Chapter 3

My blood ran cold.

I pressed my ear against the connecting door, barely breathing. Damien’s voice came through low and sharp on the other side.

“Watch her closely, Rico. She’s smarter than she looks. And if any Moretti loyalists come sniffing around tonight, shoot first.”

Rico answered with a grunt. 

“You really think she’s worth all this trouble, boss? She’s soft. Normal girl.”

“She’s Marco’s blood,” Damien replied. 

“That alone makes her dangerous. Keep your eyes on every window, no mistakes.”

Footsteps moved away. I backed up fast and sat on the edge of the bed, heart racing. Soft? I’ll show them how soft.

A few minutes later, the main door to my room unlocked. A young woman with short black hair and a tray in her hands stepped inside. She looked tough, like she’d seen fights before, but her eyes weren’t cruel.

“Boss says you need to eat,” she said, setting the tray on the small table. Simple but it smelled good. 

“My name is Lena. I work for Mr. Voss.”

I stayed sitting, watching her carefully. “Are you my guard or my maid?”

Lena gave a small shrug. 

“Both tonight. Eat. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“I’m not hungry.” My stomach growled right after I said it. Traitor.

She pulled out a chair and sat across from me. 

“Look, I get it. Waking up in this place is rough but starving yourself won’t help you fight back. Eat first, then plan your escape or whatever.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You sound like you’ve been through this.”

“Something like that,” Lena said. 

She pushed the tray closer. 

“Damien doesn’t usually bring women here. Not like this. You must be special.”

“Special?” I picked up the fork but didn’t eat yet. 

“He called me leverage. An asset. Like I’m a damn car he just bought.”

Lena leaned back and crossed her legs. 

“That’s how he talks. Cold as ice. But he’s kept you alive when others would’ve planted a bullet in your head already. That means something in our world.”

I took a small bite. The food was warm and actually good.

“Did you know my father?”

“Marco?” She shook her head. 

“Only by reputation. Mean bastard. Kept a lot of secrets…..including you.”

“Yeah, I’m learning that.” I ate another bite, anger mixing with the hunger. 

“Damien says he didn’t kill him. You believe that?”

Lena glanced at the connecting door before answering. 

“It doesn’t matter what I believe. Boss says he didn’t do it, so we move like that's the truth. But plenty of people wanted Marco dead. He burned bridges everywhere.”

I set the fork down. “And now they want me. Great.”

The door opened again. This time Damien walked in, still in that black shirt, sleeves rolled up. He looked at the tray, then at me. 

“Good. You’re eating.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” I shot back. 

“Even prisoners get hungry.”

Lena stood up quickly. 

“I’ll wait outside, boss.”

Damien nodded once. She left and closed the door. 

Now it was just us again.

He walked over and leaned against the wall, watching me finish the pasta. 

“You met Lena, she’ll bring you clothes tomorrow, things that actually fit.”

“Am I supposed to say thank you?” I pushed the empty plate away. 

“For kidnapping me and giving me new outfits?”

He ignored the sarcasm. 

“Tomorrow morning we will start on your father’s files. You’ll sit with Rico and me. Tell us everything you remember about his calls, his visitors, anything.”

I stood up and faced him. 

“And if I say no?”

Damien pushed off the wall and stepped closer. 

“Then I lock this room and you stay here until you change your mind. Simple.”

“You’d really do that?” My voice rose. 

“Keep me like a pet?”

“I’d do worse to keep this empire from falling apart.” 

His grey eyes locked on mine. 

“People are already moving against us. I need to know what weapons your father left behind. And you’re the key.”

I swallowed. 

“What if I don’t want to help you? What if I hope they take you down?”

He smiled lightly and coldly. 

“Then you’d be signing your own death warrant too. The same people coming for me will come for you twice as hard. You’re Marco’s daughter. They won’t care that you paint pretty pictures and teach kids.”

The words hit hard. I turned away and walked to the window. It was locked tight, of course. Bars outside. 

“I hate this. I hate you.”

“Good,” Damien said quietly. 

“Hate keeps you sharp, use it.”

I spun back around. 

“Why do you even care if I live or die? Be honest.”

He stayed silent for a few seconds. 

“Because keeping you alive gives me control over the Moretti territory. And maybe…” 

He stopped.

“Maybe what?” I pressed.

“Maybe I don’t enjoy watching innocent girls get slaughtered for their father’s sins,” he finished. 

“Even if their last name is Moretti.”

I laughed once, sharply. 

“Innocent? You don’t know me.”

“No,” he agreed. 

“But I’m starting to see you’re not as soft as Rico thinks.”

Heavy footsteps sounded outside in the hall, voices, raised voices.

Damien’s head snapped toward the door. His whole body changed, tense and ready.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

“Stay here,” he ordered. 

He moved to the connecting door.

A loud bang came from somewhere in the mansion…..then shouting.

“Boss!” Rico’s voice roared from the hallway. 

“We’ve got company. Moretti men at the gate. They say they want the girl. Now.”

Damien pulled a gun from his waistband. He checked it fast, eyes hard. 

“Stay in this room, Isabella. Lock the connecting door behind me.”

My heart slammed against my chest. 

“What if they get inside?”

He looked back at me, gun in hand. 

“Then I kill every last one of them.”

He stepped out. The door shut.

I rushed over and locked it like he said, hands shaking. 

More shouting echoed through the walls. Gunshots cracked in the distance.

I backed away from the door, breathing fast. They came for me already, on my very first night and the man who might have killed my father was now standing between them and me.