Trapped With the CEO

My eyes fluttered open and my heart jolted in fright. A sharp yank on my hair sent pain shooting through my scalp, dragging me into a harsh reality. I couldn’t tell what made my heart thunder so violently. Was it the terrifying dream I’d just escaped from… or the icy gaze of the man draping over me?

My head throbbed mercilessly as I was dragged out of the room, drawing closer reluctantly to the place I feared with every fiber of my being. 

The basement was dimly lit, damp, and suffocating. It was hidden beneath the bustling streets of Tokyo’s Shinjuku district. The air reeked of blood, sweat, and something worse… fear. My stomach churned. What was I in for this time?

I dare not ask Roland, who was no better than my dreaded boss. So, I just allowed myself to be dragged ruthlessly. 

We passed by the large hall we all called Judgment Hall and I saw him - Marcus, my worst nightmare. 

He stood tall, menacing, his presence screaming cunningness and ruthlessness. Marcus is the underground’s most feared loan shark and mafia lord. And the very person who held my life in his bloodstained hands.

“Do you know what happens to debtors like you?” I heard him sneered, tightening his grip around a man's throat. His voice dripped with venom. “They never live to tell their story. Well, maybe they do... in hell. To others like them.”

The poor man shook in his grip, his face purpling, eyes bulging in panic. “P-please... just a little more time... I’ll pay, I swear—”

Without hesitation, Marcus’s expression darkened, and with one brutal motion, he swung a plank into the man's skull. The sickening crunch and the bone shattering like glass beneath a hammer made my heart sink in pain. Blood splattered across the floor and the man collapsed, lifeless on the floor. 

Marcus didn’t flinch. He simply walked away, his boots echoing against the cold concrete. His men moved in swiftly, expressionless, to clean up the mess like it was just another day’s work.

I shut my eyes. I couldn’t bear to watch him… that monster with a smirk tugging at his lips.

He stopped right in front of me and that was when I realized we had stood in front of the hall all these while.

His eyes narrowed, glinting with familiar contempt. Then he brushed past, entering his office. I exhaled shakily, thinking for a moment that he was done with me but I was wrong. Roland, the brute who’d dragged me here, pulled me forward again.

Marcus settled into his leather chair, poured himself a glass of scotch, and fixed his gaze on the screen in front of him. Video footage played showing his men, beating the life out of another debtor. A boy, barely older than me, begging for mercy, wailing that his mother was dying.

Marcus didn’t blink. He was having fun watching him plead for dear life.

“Increase the interest rate on his loan,” he said into the intercom, voice flat and cold. “And make sure he knows what happens to those who can’t pay.”

A sinister light crossed his face as the boy’s screams echoed through the speakers, earning him a cold smile.

I stood still, mute and disgusted. I watched him annoyingly, hating him with every fibre of my soul. My heart raced, riddled with questions and the growing fear that something worse was coming. I kept my expression blank, but inside, I was boiling. Wishing I could strangle him to death. 

“Come here,” he said, casually, as though he were inviting a pet closer.

Roland released me, pushing me toward him.

My legs trembled. My heart slammed against my chest like it wanted to be out. I should be used to all this by now, the terror, the cruelty and the torture. But something about today felt different. And that scared me more than anything. 

Marcus’s underground coven was a trap in disguise. It's made up of a gambling house, a haven for fools who wanted to win big, only to fall into debt and despair. He lured them in with fake smiles, let them win, then buried them under impossible loans. When they couldn’t pay, their lives became his currency.

But that wasn’t all.

He ran a massive empire, hidden to the world where narcotics, firearms, you name it run like water. Marcus is ruthless, cunning, and filthy rich. And everyone in the underworld knew one thing: cross Marcus, and you vanish.

I clutched the hem of my dress, my fingers trembling. His eyes sparkled with a sinister glint making my skin crawl.

“My little ugly duckling,” he mocked, his voice sneering over me. “What did I tell you about glaring at me like that, huh?” He yanked my wrist, pulling me toward him. His fingers brushed against me like a predator testing his prey.

I didn’t resist because I knew better.

My shoulders slumped, my eyes burning with unshed tears. I stood still with a shallow breath, sickened by his touch. I wouldn't give him that satisfaction of seeing me in pain. 

God knows how much I loathed him. I loathe his voice, his scent, his very existence.

For twelve years, I’d been trapped in this nightmare. Ever since my own father, no, Dante, sold me to this monster like I was nothing, the scars on my skin were stories… but the ones inside? They never stopped bleeding.

“You’re nothing but my little puppet,” he said with that cruel smirk, tightening his grip on my arm. “So you bow, and you tremble… because I own you.”

He laughed in his usual hollow and heartless manner. 

But then his mood shifted. His eyes darkened, and he grabbed my ear hard.

“You better answer when I speak to you, wench,” he growled. “I have a job for you. Do it well… and maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you see a glimpse of my kind side.”

My head dropped. I didn’t dare look at him. The fear in my dream clawed back into my chest. I hiccupped, tears threatening again as I silently cursed the life I’d been forced to live. What job for Pete's sake?

I squeezed my eyes shut as I anticipated his next words. 

But then those words made them fly open.

“You’ll be going undercover as a maid at the Salvatore villa,” he said, his tone flat as ice. “I’ve already submitted your application. Lucky for you, you were selected.”

My heart dropped, my face widened with horror. Undercover as a maid?

Before I could process my thoughts, he gestured to the projector in the corner, and an image of a glittering golden watch flickered onto the screen. It wasn't just an ordinary gold watch, it looked out of this world, something I couldn't define. 

My heart raced at the sight and my palm itches in nervousness. 

“This is your objective,” his voice jolted me back. “Retrieve it. Bring it to me. That’s your main priority.”

Tossing me a sleek comms device, he continued. “Keep me updated with this, always fixed to your ear. Your work begins tomorrow.”

My knees wobbled as reality dawned on me.

Salvatore villa? The place from my dream, the one where I saw my own death? The estate no one could break into? I've heard whispers about the estate. How its security was infamous and impossible to breach. And now I was being sent there as a thief, a spy and to survive on my own. 

“The slightest mistake will cost your life,” Marcus said, his voice came in a venomous whisper as he pinned me to the wall. “Get the damn watch within a week and return here. You belong to me. Don’t forget that.”

Terror seized me and I nodded shakily, gasping for air

He let me go and stormed out, with Roland following suit, leaving me to collapse, tears finding their way to my eyes under the weight of his command.

But as I stared at the image of the golden watch still glowing on the screen…

A strange feeling stirred in my chest.

Why did it feel like this mission is about to change my life?