Chapter Two: Awakened

ARIA

Pain and cold. That's the first thing I register. My head throbs like someone's taking a jackhammer to my skull. When I try to move my hands to check for damage, they don't budge.

My hands are tied behind my back, the rope digging into my skin. I test the bindings. They are too tight. Each movement sends fire through my shoulders.

Don't panic. Think.

I force my eyes open. The room swims into focus—concrete walls, no windows, a single bulb hanging overhead. Is this a house? Maybe a warehouse? My mouth feels so dry, and there's a metallic taste that makes me want to gag.

A door creaks open somewhere behind me. Footsteps echo—the sound of heavy boots on concrete. I keep my eyes closed, pretending unconsciousness while my heart hammers against my ribs.

The footsteps stop right in front of me . A boot nudges my side.

"I know you're awake." Male voice.

I open my eyes. The man looming over me wears a black mask, but I recognize his build. The one who grabbed me outside Bella's.

"Water," I croak. My throat feels like sandpaper. "Please give me water."

He laughs. "Cute. But I'm not your waiter."

I struggle to sit up, my bound hands making it nearly impossible. The room spins. Concussion, probably. Those three years of pre-med are good for something at least.

"Loosen the ropes please," I manage hating how my voice shakes. "They're cutting off circulation."

"Sweetheart, that's the least of your problems right. Now shut the hell up before I make you do."

""Why am I here? What do you want?"

"Ask your father." He leans in close, his breath hot against my ear. "Better yet, ask him about the money he stole."

What? Dad's an accountant, not a thief. He wouldn't—

He added. “You do better and keep your mouth shut. My boss is on his way, and he is not as lenient as I am.”

As if on cue, the door slams open. The masked man straightens so fast he nearly stumbles.

The new man is tall, broad-shouldered. Even without seeing his face clearly in the barely there light, I can tell he's furious.

"What the fuck is this?" He barked. I can’t tell who is even more scary between these two.

My kidnapper straightens. "Boss, I—"

"Shut up." The newcomer's gaze fixes on my bound wrists. "Who authorized this?"

He laughed nervously. "You said to bring her in—"

"I said bring her in, not torture her." He pulls out a knife, and my heart stops. That’s it,, he’s going to slit my throat. I start thinking of how many minutes it will take before I bleed to death on these cold concrete.

But instead of hurting me, he reached for my hands and slices through the ropes in one clean motion. "Get out."

The masked man practically runs.

Blood rushes back to my fingers, bringing pins and needles. I bite back a whimper. I should be terrified. I am terrified. But something else cuts through the fear—anger.

"Who the hell are you people?" The words burst out before I can stop them. "If this is about money, my dad—"

"Will you stop crying. Your father," he roared, "is a thief and a liar. But we'll get to that." He crouches down to my level, and his scent hits me—expensive cologne that momentarily intoxicated me. "Right now, you need to stop crying."

I hadn't even realized I was crying until he mentioned it. I swipe at my cheeks, ignoring how my hands shake. "Sorry if being kidnapped makes me emotional."

"Look at me."

I keep my eyes down.

“Speak up when I am talking to you,” he commanded

He closed the distance between us and his hand catches my chin, tilting my face up. And—oh.

He's beautiful in the way a storm is beautiful. Dark hair, darker eyes, features that belong on a Renaissance statue.

I managed to ask, “Who are you?”

He studied me for a moment, his eyes searching mine before releasing my chin and standing up, creating a safe distance between us. “That’s not important right now,”

"Are you hurt?" He then added after a beat of silence.

The gentleness in his voice surprises me. "Besides the kidnapping and probable concussion? I'm peachy."

His jaw tightens. "You're bleeding."

Am I? I touch my temple. My fingers come away red.

He mutters something that sounds like a curse and stands, pulling out his phone. "Get back here now Lucas.”

He ends the call.

“What’s happening with the girl?”Lucas asked appearing again.

“She’s my bargaining tool,” he replied nonchalantly, his tone devoid of remorse. “My money is in this room. She stays here until Silas pays up.”

"And if daddy dearest doesn't show?"

"He'll show."

"You sure about that? Maybe we should give him some motivation. Send him a finger or—"

“Listen Lucas,” The man cut him off, his voice was dangerously low, “when I said don’t touch her, I fucking meant it.”

Lucas staggered back, slipping for a moment to reveal a flicker of fear in his expression .

With a swift motion, he grabbed Lucas by the collar and punched him hard in the face.

I watched all this in horror while wishing I could close my eyes and be back in my room. Waking up to realize this is all a horrible nightmare.