“I’ll unchain you… but you behave,” he grunts.
I maintain eye contact, nodding once.
He kneels, inserting the key into my ankle cuffs and unlocking me. The metal slides free with a small click, echoing in the dark room.
Glancing down, I notice his hands trembling from the effort—or maybe from nervous anticipation. “How old are you?” I ask, casually masking my curiosity as if I care.
“Nineteen,” he answers.
So young and so stupid to already be involved in this life.
I know I’m only three years older, but I didn’t choose this. A pang of sympathy flickers, and I smother it. He’s not my problem. Survival comes first.
“My name is Sergio,” he says, quieter now, almost afraid I’ll think less of him.
“Mine is Ace,” I reply.
The single word hangs between us, casual yet charged, loaded with possibility.
The air between us feels heavier now. His hesitation, his obvious attraction, his inexperience—they’re all tools I can use. And for the first time in days, I feel a small surge of control.
He looks at me for a long, lingering moment before his lips slam against mine, his tongue stabbing against my teeth, forcing its way into my mouth again and again.
I swear the man is trying to swallow my entire face. My first impulse is panic, but survival wins out—I can’t afford to resist. I take a breath and whisper, “Take me to bed.”
A grin spreads across his face. He locks his hand firmly with mine and pushes open the heavy gate.
My eyes scan the space I’ve been living in from the outside—the grey walls, the harsh textures—it all screams dungeon, a cold basement prison. I force myself to look closer, spotting two locked doors at the back of the room.
I assume that’s where they’ve been taking Adrian to torture him.
But then my eyes look up to Sergio as he leads me up a cold set of stairs, a grey light glowing beneath the door.
The door swings open to a completely different world. For the first time, I see this hellhole in daylight. It’s just after sunset, so the sky is grey but not consumed by darkness. Red velvet lines the couches. Chandeliers hang from the ceilings, dripping crystal over polished wood floors. Floor-to-ceiling curtains frame massive windows, and for a second, I’m blinded by the luxury. It’s over-the-top, decadent—a world I should feel safe in but can’t.
As we turn the corner, six older men sit around a gold circular table, playing poker. Their eyes snap to us immediately. I can tell—they’re men hardened by years of brutality, likely Nikolai’s father’s generation—Viktor’s.
One bald man shouts, “Chto delayet nash priz vne kletki, Sergio?”
Sergio hesitates a fraction, then responds quickly, “YA beru yego na test-drayv. No ne volnuytes’, ya ostavlyu na nom lish’ neskol’ko tsarapin.”
I freeze, suddenly hyper-aware that I’m completely exposed, every inch of me on display to men who don’t seem to possess a shred of humanity. My breath hitches, but I force myself to focus. Breathe.
You’ve survived men like these before. Just get to an exit.
Sergio spins me around for their amusement, pressing my ass against him in a crude show, and I can feel the laughter and cheers echoing around me. I clench my jaw, forcing back nausea, hating every second of this display—but I remind myself it’s temporary.
“Ty smozhesh’ zabrat’ yeye, kak tol’ko ya zakonchu. Day mne pyatnadtsat’.”
Every second I endure brings me closer to a chance to escape. I repeat it in my head, over and over until I can’t hear the disrespect anymore.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he stops, leading me down a hallway to what seems to be a spare room. It’s stark, without any personal belongings or comfort. I lean against the doorframe for a moment, my chest heaving, mind racing with how I want to handle this.
Even surrounded by luxury in the hands of someone ostensibly on my side, I know the danger hasn’t left me. Survival is still the game, and I have to play it perfectly.
He immediately unbuckles his pants, and my stomach drops. I realize there’s no stopping this here, in plain sight of the others. Any attempt would get me killed—or worse. I’ll have to play a longer game, survive, and wait for an opportunity. Survival first, revenge later.
He pulls me in, taking my mouth with a force that makes me gasp, one hand wrapping tightly around my neck while the other squeezes my ass.
