Chapter 3: This isn’t my life. This can’t be real

“This isn’t my life. This can’t be real” these were the only words coming out of my mouth. I stared at the ceiling only to see the sun's rays cast into my room.

“Shit it’s morning!” I’ve been up the whole night and hadn’t realized that.

I sat on my bed, running my palms over my face, trying to make sense of everything. As I turned, my eyes landed on a dress, sparkling jewelry, designer bags, and a note lying beside me. In bold, commanding letters, it read: "a stylist would be with you in an hour, try not to be an animal and cooperate with her”

It was Jayden obviously, he would be the only monster that could talk to me so disrespectfully.

“Fool!” I muttered as I left for the bathroom.

————-

“Who is this? I don’t look like me, this can’t be the life I’d have to live now” I said endlessly in my mind as I stood before a gilded mirror in a room that felt more like a luxury prison.

The woman staring back at me wasn’t me. She wore designer clothes I hadn’t chosen, makeup I didn’t apply, and a hollow expression that made her look like a doll, fragile and lifeless.  

I gripped the edge of the dresser, trying to keep my breathing steady. I didn’t belong to myself anymore. I belonged to “them”.  

A sharp knock on the door startled me, and I turned to see a young maid standing in the doorway.  

“Mr. Invanto is expecting you downstairs,” she said softly, her eyes avoiding mine.  

I wanted to tell her to go to hell. I wanted to scream and break every piece of polished furniture in this room. Instead, I nodded stiffly and followed her out.  

---

Breakfast was served in the luxurious dining room, the table laid with a sheet fit for royalty. Jayden sat at the head, his dark eyes locking on me as I entered.  

“You’re late,” he said, his tone smooth

.  

I ignored him and took a seat at the far end of the table.  

“Bold choice,” he said with a smirk, leaning back in his chair. “But you’ll sit here.” He gestured to the chair to his right.  

I stayed where I was, my fork stabbing at a croissant.  

Jayden watched me for a moment before rising from his seat. The sound of his chair scraping against the floor made my stomach twist. He walked around the table slowly, stopping behind me.  

“I don’t repeat myself, Ava,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous.  

My hand clenched the fork tightly, but I stood and walked to the chair he wanted. The victory in his smile made my skin itch.  

“You’ll learn,” he said, returning to his seat.  

---

I spent most of the day trapped in Jayden’s shadow, his hand constantly guiding me as we moved through his world.  

A shopping trip was the latest charade, an excuse for him to parade me around like a trophy. The boutique was dripping with wealth, every surface gleaming with luxury.

Jayden stood by the counter, scrolling on his phone as I checked through racks of clothing I didn’t want.  

I caught my reflection in a mirror and had to look away. This was all so wrong.  

“Looking for a way out?” a voice murmured behind me.  

I froze. Turning, I saw a man in a perfectly tailored suit examining a rack of dresses. His face was sharp, his eyes calculating.  

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said stiffly.  

The man smiled faintly. “Yes, you do. I know who you are, Ava Bennett, and I know you want a way out of this slavery.”  

I glanced toward Jayden, who was still engrossed in his phone.  

“Keep your voice down,” I hissed.  

The man chuckled softly, slipping a card into my hand. “You don’t belong in this world, but I can help you. Bring him down, and you’ll get your freedom and revenge.”  

My heart pounded as I stared at the card. A simple black rectangle with an email and a phone number.  

Before I could respond, the man was gone, leaving me alone.  

---

That night, I lay awake on my bed, the card clutched in my hand.  

Freedom. Revenge. These words echoed in my mind, but so did the fear. Jayden wasn’t just dangerous; he was lethal. Crossing him felt like suicide.  

But staying here is like a slow death.  

After much thought, I finally decided that I would gather information for the Castro Vanganzo group. Just to get back at Jayden.

---

The next few days passed, I played my part as Jayden’s dutiful fiancée, but my mind was elsewhere. Conversations with the Castro operative revealed the Invanto mafia’s bloody history. How they wiped out families, destroyed businesses and anyone who opposed them without a trace.  

Jayden had perfected his presence of charm and control, but I saw the cracks. The casual way he issued orders, the impatience when things didn’t go his way. He wasn’t invincible, and that knowledge motivated me more.  

Late one night, after the mansion had fallen silent, I crept out of my room. The halls were dark and creepy.

Jayden’s office was at the end of the west wing, the door slightly ajar. I slipped inside, the faint scent of leather and expensive cologne filled the air.  

The room was immaculate—dark wood furniture, shelves lined with books, and a massive desk that dominated the space. I moved quickly, rifling through papers and drawers, careful not to disturb anything too noticeably.  

A locked drawer caught my attention. I tried opening it but it wouldn’t budge.  

Before I could think of a solution, a voice sliced through the air like a blade.  

“Looking for something, Ava?”  

I spun around, my heart already in my mouth. Jayden stood in the doorway, his silhouette imposing against the dim light.  

His smirk was cold and knowing.  

“I warned you about playing games,” he said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.