He crouches beside me.
“Took you long enough,” he says, brushing a knuckle along my cheek.
I flinch. The touch burns. That’s when I realize—my wrists are tied, my ankles too. The rope is rough, digging into raw skin. I twist, panic slamming into my ribs.
“Where—where am I?”
He straightens, stretches like a cat with a mouse cornered. “My private den. I call it the House of Second Chances. Girls like you? You get a second shot at being worth something.”
My stomach lurches. “What do you want from me?”
He smirks. “Your brother didn’t pay. So nowyouwill.”
I shake my head desperately. “No—no, I have the money. I can pay?—”
“Youhadthe money,” he snaps, voice going sharp. “Now I do. And let me tell you, sweetheart," he adds, a cruel smirk blooming on his face. "You're worth much, much more than that flimsy stack of cash in your purse.”
He crouches again, closer this time. I can smell the smoke on his breath.
“I usually ship girls out fast. Eastern Europe. Big demand. But you?” He tilts his head. “You’re special. Soft. Sweet. I want a taste before I hand you off.”
I writhe, trying to pull away, but the ropes bite harder. My chest heaves. My eyes blur. “Don’t—don’t touch me.”
But his hand is already sliding down my side, slow and possessive. His fingers trace over my hip like he’s shopping. Then lower. Between my thighs.
I scream. Loud and broken. I twist, try to kick, but I’m bound too tight.
He laughs, amused. “Feisty. They always are at first.”
I can’t breathe. “Please, please don’t,”
“Begging?” He leans close, his lips grazing my ear. “It only gets me harder.”
He doesn't stop there. His hand trails lower, hovering with vile anticipation.
I try to recoil, try to vanish into the concrete beneath me, but the ropes won't give. They dig deeper, biting into raw skin as I twist and scream.
He chuckles darkly, his other hand gripping my jaw, forcing me to face him. “You know what I like about girls like you? You try so hard to fight. It makes it better. It makes itreal.”
His thumb presses against my lips, and I turn my face away, disgusted, heart beating so loud I can barely hear his next words.
“I was going to be gentle,” he whispers, almost mockingly. “But now? Now I want tohearyou break.”
I cry harder, choking on it. My vision blacks at the edges, lungs burning. I'm not just scared—I'm petrified.
My body feels like it belongs to someone else now. My thoughts aren’t thoughts anymore, just static and Luca’s name on repeat.
He leans closer, sliding his hand beneath the waistband of my skirt.
Tears stream down my face. I think of Luca. Of his hands. His voice. His warmth. He’s the only man I ever want touching my skin this way.
I’m so sorry,I whisper in my mind.I should’ve stayed. I should’ve trusted you.
And then?—
The doorexplodesinward.
Gunfire. Screams. The sound of boots slamming into the ground. Chaos.
