantly. She pressed a palm over her chest, feeling the steady thrum of her heart. So close… we were so close.Pushing the thought aside, Lucy threw the blanket off and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The floor was cool against her bare feet. She grabbed a towel and slipped into the adjoining bath.The warm water helped wash away the remnants of her restless night. She leaned her head against the tiled wall for a moment, letting the spray beat against her back. But Barry’s voice lingered in her head, sharp at first, then soft... “Lies don’t suit you, Lucy.”By the time she stepped out, she fe
NIGHTThe mansion was quiet, the kind of silence that stretched heavy through the halls. Outside, the wind brushed against the windows, carrying a faint rustle of trees. Everyone was asleep, or so it seemed.Lucy wasn’t.Her body twisted restlessly under the blanket, her breath coming in uneven gasps. The images replayed behind her closed eyes, dark streets, headlights flashing in the rearview mirror, the sudden gunfire splitting the air. Barry pulling her close, shielding her, his arm pressing her down as the world felt like it would break apart.“Stop…” she whimpered in her sleep, her hands clutching the sheets. Another burst of memory made her jerk, a sharp cry breaking past her lips.A maid, who had been walking quietly down the hall with folded linens, froze at the sound. Her eyes widened. The cry had come from Lucy’s room. The maid hesitated for a breath, biting her lip. She didn’t dare enter, the Don’s rules about disturbing Lucy were strict. But she couldn’t ignore it either.
Lucy woke up late the next morning, her body heavy from a night of tossing and turning. The memory of Barry’s touch in the study still lingered in her chest, as if his fingers had branded her skin. She rubbed her face with both hands and forced herself out of bed. The house was already alive with noise, maids moving about, footsteps echoing faintly down the halls.She showered, changed into a plain black sweater and jeans, and tied her hair up in a loose ponytail. She had just sat on her bed to put on her sneakers when a knock came at her door.Lucy frowned. “Yes?”The door opened and Julia stepped in, her lips quirking into a grin. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead. You’ve been summoned.”Lucy blinked. “Summoned?”Julia leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “The Don wants you downstairs. We’re heading out with him.”Lucy’s heart skipped. “Again?”“Yes, again.” Julia rolled her eyes, but her smile softened. “Don’t look so nervous. It’s not your first time, remember? Just… come on. Do