Chapter 5 Shadows of Captivity

The heavy mahogany doors clicked shut, the sound echoing like a prison cell sealing shut behind the two maidservants.

I was left alone.

The master suite was vast, opulent, and suffocating. A massive king-sized bed dominated the room, draped in dark charcoal silk and surrounded by floor-to-ceiling glass windows that looked out over an endless, pitch-black pine forest.

The maids had done their job with clinical precision. They had treated my bruised skin with stinging antiseptics, washed the blood and grime from my hair, and dressed me in an emerald-green silk nightgown that fell softly over my collarbones.

I didn't care about the silk. I didn't care about the luxury.

I dragged myself to the farthest corner of the massive mattress, pulling my bare knees tightly against my chest. I buried my face into my arms, letting out a ragged, choked sob as the silence finally broke.

My entire life had been completely torn to shreds in less than forty-eight hours.

Mom. Dad.

The memory of the abduction clawed its way back into my mind, violent and unyielding.

Last night, my tiny second-floor bedroom had been filled with the comforting, rhythmic sound of rain pattering against the glass.

I had been asleep, exhausted from the horrific bloodshed I had witnessed in the alley behind The Obsidian Lounge. I thought I had managed to escape. I thought the nightmare was over.

Then the wooden front door downstairs exploded off its hinges with a deafening crash.

Heavy combat boots stomped up the stairs. Before I could even reach for my bedside lamp, my bedroom door was kicked open. Three masked men in tactical gear surged into the room, their weapons drawn.

"Grab the girl!" a harsh voice barked.

"Get off me!" I screamed, kicking wildly and throwing my heavy glass lamp straight at the nearest man. It shattered against his shoulder, but he didn't stop.

From the hallway, my father rushed in, holding a heavy iron wrench from his toolbox. "Leave my daughter alone! Get out of my house!"

"Dad, no!"

One of the intruders pivoted without hesitation, driving the butt of a heavy rifle straight into my father's chest. My dad collapsed with a sickening thud, gasping for breath. My mother ran in, screaming in horror, throwing herself over him as the men pointed guns directly at their heads.

"Dad! Mom!" I fought like a cornered animal, biting the gloved forearm of the man pinning my arms, thrashing with every ounce of adrenaline in my body. "Don't touch them! Take me, you cowards, leave them alone!"

A sharp blow to the side of my head made the room spin. They dragged me down the stairs, tossing me into the back of an unmarked van into absolute darkness.

When the black hood was finally ripped off my head hours later, I found myself kneeling on the cold floor of an abandoned warehouse, surrounded by heavily armed guards.

Standing in front of me was a middle-aged man with cold, calculating gray eyes and silver-streaked hair, wearing an expensive tailored coat.

Victor Romano.

He stepped forward, his eyes burning with venomous fury. Without warning, his gloved fingers clamped down onto my jaw with bruising force, jerking my chin upward until my neck strained.

"Look at me, you pathetic little rat," Victor hissed, his voice trembling with barely restrained rage. "Take a good look at the man whose life you destroyed."

Pain shot through my jaw, but I refused to cower. I swallowed the copper taste of my own blood and glared straight into his eyes. "I didn't destroy anything. Your son cornered me. He tried to assault me."

Victor's grip tightened painfully, digging into my bruised bone. "My son is dead because of you! Luca was the heir to the Romano empire, and his blood is on your hands!"

"Your son died because he was a monster!" I spat out, holding his venomous gaze despite the throbbing ache in my skull. "And you raised him to be one! Go ahead and kill me, Victor. Do it! Because if you don't, I will make sure everyone knows what a coward you are!"

A dark, twisted smile spread across Victor’s face. Slowly, he released my jaw, wiping his leather glove with a handkerchief.

"Kill you?" Victor let out a raspy, bitter laugh. "Death is mercy, little girl. Death is quick. You cost me my legacy. A bullet through your head is far too gentle."

He turned his back on me, gesturing to the men standing behind him.

"Take her to Silas Kane," Victor ordered coldly. "Strip her of her name. Chain her. Put her on the auction block. I want her sold to the filthiest underground buyer money can find. I want her to wake up every single morning wishing she were dead."

A fresh wave of tears slipped down my cheeks as the memory faded, leaving me alone in the dark bedroom of the Blackthorn Estate.

Victor had wanted me destroyed. He had wanted me broken by animals in the dark.

Instead, Zayden Blackthorn had stepped out of the shadows and paid ten million dollars to own me himself.

I wiped the tears from my eyes, pressing my palms against the cold mattress. Zayden wasn't a savior. He was a tyrant who ruled with an iron fist, a man who claimed he owned everything in this city.

“You won't run again,” his deep voice echoed in my head.

I looked toward the heavy wooden door, my jaw clenching as a cold, stubborn fire reignited in my chest.

He had the money. He had the guards. He had the power.

But he will never own me.