CHAPTER THREE;THE RECOGNITION

Aria didn't know what to expect,she had been pushed into the dungeons like a piece of trash that she was. Of course she wasn't accepted anywhere.

She cried.

Cried for the kind of life she lived and the kind of world she was born into.She would have been a florist, painter or even an architect in another dimension far away from this society.

Then came the flashback of those eyes,she had surely seen those and would recognize them anywhere.Those crystal blue eyes were the first eyes that made her go wet in her teens.

She would never forget them.

Those messy hair she never failed to comb back in those days now slicked back and cut shoulder-length.Not to talk of his suit fitting him perfectly like it was custom made.

Was her instincts lying just because she hadn't seen him since her teens.Who was she kidding, Dominic is never going to come back.

She bent her head to cry in agony.

Suddenly the iron-bars were pushed open and two guards walked in.

She shifted back in fear

“Don’t touch me, leave me alone”She said with a shaky voice she wasn't even sure they heard.

The stares in the hallway were bringing back memories she didn't want to remember, those nights at the club where her father paraded her were nights of torment.

“Stop!!!”She yelled crying in pain as they threw her into another room.

She fell on the soft rugs and luckily this time her elbow wasn't bruised.

Immediately she scrutinized the room,she stopped crying.This room was nothing like a dungeon.

In fact,it was extremely cozy.

“This is your room"One of the guards said flatly.

“Why?”She whispered, shocked, looking around.

No answer but the door closed shut.

The soft lights glowed from the walls. The thick curtains in the room she was pushed into were nothing like the dungeon.The framed tall windows. A large bed stood at the center, untouched, sheets neat and white like they didn’t belong in this house of blood and gunpowder.

There was even a bathroom inside, clean and warm, the scent of expensive soap lingering in the air.

Aria stood frozen at the door. It looked unreal.

She staggered back, her legs giving way as she sank onto the edge of the bed. Her fingers clenched the fabric like it might disappear if she didn’t hold on.

Why was she here?

Why wasn’t she dead or punished?

And then the memory returned,sharp and vivid.

As she was being dragged down the hallway against the marbled tiles and the eyes of the maids/guards standing by.

Their eyes said something and everything she wanted to understand,why she was being taken out of the dungeon into the room of paradise.

She saw the gruesome looking face of the maids who had gathered to see the new object brought in hours ago.

The moment she was being dragged on the floor,she lifted her head once….just once and saw him.

Tall.Broad shoulders and that scar on his face that traced down to his chest standing In a corner looking like danger wrapped in elegance,power carved in the shadows.

And when his eyes met hers,her breath hitched,her heart skipped two beats.

Because she knew those eyes.

She had seen them before. Softer then. Warmer. Laughing as he wiped dirt off his hands and held out a flower stolen from his mother’s garden.

Dom…

Her chest tightened painfully.

But when she had been dragged closer, trembling and filthy and broken—

He had looked straight through her.

Cold. Distant. Unrecognizing.

As if she were nothing.

Another glance and he was gone.

The boy who once sought to protect her.

Tears burned her eyes, but none fell. She refused to cry….for him.

That same day, miles away, her father paced the length of a dimly lit room, sweat clinging to his skin despite the cool air.

“You said she would be safe,we had a deal, Roman”He yelled, slamming his fist on the table.

"I said she would be valuable”He chuckled darkly.

Russo's forehead tightened with barely suppressed rage.His hands shook from desperation.

Debt pressed down on him like a noose. The mafia wanted blood, and he had nothing left to offer.

Except her.

And he needed her the most.

“She’s still alive,” he muttered. “That means they want something.”

“Oh, they always do,” the man replied. “But I know someone who’ll pay more. Much more.”

Russo hesitated.

Human trafficking wasn’t new to him. He’d heard the whispers. The disappearances.

But desperation drowned guilt easily.

“She’s young,” he said weakly.

The man leaned forward, smiling sharply. “That’s why she’ll sell.”

Silence stretched.Then her father nodded.

“Set it up,” he said.

“Before time runs out”He deadpanned like the merciless man that he was,if only that was his real daughter,he chuckled darkly at the thought.

Back in the empire,Aria sat on the seat close to the window receiving the early morning sunshine of the day to at least comfort her pains.

She turned to look at the door,she had been trapped in her father's house all her life and now this?....All she wanted was a free life.

She walked to it and turned the knob.

Click!

It turned open like it was expecting her.She furrowed her brows in confusion.

Were these people intentionally doing this to her??

Stay back.

Of course,her inner mind always opposed her back, curiosity led her to open it and look out.Once again,an empty hallway.

She turned her head scrutinizing and calculating.

She stepped out tiptoeing and quietly shut the door behind her.

Guards stood at a distance, distracted, talking quietly among themselves,they didn't notice her presence.

Once again…this time quietly.

She ran.

Down corridors she didn’t recognize. Past rooms with closed doors. Past portraits of men who looked just as dangerous as the house itself.

Her lungs burned.

Then she stopped abruptly.

A door stood before her,slightly ajar.

She didn’t know how she knew.

But she did.

She didn't know what she was doing or why but she did it anyways.

She pushed it open.

The boss stood by the window,a cup in his hand,jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up.

The city lights painted sharp lines across his face, making him look like an image carved from stone.

He turned slowly and their eyes once again met for the third time.

This time,she was taking her chances.

Aria’s breath shook as she stepped forward slowly…carefully. “Dominic…?”

For the first time since she arrived, his mask cracked…a little.

Just barely.

But it was enough.

He walked to the door to check if anyone was watching.

“Who’re you?”he asked.

She shooked her head with dripping tears and shaking shoulders.

“Don’t do this”She whispered, with rattling teeths.

He paused.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said quietly.

Her heart shattered at the sound of his voice.

Deeper. Colder. Nothing like the boy she remembered.

“You know me,” she whispered.

Silence.

“I know who you were,” he replied.

Pain flared in her chest. “Then why did you look at me like I was nothing?”

His jaw tightened. He stepped closer, the air between them heavy and charged.

“Because recognizing you is dangerous.”

“For who?” she demanded,the tears she promised would never fall out finally spilling. “Me or you?”

His hand lifted, stopped midair then dropped.

He couldn't touch her cause he didn't trust himself enough to do that.

“You’re a hostage,” he said. “Nothing more.”

She laughed brokenly. “You moved me upstairs. You gave me a room. You didn’t touch me”

His eyes darkened.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he muttered.

“I know you,” she said softly. “Or I thought I did.”

She couldn't handle the disappointment,her heart ached so bad,her legs quivered so hard she thought she was going to fall.

She turned to leave,to go back to the room and stay there like the tool she was in the hands of all the devil she has been involved with.

That was his breaking point.

He caught her wrist, pulling her back not rough, but firm. Her body collided with his chest, heat and strength overwhelming her senses.

His expensive cologne and her dungeon smell surrounding her.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he growled.

Her breath hitched. “Why?, I'm useless”

Because the truth burned his tongue.

Because the little girl he once protected stood in front of him, bruised by a world he now ruled with violence and was a constant part of him which he refused to believe.

His hand cupped her face before he could stop himself.

And then??

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was desperate.

Like years of denial crashing down all at once.

Her fingers clutched his shirt instinctively, heart racing, fear and longing twisting together until she couldn’t tell them apart.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against hers, breath ragged.

“This can’t happen again,” he said hoarsely,voice turning cold.

Her lips trembled. “You already crossed the line.”

His eyes closed as he pushed her away.

He couldn't tell her,how his father threatened to kill her if he didn't uphold the mafia title,if he didn't stop mixing love with his royalty and stop being weak.

Mafia's never get married for love.Love is weakness and yes,she…..

She was his weakness he refused to admit.

He couldn't tell her the years of turmoil, he passed through to see her all to no avail,how right now the only thing he wished for was to devour her all night till her legs grew weak and her mouth exhausted from screaming his name.

Instead,he did the only thing he thought was right,he pushed her away.

Cold.Distant.Ruthless.

That's was he was known for

“Guards!!!”he barked.

Those mesmerizing brown eyes went blind with tears.

And somewhere far away, a man finalized plans to steal her away from the clan.