Someone’s here. Goosebumps prickle down my body as I clutch the thin blanket closer to me and back into the far corner of the cage, the farthest I can get away, kicking the empty bucket to the front. Right now my options are limited. There’s not much I can do at all. But I’ll bite, kick and scratch whoever’s coming in here. I won’t let them get away with this.
They took my chance at freedom. They better give it back.
The door slowly opens as I wait with bated breath.
I see a tray first. It’s silver, and sitting on top is a small, dark blue plastic cup as well as something else. It’s balanced in his massive hand as the man enters. My heartbeat slows as the door clicks shut and he turns, facing me with piercing blue eyes. They're almost like ice. His gaze freezes my heart and my rage, anger, and confusion all vanish. In their place is lust.
His corded muscles ripple as he walks toward me with confidence and an air of authority. His presence alone makes my heart stop. The way he carries himself makes it obvious that he’s the epitome of power and control. It terrifies me while it also does something else. It ignites a fire in me that I didn’t know existed. It’s dangerous. He’s dangerous.
His bright white shirt is pulled tight over his shoulders, and his faded jeans are hung low on his hips. So low that I catch a glimpse of the deep muscular “V” at his lower abdomen as he walks, and my lips part with a hunger to see more.
I swallow thickly as he closes the space between us. He’s a Romano. Is he going to hurt me, kill me, or torture me? I’m not sure which. But whatever his plans are, maybe I can make a deal. I don’t have anything he can truly want or need. I know nothing about my father’s business, and I doubt they’re looking to ransom me off. Taking me was a message. My father got that message, and now they can let me go.
I try to gather the courage to speak, to plead, or to fight. To do something. Instead my body remains paralyzed as he steps forward, setting the tray down on the floor in front of the cage.
He crouches on the floor and tilts his head, as if wondering what I’m thinking. Behind his eyes is a cold threat. His expression is completely devoid of emotion. Fear cripples me for a moment, but I gather my strength. I can’t be weak. Not now.
“Wh- Who are you?” I’m ashamed of the stutter and the weak sound of my voice as it cracks. But at least I’ve managed to speak.
He clucks his tongue, contemplating his answer, and sits on the ground, looking into my eyes. “You can call me Gio. There’s no harm in that.”
My brows draw in at his comment. I don’t understand. “You’re a Romano?” I ask feebly. I don’t think my father would lie about who took me, but I need to make sure.
He huffs a humorless laugh. “No, they gave you to me.”
My lips part at his confession, the words slowly sinking in. I’m a gift. My body chills, and my throat closes and I feel as though I’m suffocating. The Rossis won’t come for me. How would my father even know where I am, if the Romanos didn't take me? My breathing comes in frantic pants. No one’s going to save me.
“Don’t worry, Grace.” My eyes dart to his. He knows my name. But I don’t recognize his voice. “I won’t come into your cage. You’re safe there. From everything and everyone as long as you’re in the cage.”
He pushes the tray closer to me, and it scrapes gently across the concrete floor. It holds a cup of something, and a sandwich. The hunger in the pit of my stomach rumbles at the sight, and it makes the man smile. His teeth are a brilliant white, only adding more beauty to his gorgeous face.
It’s not fair. Monsters should look like what they are.
“Eat, Grace,” he gives me the command and sits at the entrance.
It pisses me off.
I’m not an object to be given away. Starting now, I don’t take orders. All my life, that’s all I’ve done. I've been told what to do, and been beaten for disobeying.
I refuse to let him do the same to me. I’m done with that. It’s gotten me nowhere in this pathetic life.
“No,” I barely breathe the word, knowing my defiance will earn me a beating. I don’t care anymore.
He cocks a brow at me, and leaving the tray, he stands and leaves. The door closes and a moment later a beep sounds, followed by a loud click, indicating the door is locked. My heart beats faster, assuming he’s coming back with something to hurt me with. I wait for a long time, staring at the door.
Time passes, and he doesn’t return. I’m hesitant to think I’ve escaped punishment. Never has my father let a moment to beat me go wasted.
My stomach growls, and my eyes shift to the food on the tray. It’s been awhile since I’ve eaten. I don’t know what time it is, but judging from the dim light coming through the small windows, it’s late. So maybe a day?
I won’t eat it though. I won’t give him that satisfaction.
I push more of the blanket under me and behind my back to stop the thin bars from digging into my skin and hurting.
I look straight ahead and into what’s obviously a bathroom. I could leave the cage and try to find something in there to use as a weapon, but I’m terrified of leaving the safe place he gave me.
Shame consumes me. I don’t even have the balls to look for a fucking weapon. My chest tightens, and I force my frozen limbs to move. I slowly crawl from the cage, my eyes on the heavy door he exited. My heart beats so hard in my chest it hurts. I don’t want him to come back and beat me to the cage. But I have to try.
I take one step from the cage, but my fingers wrap around the bars, leashing me to it. I inhale a deep breath and let go of the bars, the thin metal slipping past my fingertips. My eyes tear away from the door and I move quickly to the tiny windows above my head.
