Chapter 2: Bound by a Bargain

Isla

“I am not going with you.” I couldn't sleep throughout the night as my fear increased.

I felt he wasn't going to show up but the fear inside me grew when I saw him standing at my doorstep. His impression is grim as death.

The silence stretched between us like a taut string, ready to snap at any moment. My pulse pounded in my ears as Dante’s words rang out again, clear and sharp: “You, or your father dies.”

I stood there, rooted to the spot, my body trembling under the weight of his ultimatum. My father, broken and pathetic, lay crumpled on the floor, barely able to lift his head. He didn’t plead this time—maybe he knew it wouldn’t make a difference. His life was in my hands now, and I hated him for it.

Dante watched me with an unreadable expression, arms crossed over his chest, his dark eyes boring into me like he could see right through my skin to the fear twisting inside. There was no warmth in those eyes, just the cold certainty of someone who always got what he wanted. And now, what he wanted was me.

“I...” My voice faltered, the words sticking in my throat. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to fight, to do something—anything—but what choice did I really have?

I could hear my father’s ragged breathing, smell the stale alcohol on his breath, and feel the suffocating weight of responsibility crushing my chest. He had done this. He had gambled with our lives, and now it was up to me to fix it. Again.

“You’re giving me no choice,” I whispered, hating how weak my voice sounded.

Dante tilted his head slightly, a cold smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No, Isla, I’m giving you a way out. Your father’s fate is in your hands.”

I clenched my fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms. The anger was there, simmering just beneath the surface, but it wasn’t enough to burn through the fear.

“What happens to him if I... agree?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Dante stepped closer, his presence like a shadow swallowing the light. He was so calm, so certain of his control. “He’ll live,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “For now.”

“For now?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, but the icy dread that curled in my stomach told me I knew exactly what he meant.

“His life will depend on your cooperation,” Dante said, his tone so matter-of-fact it made my blood run cold. “You do as I say, and he stays alive. It’s as simple as that.”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. There was no way out. Not for me, not for my father. Dante had us trapped, and he knew it.

I glanced down at my father one last time. He didn’t look at me. Couldn’t. Shame, guilt, or maybe just the weight of everything he’d done—whatever it was, it didn’t matter anymore.

“I’ll go with you,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. The words felt like a death sentence, final and inescapable. But I couldn’t let my father die, no matter how much I resented him for putting me in this position.

Dante’s smirk deepened, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. He knew he had won. “Good.”

I turned away from my father, feeling the sting of tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. I wouldn’t cry. Not in front of him. Not in front of Dante. I wouldn’t give either of them that satisfaction.

Dante reached out, his hand brushing my arm. The touch was light, but it sent a shiver down my spine. “Come,” he said, his voice low, commanding. “It’s time to go.”

I nodded, barely trusting myself to speak, and followed him out the door. My feet felt heavy, like I was walking toward my own execution.

***

The night air was cold against my skin as we stepped out into the street, the dim glow of the streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. Dante’s black car waited at the curb, sleek and intimidating, just like him.

The driver, a tall, silent man with a grim expression, opened the back door, and I hesitated for a fraction of a second. This was it. Once I got into that car, my life would never be the same.

Dante’s hand rested lightly on my lower back, guiding me forward with a gentle but unmistakable force. “Don’t keep me waiting, Isla,” he murmured, the threat in his voice unmistakable.

I stepped inside, sliding across the leather seat, my heart pounding in my chest. The door closed behind me with a solid thud, sealing me in. A moment later, Dante slid in beside me, his presence filling the small space like a storm cloud about to break.

As the car pulled away from the curb, I stared out the window, watching the city blur by in a haze of streetlights and shadows. The world outside felt distant, like I was watching it from behind a glass wall. My freedom, my future—it was all slipping away, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Dante didn’t speak, but I could feel his eyes on me, studying me, assessing me. I didn’t dare look at him. My hands were clenched in my lap, my knuckles white from the force of it. I couldn’t let him see how scared I was, even though I knew he already did.

“What happens now?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, the question slipping out before I could stop it.

Dante leaned back in his seat, his gaze never leaving me. “Now, you belong to me,” he said, his tone casual, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “You’ll do as I say, when I say it. You’ll follow my rules.”

I turned to face him then, my anger flaring up despite the fear. “I’m not your property.”

His eyes flashed with something dark and dangerous, and for a moment, I thought I’d gone too far. But instead of lashing out, he smiled, slow and menacing. “Not yet,” he said softly. “But you will be.”

I felt a wave of nausea roll through me, and I turned back to the window, focusing on the blur of lights and buildings passing by. I couldn’t let him get under my skin. I couldn’t let him win.

But deep down, I knew that he already had.

---

The ride felt endless, the tension in the car thick enough to choke on. I kept my eyes fixed on the window, refusing to let Dante see the turmoil raging inside me. My mind raced, cycling through everything that had happened in the last hour—my father’s pathetic pleas, Dante’s cold, unrelenting control, and the terrifying reality of what my life had just become.

I wanted to scream, to cry, to fight, but none of it would change a thing. I was trapped, bound by a bargain I never agreed to. My father’s debt had become my prison, and Dante Moretti held the key.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the car pulled through the gates of a sprawling estate. Dante’s mansion loomed ahead, its dark silhouette lit by soft, golden lights. It was massive, luxurious, and completely suffocating.

As we drove up the long, winding driveway, my heart sank lower with every passing second. This was where I’d live now. Under Dante’s control, in his world. A world I wanted no part of.

The car came to a stop, and the driver opened the door. I hesitated, the weight of reality pressing down on me, before stepping out onto the gravel driveway. The mansion towered above me, cold and imposing, like a gilded cage.

Dante stepped out beside me, his presence suffocating. He turned to me, his eyes gleaming with that same dangerous satisfaction that made my skin crawl.

“Welcome to your new home,” he said, his voice dripping with control. “You belong to me now. Don’t forget that.”

I swallowed hard, fighting to keep my composure as the truth of his words settled deep in my bones.

I was his.