CHAPTER 1
~5years later~
Ariana's POV
“Eat the fuck up!”he barked.
I flinched, my whole body jerking from the roar.My eyes shot left — one of the guards was standing by the bed, a plate in one hand, a glass of water in the other.His expression was cold, the kind of blank that comes from years of obeying orders without thinking.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry as sandpaper.My eyes stayed on the water.That was the only thing in the room that looked remotely safe.
Another day had passed.Nothing had changed.Nothing ever did.I’d stopped counting the days a long time ago — it had been five years, maybe more.Five years locked in this room.His room.Our room.The walls were mine as much as they were my prison.
I wasn’t allowed to leave without permission.And if I ever thought about running, I remembered exactly what he was capable of.I’d imagined killing him a thousand times — sneaking up while he slept, wrapping my hands around his throat until he stopped moving — but I never did it.I didn’t have the courage.If I failed, I’d be dead before I could blink.
Whenever he came in, the air changed.He filled the room with his presence — sharp, commanding, dangerous.I always tried to stay quiet, to fade into the background, but it never worked.He saw everything.He liked watching me squirm.He liked reminding me of what he’d done, what he could do again.
The guard moved closer, circling the bed like a dog marking territory.I froze as he leaned over, shoved the glass toward me.I took it with shaking hands.The plate hit the wooden table beside me with a loud clatter that made me flinch again.
“I want everything eaten on this plate.If it’s not, ya klyanus’ bogom, ya ub’yu tebya sam!”he muttered in a thick, foreign accent, the words heavy and ugly.I didn’t understand what he said, but I knew enough to know it wasn’t friendly.His tone said don’t test me.
He rubbed his chin, glaring down at me like I was wasting his time.I moved slow — too slow, apparently — but I didn’t care.None of them scared me the way he did.Not anymore.
I reached for the plate, hands trembling.Every small movement hurt — my arms, my ribs, my back.I bit my tongue and tried to ignore it.On the plate sat a sandwich, a yogurt, and a few slices of fruit.It looked disgusting.I had no appetite.
I was just about to pick up the sandwich when the door swung open.
And there he was.
Nicola Luciano.
The man I was forced to call my fiancé.The man I hated more than anything else on this earth.
He leaned on the doorframe like he owned the air in the room, arms folded, eyes full of that same smug, twisted satisfaction.The look alone made my stomach turn.
Nicola Luciano — my father’s handpicked replacement for the man he’d murdered.
After Alessandro’s death, my father introduced Nicola as my fiancé.“In no time,” he said, “Nicola shall be properly betrothed to my Ariana.”
Those words still lived in my head like a curse.I didn’t get to say no.I didn’t get to say anything.
At first, I thought Nicola was different.He’d spoken softly, smiled like a gentleman.But that was just the mask.Underneath it, he was worse than my father — cruel in ways that left no marks but never let you heal.I’d been promised to him since I was thirteen.I didn’t even know it until it was too late.
Now, he was standing there in front of me — white shirt splattered with fresh blood.His sleeves rolled up, gun still in his hand.
I froze.My breath caught.
Tears pricked my eyes before I could stop them.I didn’t need to ask whose blood it was.I already knew.Nicola didn’t kill for money or power anymore.He killed because he could.Because he liked it.Because it reminded me who owned me.
