CHAPTER FOUR

I told myself I wouldn’t think about him again. So I hid the envelope before Amaya could see it, she was already waiting for me at home.

She was sprawled across my bed when I walked in, scrolling her phone like nothing in the world could touch her. “Where’d you disappear to?” she asked casually, without looking up.

“Nowhere. Just needed air,” I said quickly, dropping my bag by the chair. My voice didn’t even waver, but my heart slammed against my ribs. I hated lying to her, but how could I tell her I’d been sitting across from her father, while he tried to make me one of his mistresses.

She didn’t push. Thank God. She just nodded, humming to herself, already distracted by whatever was on her screen.

That should have been the end of it. I wanted it to be.

But life has a cruel way of cornering you.

Two days later, everything collapsed. My rent was overdue. My mother called me, voice trembling as she begged for money she thought I had. I stared at the bills stacked on the kitchen table like little knives, each one slicing away at my pride.

By nightfall, my hands shook as I held the small slip of paper I’d sworn I would never use. His number. His neat, bold handwriting, so sure of himself, so certain I’d cave.

My throat burned as I dialed. Each ring was a hammer against my chest, and I prayed he wouldn’t answer. But he did. On the second ring.

“Selene.” His voice was smooth, like he had been waiting for me. “I told you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, swallowing my pride along with the bile in my throat. “Mario… about your offer.”

A pause. I could hear the satisfaction in his silence.

“Say it, Selene,” he murmured. “Say you need me.”

The word lodged in my throat like glass. I refused to give him that. “Can we meet?” I forced out instead.

“Of course,” he said, like it had all been decided long ago. “The same place. Tonight.”

When he hung up, I sat frozen, the phone slipping from my hand onto the bed. My heart raced, a mix of fury and shame.

I stared at the phone long after the call ended, his voice still coiled around my mind like smoke.

What was I doing?

The paper bills on the table answered for me. Every single one was a reminder of the trap I was in. But still, I sat there for an hour, telling myself over and over that I wouldn’t go. That I couldn’t.

By the time the sky outside turned dark, I was still pacing the living room like a caged animal.

He’ll think he owns you.

He already thinks that.

And maybe he’s right.

I grabbed my jacket three times and threw it back down. I told myself I’d call Amaya, ask her for help, but the thought of explaining anything made me anxious. She could never know.

Finally, when the clock struck ten, I caught my reflection in the mirror. My face looked pale, exhausted, my eyes were hollow.

“Just once,” I whispered to the girl in the mirror. “Get what you need and get out.”

By the time I locked the door behind me, my hands were trembling so badly I could barely fit the key in the lock.

The city blurred past as the cab sped toward the hotel. My chest was tight, my fingers digging into my thighs as I tried not to think of what awaited me. Every red light was another chance to tell the driver to turn around. But I didn’t.

When the car finally stopped in front of the sleek, towering building, I froze. The lights from the lobby spilled out onto the pavement like a trap laid just for me.

I almost told the driver to keep going. But then I saw him.

Through the glass doors, sitting at the bar, drink in hand, smoke curling lazily from his lips, Don Mario. Waiting.

And God help me, I pushed the door open.

The lobby was nearly empty, the kind of silence that makes every sound echo. My heels clicked against the polished marble floor, each step betraying how shaky my legs felt.

He saw me instantly. Of course he did. Those dark eyes of his locked onto me..

“Selene.” His voice slid across the room like velvet dipped in smoke. “I was beginning to think you’d disappoint me.”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “Maybe I should’ve.”

He didn’t rise right away. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, cigarette balanced between his fingers, watching me the way a predator watches a rabbit, patient, unhurried, certain of the ending. The low amber lights cast shadows across his sharp jaw, making him look even more dangerous.

“Sit,” he said finally, gesturing to the empty seat beside him.

My heart thudded against my ribs, but I sat. The leather was cool against my skin, and the smell of whiskey and smoke clung to the air around him. Too close. Too intimate.

“You ignored my first offer,” he said smoothly, flicking ash into the tray. “Brave. Or foolish. I can’t decide which.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” I managed, though my voice wavered.

His eyes darkened, almost amused. He leaned closer, his cologne wrapping around me, expensive and intoxicating. “Then why are you here, Selene?”

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

He chuckled low, a sound that curled in my stomach. “You came back because you need me. Because there’s no one else who can give you what you want.”

I felt pissed, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “You know nothing about me.” I uttered angrily.

His lips tilted into a knowing smirk. He set down his glass and leaned in so close his breath brushed against my ear. “I know enough. I know your little world is falling apart. I know you can’t keep fighting it on your own. And I know…” his voice dropped, low and dangerous, “…that you feel this pull between us just as much as I do.”

Heat rushed through me, my skin betraying me as goosebumps prickled down my arms. I hated the truth in his words.

I turned to face him, our lips inches apart, and forced a bitter laugh. “You think you can buy me? Intimidate me into wanting you?”

His eyes flicked down to my lips and back up, slow, deliberate. “No,” he murmured, “I don’t need to.”

For one terrifying, electrifying second, I thought he might kiss me. My chest rose and fell too fast.

And then, I shot up from the chair, my legs unsteady but moving anyway. “You’re wrong,” I snapped, my voice sharp even though it shook. “You don’t own me, and you never will.”

His laugh followed me as I stormed toward the door.

“You’ll come back, Selene,” he called softly after me. “They always do.”

I don’t remember deciding to call him. My fingers moved on their own, dialing the number he’d given me. But next evening, I found myself back at that hotel suite. Same golden lights, same smell of whiskey and smoke, same man lounging at the bar waiting for me.

Mario looked up, with his dark eyes sweeping over me like he was about to claim me. He didn’t ask why I came. He already knew.

“So,” he said, setting aside his glass, “you’ve made your choice.”

My throat was dry. “I’ll accept your… offer.”

“Say it properly, Selene. I want to hear it.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “I’ll be your mistress.” The words tasted like shame, but also relief that at least my mother would be getting good treatments.

He leaned forward, his gaze fixed on me. “Good girl,” he said.

Before I could breathe again, one of his men stepped inside, tall and dressed in black. Mario handed him an envelope, not even glancing away from me.

“Take care of it,” he ordered.

The man nodded, slipping out.

I frowned. “What was that?”

Mario’s smirk deepened. He rose from his chair and closed the space between us. “Your mother’s hospital bill. Paid in full. As of five minutes ago, she owes nothing.”

I was in shock. “You..”

He tilted his head with satisfaction. “You belong to me now, Selene. And I take care of what’s mine.”

He touched my chin with two fingers, tilting my face up.

And then he kissed me.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. His mouth claimed mine with slow, devastating pressure, tasting of whiskey and smoke, filling every corner of me until I forgot my own name.

When he pulled back, his lips brushed mine as he murmured, “Welcome to my world, Selene.”

I was breathless, trembling, and already too far gone.

“You’re mine now,” he whispered. “Which means your choices are no longer your own.”

I shivered. “And if I regret this?” I asked, my voice breaking.

Mario leaned in, his breath hot against my ear.

“Then I’ll remind you of your mother’s hospital bill,” he said softly. “One wrong step, Selene… and she won’t wake up tomorrow.”

My heart stopped.