Chapter 12: Abducted in plain sight

I stayed on the dresser for a long time after he left, my skin still tingling, my sore clit throbbing from the intensity.

Finally, I swung my legs down and stumbled toward the bed. Falling asleep.

The next morning, I woke up to the sun cutting through the curtains. I stepped out of the room to go get a drink. The house was too quiet. No staff seemed to be around. I leaned against the marble countertop, a glass of water shaking in my hand.

Brayden sat on the couch, shirt unbuttoned, hair still mussed from sleep.

Before she could speak, the doorbell rang. Twice. Then a deep, impatient voice called out from the driveway.

“Who is that?” Zoe muttered,.

Brayden didn’t move. “Stay here.”

Moments later, the front door burst open. Alessia’s father, The Mafialord, stormed inside. “Brayden Gatsby” he said. “We need to talk. Now.”

Zoe felt her stomach twist. She stayed silent, watching him move closer, the air thick with tension.

Brayden rose slowly. “Don Romano. You didn’t tell me you’d be stopping by. How rude.”

“I don’t care about courtesy,” Alessia’s father spat. “You either marry my daughter, or I pull Romano Mafia from the board. You think your little empire can survive without us?”

Brayden’s jaw flexed. “I’m married.”

“I don’t give a damn. If it weren’t for the relationship I had with your father I’d have had my men take you out a long time ago.” His words were sharp.

“I will do no such thing,” Brayden said, calm and deadly. “Your daughter is a whore who slept with my brother. She should go marry him. I have a wife. End of discussion.”

I held my breath, watching the air crack with tension. Don’s eyes narrowed, dangerous. “You’re going to regret this. Twenty-four hours. Marry her or watch everything you’ve built collapse.”

He turned and stormed out of the mansion, but almost immediately Brayden’s mother appeared.

“Brayden,” she said. “I’ve heard everything. The board, Don Romano, this has gone too far. Set a date. Alessia will be your second wife. No arguments.”

Brayden turned slowly. “Mother, I am not marrying her. Not now, not ever. My wife is Zoe. That’s final.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You’ll bring shame to the family if you refuse. You know the consequences.”

Brayden’s mother turned and left in anger after sending a wicked look my way.

Brayden leaned back against the couch, unbothered. His eyes found me where I stood frozen near the counter.

“Back to your room,” he ordered, like he was dismissing a servant. “Stay there until I send for you.”

Heat crawled up my neck, but I didn’t argue. I just turned and went. Because fighting him never ended well.

Once the bedroom door shut, I grabbed the new phone he’d shoved into my hands two days ago. My fingers shook as I scrolled through the social media. One name jumped out. Clara. My best friend. My only friend who still thought my life was normal.

I hit call.

It rang once, twice. Then her bright voice filled the speaker. “She picked up fast. “Zoe? Holy shit, it’s been weeks! Where have you been?”

“I can’t explain everything right now,” I said quickly. “But listen, my stepdad sold me out. For his debts. And now I’m married to the man who bought me.”

There was silence. “What do you mean ‘sold you out’? Zoe, what the hell is going on?”

“I can’t say much. Just know I’m not safe. If something happens to me, remember this call.”

“Zoe, don’t hang up..”

Before she could ask more, I hung up. My chest felt lighter and heavier all at once.

Hours passed before Brayden finally came. He didn’t knock. he never did. He walked straight to me with the collar in his hand.

“No,” I whispered. “Please Not today.”

He arched a brow. “Not your choice.”

I stepped back. “Brayden, please. I don’t need that thing on me every time we leave the house. I’m not a dog.”

His eyes narrowed. “You think you get a say in this?” He stepped in close, pressing the leather against my neck. “Your place, Zoe. You know it. You’re my bitch and you better know it.”

I clenched my jaw but didn’t fight. The collar clicked into place, and he gave the buckle a tug like he was testing a leash.

“Good,” he said, already turning for the door. “Let’s go.”

The drive into town was silent. I kept my eyes on the window, hating the weight around my throat.

At the boutique, he walked me inside, hand on my back like I was property. His work phone rang the second we got through the door. He cursed under his breath and stepped off to answer it.

I wandered to a rack of dresses, trying to look busy. That’s when I felt it, a shadow behind me.

A hand clamped around my arm.

“Don’t make a sound,” a man muttered in my ear.

I froze. Another guy moved in fast, blocking me from the rest of the store.

I twisted, about to yell, but a rough hand slammed over my mouth.

Brayden’s back was still turned, phone pressed to his ear. He didn’t see me.

“Easy,” one of them said, dragging me toward the side exit. His voice was low, confident. “The Don sends his regards.”

The men dragged me through a side door into the alley. The sun hit my face. A black van waited with the back door open.

I thrashed harder. Kicking and fighting but the men were stronger. One of them hissed, “Don’t make this worse Bitch.” Then something sharp pricked my neck. My body went weak fast. My vision blurred and then everything went dark.