The reason he was marrying Sienna before me? Because I have a mouth on me. I’ve always questioned him, pushed back when the others stayed quiet. He hates it. He used to threaten me constantly and said one day he’d give me to a man who would “bring me to submission.”
I always believed him. I knew he’d punish me by marrying me off to one of the most brutal men in his circle, someone who would break me the way he broke Mama.
All my life, I’ve either been used as leverage or have been waiting to be used.
I used to dream about escaping it all, running away, disappearing, finding a life where I wasn’t someone’s bargaining chip. But deep down, I knew it was only a fantasy. Girls like me don’t get happy endings.
And now I’ve been captured by another dangerous man who’s using me as leverage once again. I should hate him. I should be plotting his death every waking second.
Instead, I’m sitting here thinking about his hands on my body. The way he grabbed me. The sharp sting of his palm on my ass. The heat of his breath against my ear. The way my body lit up like it had been waiting for him.
I press my forehead against my knees and let out a shaky breath. I need to get out of this place.
A sharp knock sounds on the bedroom door.
I stand up, heart jumping, and walk back into the bedroom. Daniel opens the door and steps inside.
“The boss has given permission for you to leave the house,” he says flatly. “You can move around the property.”
A rush of relief floods through me. “Thank God for small mercies, I guess.”
I follow him downstairs and out the front doors. I need to move and get my mind busy, before I drive myself crazy thinking about the man I should hate.
Because right now, the only thing I can think about is how much I want his hands back on my body… and how terrifying that is.
The moment the fresh air hits my skin, I feel like I can finally breathe again. I’d been slowly losing my mind being trapped inside.
We walk along the wide stone paths that wind through the estate. The grounds are even more beautiful up close. Manicured lawns, blooming rose bushes, tall oak trees casting long shadows in the late afternoon sun.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” I ask Daniel, glancing over my shoulder.
He doesn’t reply.
“Where’s Nico?” I try again.
“Training with some of the men.”
That catches my attention. “Training?”
Daniel nods once but offers nothing more.
We keep walking, and soon I hear the sound of grunting, fists hitting flesh, and low voices. We round a corner and the training area comes into view, an open, grass-covered courtyard surrounded by trees, with heavy punching bags and mats laid out.
And there he is.
Nico is shirtless in the middle of the ring, circling one of his men. His body is glistening with sweat, every muscle sharply defined under the sunlight. The dark tattoos across his chest and back seem to shift and move as he strikes.
Each punch lands with brutal precision. His abs flex, his shoulders roll, and the low-slung workout shorts hang dangerously on his hips.
I stop walking. I can’t look away.
He throws a combination, then grabs the man and flips him hard onto the mat. The move is so smooth, so dominant, that heat flares low in my belly. My thighs press together instinctively. I remember exactly how those hands felt on me, gripping my waist, spanking my ass, pressing against my throat. I imagine them doing much worse… much better things.
His head snaps up, and his eyes lock directly onto mine across the courtyard. The intensity in that gaze hits me like a physical blow. My breath catches.
For a long, charged second, the entire world narrows to just us. His chest rises and falls heavily. Sweat drips down the deep grooves of his abs. He looks feral. Dangerous. And so fucking hot I can barely stand still.
He barks an order at his men without breaking eye contact with me. “Leave.”
