I knew she was coming. Everyone was excited about her arrival. They bragged about it for weeks—what she’d done, who she was, how much trouble she’d be, and how excited they were to have a new plaything. I thought it was just talk. Exaggerations to make the rest of us more scared. But the second they shoved her into this room, I knew the stories hadn’t even scratched the surface.
She’s gorgeous. And not the kind you stare at from across a bar and forget the next morning. No, this is the kind that makes you lose track of time, the kind that doesn’t make sense. Even chained, bloodied, and half-conscious, she still doesn’t look broken. She looks poised—waiting for the right moment to bite someone’s throat out.
I want a second with her. Just one second without his shadow hanging over us. But Nikolai stays in the darkness and comes in every time her eyes close.
I can’t even speak when he’s here—not unless I want a bullet between my eyes. So I watch. I wait. And I grind my teeth while he circles her, brushing her hair back, wiping the blood from her cheek like she’s a porcelain doll he doesn’t deserve to touch.
He’s a monster. And he’s treating her like she belongs to him.
That’s why I can’t wait for her to wake up—because if I’m right about her, she’ll tear his eyes out the second she gets the chance.
* * *
“Did they drug me again?”
Her voice is rough, but it bleeds through the silence. Ace—or whatever the hell her real name is—forces her eyes open and scans the room. She shifts against the restraints, chains clinking, but there’s no give. She’s been tied to those posts for almost two days straight. Her shoulders hang heavy, arms stretched above her, and I swear if they keep her there much longer, her joints are gonna lock up for good.
“Tell me your real name, Ace,” I say, watching her.
“Fuck off.”
I push myself to my feet so fast the chains at my ankles scrape across the floor. “Don’t you want to know what they do to you when you’re sleeping?”
She glares at me through her tangled hair. The drugs make her eyes glassy, but the fire’s still there. She doesn’t know. Nikolai’s the creep, but he hasn’t touched her—yet. I almost want to tell her that, but why bother?
“Tell me your name,” I press, stepping closer, “or the next time you close your eyes, I’ll make sure not to get involved. You might just wake up with a burn between your thighs.”
She spits the words at me without hesitation: “You’re pathetic.” Then she turns away, dismissing me completely.
The reaction hits me harder than it should. I hate it when she acts like this. Every damn time she wakes she’s pissed off, sharp-tongued, and ready to fight—as if she remembers all over again that she’s stuck in this room with me.
But newsflash—I didn’t ask for this either. I didn’t choose to be her roommate in this ridiculous cage.
The door slams open. Of course, it’s Nikolai.
He storms in, flinging every gate and door in his path, making sure the whole house knows he’s arrived. Grand entrances, theatrics—that’s him. Always has been. I hate it, but I’ve learned to anticipate it.
My gaze flicks to the girl posted beside me. Still defiant even under the haze of drugs. I wonder if he’s going to speak to her today. He’s careful when she’s awake—choosing his words carefully—knowing better than to push a live wire. But when she sleeps, he’s free to act the arrogant asshole he’s always been.
I tense as Nikolai stops mid-room, eyes sweeping over us, assessing, sizing up, showing off. I can feel Ace shift slightly in her restraints, her fingers curling.
It’s instinct.
She doesn’t trust him. Neither do I.
Chapter 30
Aurelia
FLASHBACK
Six years ago
Why the fuck did I think I could trust him?
“What did you call me?” The words come out before I even realize I’ve moved. Goosebumps rising all over my body, pushing him away from me.
He straightens slightly. “Uh, Aurelia.”
