Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Into the Depths

Alexia

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the biting chill of the stone floor against my bare skin. My wrists ached from the heavy iron cuffs, and my head throbbed from the faint scent of dampness clinging to the air. A dim bulb hanging from the ceiling flickered sporadically, casting shadows that danced across the rough walls of the room.

Panic rose in my chest as the memories came flooding back—Jayden Newton, his piercing gaze, and his cruel words.

I tried to pull myself upright, but my restraints made every movement a struggle. The chains clanked, echoing ominously in the chamber, and a wave of despair washed over me. Where was I? How long had I been here?

The sound of the door creaking open drew my attention. I froze as heavy footsteps approached, each step deliberate and filled with menace. Jayden emerged from the shadows, his figure bathed in the faint light. He looked like a predator, his sharp features etched with cold determination.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

“No thanks to you,” I shot back, my voice trembling despite my attempt at defiance.

Jayden smirked, his dark eyes narrowing as he stepped closer. He carried a silver tray in his hands, and the smell of freshly baked bread and soup made my stomach growl in betrayal.

“I see you’re hungry,” he said, setting the tray on a small table just out of my reach. “But first, we need to talk.”

I clenched my fists, the cuffs biting into my skin. “We’ve already talked, Jayden. I told you—I have nothing to do with whatever you think my father did.”

His expression darkened, and he dragged a chair across the floor, the screeching sound making me flinch. He sat down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his gaze never leaving mine.

“You expect me to believe that you’re completely innocent?” he asked, his tone dripping with skepticism. “That you’ve never benefited from your father’s crimes? Never turned a blind eye to the destruction he caused?”

“I don’t even speak to him!” I snapped, the anger bubbling up despite my fear. “My father abandoned me and my mother when I was a teenager. I haven’t seen him in years.”

Jayden’s lips twitched into a grim smile. “Convenient story. But lies won’t save you here, Alexia.”

“It’s the truth,” I insisted, my voice breaking. “I don’t know where he is. I don’t know what he’s done. And I certainly don’t know why you think I’m responsible for any of it.”

For a moment, silence hung between us, heavy and suffocating. Jayden leaned back in his chair, studying me with a cold intensity that made my skin crawl.

“You have his eyes,” he said suddenly, his voice quiet but laced with venom.

I frowned, caught off guard. “What?”

“Your father,” he said, his jaw tightening. “Every time I look at you, I see him. It’s infuriating.”

“I’m not my father,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” Jayden agreed, standing and pacing the room. “You’re not. But you’re his blood. And that makes you just as guilty.”

The words hit me like a slap, and tears pricked my eyes. “You don’t know me,” I said, my voice trembling. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Jayden stopped pacing and turned to face me, his expression unreadable. “Then tell me, Alexia. Convince me you’re not the monster I think you are.”

---

Jayden

Her defiance was maddening, but it also intrigued me. Most people crumbled under my scrutiny, but Alexia held her ground, even in chains. It was infuriating—and strangely admirable.

I watched her struggle to maintain her composure, her chest rising and falling with every shaky breath. Her vulnerability should have satisfied me, but instead, it left me unsettled.

She looked so much like her father, yet there was something about her that felt… different. Innocent, even. But I couldn’t afford to let my guard down.

“You want me to convince you?” she asked, her voice breaking through my thoughts. “Fine. Ask me anything. I have nothing to hide.”

I crossed my arms, leaning against the wall. “Where is your father?”

“I don’t know,” she said, meeting my gaze head-on.

“Who does he work with?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s his connection to Don Alfredo?”

“I don’t know!” she cried, her voice rising in frustration. “I told you—I don’t have anything to do with him or his business. Why won’t you believe me?”

I pushed off the wall, closing the distance between us in a few long strides. I crouched in front of her, my face inches from hers.

“Because people like you are never innocent,” I said, my voice low and dangerous. “You may not pull the trigger, but you benefit from the blood spilled. You live comfortably while others suffer. That makes you complicit.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. “You don’t know anything about my life,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’ve worked hard for everything I have. My father abandoned us when I was sixteen. My mother died shortly after. I’ve had to fight for everything—alone.”

Her words caught me off guard, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something raw and genuine in her eyes. Pain. Loss.

I stood abruptly, turning away to regain my composure.

“You’re good,” I said, my tone mocking. “But I don’t believe in sob stories.”

She didn’t respond, and when I glanced back at her, she was staring at the floor, her shoulders slumped in defeat.

Good. She needed to break.

---

Alexia

Jayden’s words cut deep, but I refused to let him see how much they hurt. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Are you done?” I asked, my voice hollow.

He turned to face me, his expression unreadable. “For now.”

He grabbed the tray of food and set it down in front of me. “Eat,” he said, his tone sharp.

I stared at the food, my stomach twisting in hunger and indignation. “Why? So you can take it away again?”

Jayden smirked. “Lesson two: I can be merciful. When it suits me.”

I hesitated, but my hunger won out. As I reached for the bread, Jayden crouched beside me, watching me intently.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” he said, his voice a low growl. “This is just the beginning.”

The threat in his words sent a shiver down my spine, but I kept my focus on the food. I couldn’t let him win—not like this.

As I ate, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was more than a game to Jayden. There was something dark and personal driving him—a pain he refused to acknowledge.

And somehow, I was caught in the middle of it.