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CHAPTER FOUR

Author: Miss Robb
last update publish date: 2026-09-15 05:35:58

**SERA**

I woke up to my phone ringing at seven AM, three hours after I'd finally fallen asleep. The number was unknown.

My heart stopped. Gianna.

"Hello?"

"Your sister is at Chicago Mercy Hospital. Emergency room. She's alive."

The line went dead.

I was out of bed and dressed in under two minutes, grabbing my keys with shaking hands. Isabella was still asleep. I didn't wake her. Just ran.

The hospital was twenty minutes away. I made it in twelve.

I pushed through to the reception desk where a tired-looking nurse barely glanced up.

"Gianna Moretti. She was just brought in. Where is she?"

The nurse typed slowly. "Are you family?"

"I'm her sister. Her only family. Please."

She nodded and pointed down a hallway. "Room 17. The police are with her."

Police. My stomach dropped. The kidnappers had said no police.

I ran down the hallway and burst through the door.

Gianna sat on a hospital bed, wrapped in a blanket, looking small and broken. A female officer stood beside her, notebook in hand.

"Gi!" I rushed to her, pulling her into my arms. She felt fragile, like she might shatter. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

She was crying. We both were. She clung to me like a drowning person.

"I'm okay," she whispered. "I'm okay now."

The officer cleared her throat. "I'm Detective Rodriguez. Are you Sarah Moretti?"

I pulled back from Gianna but kept holding her hand. "Yes. What happened?"

"Your sister was dropped off at the hospital entrance an hour ago. She told us she was kidnapped three days ago and held for ransom." Rodriguez's eyes were sharp. "She says you paid for it."

"I did."

"Two hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money for a college student."

"I found a way."

"What way?"

"Does it matter? She's safe. That's what matters."

Rodriguez stepped closer. "It matters because human trafficking is my specialty, Ms. Moretti. It matters because the people who took your sister are part of a larger operation. It matters because you might have just funded their next kidnapping."

The words hit like a slap. I hadn't thought about that.

"I didn't know what else to do," I said quietly.

"You could have called us."

"They said they'd kill her if I did."

Rodriguez's expression softened slightly. "They always say that. But we have protocols, resources, and negotiators."

"I couldn't risk it."

She studied me for a long moment. "Where did you get the money, Sarah?"

I looked at Gianna. At her bruised wrists. At the haunted look in her eyes.

"I took out a loan," I lied.

"From who?"

"A private lender. I'd rather not say."

Rodriguez didn't believe me. I could see it in her face.

"If you remember anything about where you were held, who took you, any details at all," Rodriguez said to Gianna, "you call me immediately." She handed me a card. "Both of you. This isn't over just because she's back."

She left, and I was alone with my sister.

Gianna's hands were shaking. "They came to the study abroad program. Three men. Grabbed me off the street in broad daylight." Her voice was hollow. "They kept me in a warehouse. It was dark most of the time. There were other girls there too, Sera. Younger than me. They were taking them somewhere else, selling them."

Rage burned through me. Hot and violent and useless.

"Did they…." I couldn't finish the question.

"No. They said I was worth more untouched." She laughed bitterly. "Like I was a product."

I held her tighter. "You're home now. You're safe."

"Am I?" She pulled back to look at me. "How did you get that money, Sera? Don't lie to me."

I couldn't tell her. Couldn't explain that I'd stripped naked for a stranger. That I'd signed a contract selling myself for a year.

"I found a way," I repeated. "That's all that matters."

"It matters to me. What did you do?"

"I took a job!" The words came out sharper than I intended. "A private job that pays well. It's not illegal. It's not dangerous. It's just... private."

She stared at me. "What kind of job?"

"The kind where I make enough money to take care of both of us and finish school and make sure you never have to worry about anything ever again."

A nurse came in to check Gianna's vitals, giving me time to breathe.

My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.

“Ten PM tonight. Don't be late. - LV”

Luca Vitale. My new owner.

I deleted the message and focused on Gianna. The nurse was asking about pain, injuries, and what she needed.

"We'd like to keep her overnight for observation," the nurse said to me.

I nodded. "Whatever she needs."

The nurse left. Gianna lay back against the pillows, exhausted.

"I kept thinking you'd come for me," she said quietly. "Every time I heard footsteps, I thought it would be you."

Guilt twisted in my chest. "I tried. I did everything I could."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm just…." Her voice broke. "I was so scared, Sera."

"I know, baby. I know."

She fell asleep holding my hand. I sat there watching her breathe, watching the bruises darken on her skin, and felt something cold settle in my chest.

Detective Rodriguez was right. This wasn't over. The people who took Gianna were still out there. Still taking girls.

And I'd just paid them two hundred thousand dollars to keep doing it.

My phone buzzed again. Isabella this time.

"Where are you? Are you okay?" 

I texted back quickly. Hospital. Gianna's back. She's safe." 

“OMG I'm coming”

“No. Stay there. I'll explain later." 

I set my phone down and looked at the clock. 9:47 AM. I had twelve hours before I needed to be at Club Nero.

The thought made my stomach turn. Last night had been adrenaline and desperation. Tonight would be different. Tonight I'd know exactly what I was doing.

Gianna stirred in her sleep, whimpering. Nightmares probably. I squeezed her hand and she settled.

This was why. This was what the year of humiliation was for. So Gianna could sleep safely. So she could heal and go back to school and have a life.

I could survive anything for that.

The door opened. Detective Rodriguez again.

"I ran your name through our system," she said without preamble. "Your father was James Moretti. Chicago PD. Died five years ago."

I stiffened. "So?"

"So I knew him. Worked with him briefly before he retired on medical." She moved closer, her voice dropping. "He was a good cop, Sarah. One of the best. And he taught me that sometimes the most dangerous criminals are the ones who look legitimate."

"I don't understand what this has to do with…."

"Your private lender. The one you won't name. Be very careful who you owe money to in this city. Some debts can't be paid off with cash."

She left before I could respond.

I sat there, her words echoing in my head. Some debts can't be paid off with cash.

Too late. I'd already signed the contract. Already taken the money. Already belonged to Luca Vitale for the next year.

My father's face flashed in my mind. The way he'd looked at me the week before he died.

"Be smart, Sera," he'd whispered. "Don't trust anyone who offers easy solutions. There's always a price."

I'd been seventeen then. Naive.

Now I was twenty-two, sitting in a hospital room with my traumatized sister, committed to stripping for a man who looked at me like I was something to own.

I spent the day at the hospital, watching Gianna sleep and wake and sleep again. Isabella came despite my protest, bringing clothes and food and questions I wouldn't answer.

At nine PM, I kissed Gianna's forehead and promised I'd be back in the morning.

"Where are you going?" she asked sleepily.

"Work. I'll be back before you wake up."

"Sera…."

"Sleep, Gi. You're safe now."

I left before she could ask more questions.

The drive to Club Nero felt different than last night. Last night I'd been running toward salvation. Tonight I was walking into a cage I'd locked myself in.

At exactly ten PM, I walked through the back entrance.

Luca Vitale was waiting in the audition room, sitting in that same chair, wearing a different expensive suit.

He smiled when he saw me.

"Right on time, Scarlett. I appreciate punctuality."

I closed the door behind me and heard the lock click.

Three hundred sixty-four days to go.

"Strip," he said. "And this time, I want you to enjoy it.”

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