Chapter : 6. Walking into fire..

The moment I stepped through the college gates, something felt... off.

It was in the air. A strange tension crawling across my skin like static. The usual jeers and cruel laughter didn’t echo through the courtyard the way they normally did. No one threw paper balls at me. No one shoved past me at the locker.

They were watching me again.

But this time... it was different.

I stepped through the college gates, pulling my hood low over my forehead as the frayed strap of my secondhand bag dug into my sore shoulder. I was used to the stares. The whispered names. The way people scooted aside like I was contagious.

But today… something was different.

Their eyes weren’t mocking.

They were curious.

Wary.

Interested?

It was a shift in temperature I could feel in my bones—like someone had changed the air pressure around me.

I passed a group of girls near the fountain who immediately stopped talking and turned to look at me. Not laugh. Not sneer. Just… stare. As if I were a stranger. Or a warning.

I kept walking, arms tight against my sides, swallowing the pressure that swelled in my chest. Was my hoodie inside out? Were my bruises worse today? Did they know what happened at home?

Don’t think.

Just get through the day.

I was halfway up the stairs when I saw Nora.

She wasn’t with her usual pack. Just standing there, chewing her gum with a smirk and texting someone with fast, eager thumbs. She looked up when I passed and her eyes locked on mine—bright with something unnatural.

Excitement.

And then she grinned.

Not her usual venomous, mocking smile. This was different. Sharp. Like a cat watching a mouse walk into a trap.

Then she spoke into her phone.

“Yeah. She’s here.”

I didn’t stop.

I didn’t ask.

I didn’t want to know.

---

The first class passed like fog. I tried to focus on the lecture, taking notes in the back row, pretending not to feel the hairs on my arms standing straight up. Whispers kept breaking the silence of the room—not laughs, not insults. Just talking. About me. Behind me. Around me.

And I couldn’t understand why.

Until the door slammed open.

Everyone froze.

Three men walked in, dressed in black. Not the cheap, try-hard kind you see on campus. These suits were sharp. Pressed. Tailored. Their shoes were too clean. Their eyes too alert.

The professor blinked, startled. “Excuse me? Can I help you?”

They didn’t answer.

They walked straight toward me.

Every muscle in my body tensed.

I shrank in my seat as one of them—a tall, broad man with thick arms and close-cropped hair—reached down and grabbed me by the elbow.

“Hey—wait! Let go of me!” I yanked away, but he already had me on my feet, fast and brutal, like I was a bag of groceries.

The classroom gasped. No one moved. No one helped.

“Who are you?! What do you want?! Let go!”

My pulse thundered as another man gripped my other arm and they began dragging me from the classroom. I kicked, thrashed, screamed, but nothing changed. The professor called after them, but his voice sounded miles away.

And then I heard Nora—leaning by the open door, arms folded, grinning ear to ear.

“Hope you brought the cash. Told you she’d be here.”

My blood turned to ice.

She sold me.

---

The car ride was a blur of panic.

They shoved me into the back of a luxury vehicle and forced me down into the leather seat. My wrists were pulled behind my back and restrained—not with rope, but with something sleek and smooth. Leather.

Then a cloth bag was pulled over my head, plunging me into darkness.

I screamed, thrashed, begged—anything to make it stop.

“Where are you taking me?! Who the hell are you?! Please, I didn’t do anything—I don’t have money! Don’t hurt me, please!”

Silence.

Not a single word.

Only the soft hum of the engine and the occasional turn of the tires.

They didn’t speak because they didn’t have to. They weren’t here to explain. They were here to deliver.

The fear twisted tighter in my chest with every passing second. My brain raced through the possibilities. Traffickers? Gang members? Someone Selena owed money to? Or worse… Hector?

Maybe they were done with me now.

Maybe this was how they were getting rid of me—silently, efficiently, like you’d dispose of a stray dog on a back road.

My breathing grew ragged. I could barely swallow.

The only thing I could hear was my own heart pounding in my ears like a war drum.

And then the car stopped.

---

I was pulled from the vehicle and led through a corridor. I could smell faint cologne—expensive, sharp, masculine. Marble floors. Velvet walls. The air was warm and clean.

This wasn’t a warehouse.

It was… luxury.

Then I was pushed gently down onto a couch. Leather. Deep and wide.

“Sit still.”

That voice was gruff. Older. Not unkind.

And then they left.

I heard the echo of closing doors. Footsteps retreating.

And then—nothing.

Silence again.

Only my breathing to keep me company.

I stayed frozen, alone in the dark beneath the hood, wrists still bound, lungs trembling.

Was I about to be sold? Tortured? Or worse?

I sat in the darkness of that bag for what felt like a lifetime, wrists bound, mind unraveling. I thought about the kids. About Lyla. About Michael’s scream. About my mom’s picture in Serena’s hand.

Will I ever see it again?

I didn’t cry.

I didn’t even have tears left.

I just sat there in that abyss of nothing and waited.

Minutes passed.

Or maybe hours.

The silence stretched like elastic. My muscles ached. My mouth was dry.

Then the door opened again.

Footsteps—heavy and deliberate—echoed into the space.

A different pair. Slower. More controlled.

Not one of the men who dragged me in.

Someone else.

Then, a voice—calm, deep, smooth like smoke—cut through the silence.

“Has she been cleaned up yet?”

“Not yet, boss,” another voice replied. “Wanted to make sure she was conscious.”

A pause.

Then the same calm, chilling voice again.

“Bring Hugo. And remove the bag.”

---

The cloth was pulled off my head.

I blinked against the light, my eyes burning. My vision was blurry at first—shapes, shadows, outlines.

Then color.

Then clarity.

And I saw him.

Not the man who grabbed me.

Not the one who tied me.

This man was sitting across from me, legs spread wide, elbows on the arms of a throne-like chair upholstered in black. He was wearing a dark shirt rolled to the elbows, revealing muscular forearms lined in ink. His collar was open, revealing a glimpse of a sculpted chest and a silver chain glinting beneath his skin.

His face was sharp.

Like a weapon forged in elegance.

Dark brows. High cheekbones. A mouth that didn’t need to smile to command attention.

But it was his eyes that stopped my heart.

Pale grey.

And utterly terrifying.

They weren’t wild.

They were focused.

Like a predator who knew exactly how long to wait before biting.

I couldn’t breathe.

His gaze didn’t leave mine as he leaned forward.

Before he could speak, another man stepped into the room. Blond. Late thirties. Handsome in a sleazy sort of way. He smirked at me, then at the man on the chair.

“Finally she’s here, boss. Want me to get her ready?”

With a wave of hand he turned to me.

“Hey, sweetheart. Name’s Hugo. I’m the poor bastard who’s been running around this goddamn city for the past forty-eight hours because our boss—” he pointed a thumb at the seated man, “—saw your face once and decided he couldn’t breathe without you.”

I stared at him.

“What… are you talking about?”

Hugo raised a brow. “You don’t remember it, do you? The other night. Rain. Streetlight. You walked in front of a Rolls Royce.”

My breath hitched.

That rainy night…

The car that almost killed me..

He was the one in that car?

Hugo chuckled. “Yeah. That was us. Our car nearly ran you over. But instead of ignoring you like a sane person, our boss just sat there—dead silent, staring at you like you’d fallen out of a wet dream.”

He dropped into a casual seat beside me, ignoring my flinch.

“He had a vision, or some shit. Said he saw something. Hasn’t slept since. You think I’m exaggerating?” Hugo leaned closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing a dirty secret. “He made us buy you from your classmates. Paid your fried there five grand just for your class schedule. And when we couldn’t find you the next day, he trashed half his office and made me call every damn school within fifty miles.”

I stared at him, wide-eyed, horrified.

“You’re lying.”

“I wish I was.” He tilted his head. “So here’s the deal, sweetheart: don’t waste his effort. Do whatever he wants. Because when Vincent Burke wants something, he gets it. One way or another.”

A chill climbed up my spine.

“I’ll take her along now, boss.”Hugo stood and Smirked at his boss.

“Wait. Give us a minute.” With another wave of his hand, everyone left the room, leaving only us two alone.

And then the man—Vincent—rose from his chair.

He crossed the space between us like a shadow. Controlled. Commanding.

He stood over me, his gaze sweeping down my body, slow and consuming.

And then he spoke—quiet, low, dangerous.

“Hello, Ana. I’ve waited longer for you than I’ve waited for anything in my life.”

My name from his lips sent a tremor through me.

“H-how do you know my name?” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

He leaned forward slowly, like a lion taking his time.

“I make it my business to know everything that belongs to me.”

Belongs to him?

I blinked. “What... what do you want from me? Why did you bring me here?”

He didn’t answer immediately. He just stared. Studied me. Like he could see through the fear, the confusion, the bruises... straight into the pieces I didn’t show anyone.

Then he said it.

“Because you caught my attention.”

I stared at him, stunned. “What...?”

“You threw yourself into my world like it was fate. And I don't like to ignore fate, Ana.”

He stood up.

I tried to stand too, but my legs didn’t respond.

He towered over me.

Deadly. Elegant. Calm.

“I had to see if you were real. And now I know you are.”

My chest rose and fell in shallow, panicked breaths.

He reached down—slowly—and undid the leather strap around my wrists.

His fingers brushed my skin and I flinched.

But not out of fear.

Out of... something else.

Something hot and terrifying and wrong.

He tilted my chin up with two fingers. His eyes held mine.

“Don’t be afraid of me, Ana,” he whispered. “I already know how you’re gonna taste.”

I sucked in a sharp breath.

He smirked. Not kindly, but cruelly.

Like a man who already owned me in ways I hadn’t yet understood.

And standing there before him, trembling and alone—I realized something that made my stomach flip.

He hadn’t just kidnapped me.

He’d claimed me.