Chapter 2 Strip!

Chapter Two

Micah's POV

“No. You just saved your life.”

The fuck does he mean?

I blinked hard, still sprawled flat on the cold marble floor, aching in places I didn’t know could ache. My stomach throbbed where that asshole had punched me. My skull pulsed with the memory of the blow that knocked me out.

But Elio Romano? He looked like he’d just gotten back from a gala.

I swallowed. My mouth was dry. “So… that’s it? I get to live?”

Elio stood and walked to his bar, pouring himself another drink. The soft clink of ice against the crystal glass echoed…

“That depends,” he said, turning back to me. “Living and breathing aren't the same thing.”

He took a slow sip from his drink. “You sold the location of my blood. My niece was on that ship. If I hadn't intercepted it, she would’ve been taken. Tortured. Maybe worse.”

My stomach twisted. Had I doomed a kid just to pay Mom’s bills?

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out.

“You didn’t know,” he repeated, walking toward me like a panther. “That’s the only reason you're not already in pieces.”

He crouched in front of me again, perfectly composed. His oud and sandalwood scent hit me harder this time. God.

“But ignorance doesn't mean innocence,” he said, voice low, almost intimate. “But raw talent is too valuable to simply discard. You will repay your debt, Micah. One way or another.”

I swallowed. “You’re going to kill me anyway. So why not do it now instead?

“If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be in pieces.”

I flinched, the cuffs biting into my wrists. “Then why—why the hell am I here?”

His blue eyes locked on mine.

“Because,” he said simply, “I want to see what I can make out of you.”

I stared at him. “I’m not some project.”

He smirked faintly. “You’re whatever I say you are.”

The man was unreal. His gaze dipped to my mouth in just a fickle second. But I caught it.

Was he…? No. No way.

Before I could say anything, he rose and snapped his fingers once. Two guards I didn't notice before appeared from the shadows.

“Untie him," he said, not even looking at me.

One of the guards obeyed, crouching beside me and opening the cuffs at my wrists and ankles. My skin burned from the friction. I didn’t move. Not until Elio spoke again.

"Stand up."

My body didn’t want to. My head throbbed and my legs felt like rubber, but I pushed myself upright, if only because disobeying him didn’t seem like a survivable option.

He finally turned to face me fully. And fuck, there was something in his eyes that made my knees threaten to fold.

“Strip.”

I blinked. “What?”

His voice didn’t change. “I’m sure you heard me.”

I stared at him like he was joking, but nothing about Elio Romano suggested he ever joked.

“You don't want to kill me, fine. Torture me, okay. But what the hell is this?”

“You have nothing left to bargain with, Micah. Your body, your mind, your skills—those are mine now. I don’t need your consent. But I’ll give you the illusion of choice. Strip, or I’ll have my men do it for you.”

I could barely breathe.

This was it. This was the price of staying alive. And I had no fucking idea what he was going to do with me.

I reached for the hem of my hoodie with shaking hands and pulled it over my head. Then my shirt came next.

His eyes didn’t blink. He watched every inch of skin I exposed like he was calculating.

I dropped the shirt to the floor, my chest heaving under his gaze, every nerve screaming as his eyes raked over me.

“Pants.” He commanded.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Because you need to learn what it means to belong to someone.”

Belong to—?

I bit down on my lip, my hands moving to the button of my jeans. My fingers shook, but I undid it, then slid them down. I stepped out of them, standing in just my briefs now. Exposed.

And God help me. My cock was stone hard. I hated it. Hated that some dark, buried part of me was... reacting to him. This wasn’t arousal. It was fear. It had to be.

Elio walked toward me again, slow and composed.

“You’re prettier than I expected.” His words sent a jolt through me, my

He reached out, running the back of his knuckles down my cheek. My skin lit up like I’d been scalded by hot oil. My instinct told me to step back, but something worse told me not to move at all. That stupid voice inside me, the one I never listened to, was curious.

“What are you going to do to me?” I whispered before I could stop myself.

He tilted his head slightly. “That depends on how well you behave.”

He turned to one of the guards in the room. Scars slashed across the guard’s face like someone had clawed him once and regretted not finishing the job.

“Take him to the guest suite,” he said, walking toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, his back to me again like I was nothing more than a temporary distraction.

One of the guards grabbed me roughly under the arm and yanked me up before I could finish. My legs were still shaky, and I stumbled.

They dragged me down a pristine hallway that smelled like lemon oil. I counted security cameras as I went—three in the hall, two in the elevator. Motion sensors by the vents. State-of-the-art lock system on every damn door.

Classy. There was no way out of here.

I was led to a massive bedroom—if you could call it that. It looked more like a hotel suite than anything else. A king-sized bed sat in the middle, draped in deep gray linen. The floor-to-ceiling windows showed off a city that didn’t even know I was gone.

“This is where you’ll stay,” one of the guards said, and turned to leave. The other one stayed behind, standing stiff by the door like some human surveillance camera.

I stood there for a beat, refusing to move. If I didn’t acknowledge it, maybe this place wouldn’t become real.

But it already was. Was I his prisoner….Or his possession?

I stumbled back until my knees hit the edge of the bed. My palms were slick. I should be calculating my next move like I’d been trained to.

But all I could think about was how his toned abs would feel under my fingers.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Thinking about his hands when I should be looking for exits?

I let out a shaky breath and sat down, only for the lights to dim—on their own.

The quiet hum of electricity filled the room as the monitor blinked awake. My name blinked across the screen in crimson red letters.

MICAH REED — STATUS: RECONDITIONING INITIATED.

My skin went cold. What the hell was this place?