Chapter 4

Reina’s POV

This was no longer the hospital. It was no longer the betrayal.

This was something worse.

“Hey! Hey! Wake up!” a voice called from the deep slumber I was in.

It was a dream… It was all a dream. I chanted in my head repeatedly, slowly opening my eyes, feeling very drowsy. Where was I? I should be in my room, practicing but… I was…

“Snap out of it!” the voice said, and I turned toward the direction.

A young girl my age was in front of me, looking at me with worry.

“Finally! You need to get a hold of yourself now. There's no time to slack or you’ll be dealt with.”

I tried to refresh my memory, looking around the container that seemed to be moving, the one we were sitting in.

It wasn’t a dream. I couldn’t speak, and then I was given something in the hospital.

I looked around, frightened, trying to figure out where we were.

“There’s no need for that… We are about to get sold.”

Sold.

I was about to get sold.

I stared at her. It wasn’t even a question. I cursed that I couldn’t speak.

I tried to force a sound, but nothing.

“Wait… You can't speak?” she asked, looking at me curiously.

I slowly nodded.

“Shit! I’m so sorry,” she said, patting my hand.

I looked at the gesture with surprise. She didn’t even know me.

She suddenly raised her hands and made some signs.

I shook my head again.

“No? You don't know sign language?” she asked, and I nodded. “It hasn't been long since you lost your voice?”

I nodded again.

“Well, I know a bit of ASL. My sister was mute as well. I could teach you. My name is Bella.”

What was the use? My life was already a mess. What would learning sign language change?

But I still nodded.

She started teaching me, and it went on for hours… maybe days, until the truck finally came to a stop.

I went stiff as I looked at Bella, preparing for whatever was behind the door.

It opened suddenly, and a bald, short man came for us.

We were no longer in the city. Armed masked men stood at every corner. Black uniforms. Sharp eyes.

Podolskaya territory. Mafia city.

My stomach twisted as I swallowed. Bella’s grip tightened before we were separated.

“Don’t look scared,” she whispered quickly. “They feed on fear.”

It was too late.

Fear was all I was made of right now.

We were pulled out one by one.

The mansion stood ahead… massive, stone, almost medieval. There was no warmth. No light spilling from the windows. Just silent power.

This wasn’t a home. It was a fortress, and I was walking into it as property. I noticed something strange. There were no women. Only armed men, watching.

We were lined up again, but not for bidding this time… for inspection.

My heart pounded.

I suddenly heard footsteps from the grand staircase, and I instantly knew who it was before I saw him.

Rai Mikailov.

He turned to one of his men.

“Separate them. The useful ones go downstairs. The rest…” he paused slightly, “…we’ll decide.”

Useful, he said. I stiffened.

What made someone useful in a place like this?

Bella was pulled to the left. I was pulled to the right.

Our eyes met. Her brave expression cracked for half a second.

Then she mouthed, “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t, but I nodded anyway.

We were taken through different corridors. I was shoved into a small room and stood in the center, trying to understand something.

Why me? Why did he choose me?

He recoiled when he touched me.

So why?

Rai suddenly stepped inside silently as I stared at him. He closed the door behind him. The sound of the lock sliding into place echoed in the room.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t move immediately either. He just stood there, watching me.

My breathing turned shallow. I forced myself not to shrink.

Not to tremble. Not to look weak.

But my hands betrayed me, curling into fists at my sides to stop them from shaking.

He walked slowly until he stopped in front of me… very close.

My heart thundered. I was sure he could hear it.

Up close, he was worse.

The scar on his neck was more visible now… jagged, deliberate. It didn’t look accidental. It looked like a memory carved into skin.

His eyes dropped to my face, then lower, to my throat.

I swallowed instinctively, His gaze followed the movement.

Heat flooded my chest. Not warmth.

Exposure.

He reached out suddenly and I flinched.

His fingers wrapped around my jaw, tilting my face upward, forcing me to meet his eyes.

He liked eye contact? He did this the last time.

Not gently. Not violently either. My pulse roared in my ears.

He studied me the way predators study movement. I knew it wasn’t beauty or innocence he was looking at.

It was weakness.

His thumb pressed slightly beneath my chin, testing while my body betrayed me and I trembled.

His eyes darkened. Then he released me just as suddenly. I stumbled half a step back, catching myself.

He circled me slowly like I was something on display. I forced myself not to turn with him. I stared ahead, feeling his presence behind me, near me, everywhere at once.

It was dead silent.

Then he stopped behind me, close enough for me to feel his breath near my ear.

“Look at me.” The command was low.

I turned slowly.

My eyes met his… Dark grey, empty…. Bottomless

He leaned down slightly, bringing his face level with mine. “Do you understand where you are?”

I nodded before I could stop myself.

His jaw tightened.

“I don’t ask for nods.”

My throat burned. I thought he knew already or was he confirming?

I opened my mouth.

Nothing…. Just air…Only air.

Frustration burned behind my eyes, then his gaze dropped to my lips as they parted uselessly.

Then he grabbed my chin again. Harder this time.

My head snapped slightly to the side as his thumb pressed against my throat.

It wasn’t choking. At least not yet.

His gaze flicked down, then back up as he leaned closer. I could see faint specks of silver in his irises.

“So it’s true… You can’t.”

My vision blurred slightly.

I shook my head once. He was confirming.

He held my stare for a long moment, searching, assessing.

Then his grip loosened. He stepped back, walking toward the small metal table and dragged his fingers across its surface.

Then he turned back to me.

“You tried to die.”

He took one step forward.

“I’m warning you again. If you attempt it again,” he said calmly, “I won’t stop them.”

My stomach twisted violently. He moved closer again, stopping inches away.

I could see the faint scar across his eyebrow now. Another along his knuckles.

A man built from violence.

His hand lifted again, but this time he didn’t grab me.

He hovered it near my throat.

Then lowered it slowly, like he was reconsidering something, his eyes narrowed slightly.

He was interested in me. Dark interest.

Would it turn into desire too?

But what I saw was curiosity.

And that was worse.

He straightened to his full height, towering and dominating. Without looking at me again, he turned toward the door. He opened it and stepped out.

The lock clicked again and I finally exhaled.

My knees weakened, but I forced myself to stay standing. I stared at the door long after he was gone. My throat still burned where his fingers had pressed.

He knew.

He knew I couldn’t speak, and he hadn’t looked disappointed. He hadn’t looked angry.

He had looked intrigued.

And that terrified me more than cruelty would have because cruel men act fast, curious men take their time.

And men like Rai Mikailov?

They don’t get curious without a reason.