CHAPTER 2

The soft texture below my skin was a stark contrast to the cold floor in the dungeon. I stirred on it, thinking it was a dream. Then it hit me. The auction.

My vision blurred as I tried to adjust my eyes to the lighting of where I was. My head throbbed like someone had hammered nails into my skull and my throat was dry. Whatever they had injected into my body left my body weak and my muscles aching.

I rubbed my temples with trembling fingers, hoping the pain would subside. It didn’t. My eyes darted around the room—a bedroom, spotless and minimal, with a neatly separated bathroom and a dim bulb overhead casting my shadow on the walls.

On the table was a tray with a covered plate, likely holding food.

This was miles apart from the dungeon. But that didn’t matter. None of it mattered. I needed to leave. Now!

I spotted a drawn curtain that I could assume was……. A window.

My heart quickened. I pushed myself off the bed, my legs trembling as I half-staggered, half-ran toward it.

Pulling back the curtains, what I saw made my little hope shatter. It was locked. Not the kind of lock you could jimmy open with a hairpin, either. My stomach sank as I noticed the small, embedded sensor. If I tried to force it, alarms would go off. Outside the glass, a tall wall loomed, making it clear just how hopeless my situation was.

My fingers clenched into fists, tangling in my hair as I sank to the floor. The urge to cry swelled in my chest, but I shoved it down. No. My father didn’t raise me to break so easily.

But how did I get here? Italy? That was clear from the accents I heard during the auction, but something wasn't right, my captor's accent seemed to be more…. More American. “Where the hell am I?” I muttered quietly.

How long have I been knocked out? And why would Kirill sell me? He could’ve killed me and been done with it. What was the point of this? None of it made sense. I need to leave, I need to get back what is rightfully mine, Kirill selling me off is out of it because, from his look that day, he wanted to kill me.

My stomach growled loudly, reminding me I hadn’t eaten in days. With a groan, I forced myself to stand, swaying slightly as the room spun.

First things first, I needed to eat. There was no way I was going to deny whatever was under that plate unless it tried to crawl away. Once I have eaten, I’ll head to the bathroom to clean up. After days in that filthy dungeon, I smelled like a mix of despair and filth. Judging by the state I was in, my reflection would probably scare small children.

After I devoured the food like a half-starved animal, I made my way to the bathroom. Then it hit me—I had nothing to change to. I walked back to the bedroom, searching desperately for any clothing.

After turning the room upside down, I found nothing. That’s when my eyes fell on the bedsheet.

“Not a bad idea,” I shrugged, yanking it off the bed.

The warm water cascaded down my skin, and for the first time in days, I felt so relieved. But when I looked in the mirror afterward, I froze.

A streak of white ran through my hair, standing out against the dark strands. My gaze dropped to my face, where a mole sat beside my nose.

“What the hell…?” I whispered.

The mole felt foreign like it had been stuck there. I pressed at it, ignoring the sting as I peeled it off.

I felt the urge to snip away the white strands of hair, but the fear of ruining the rest of it held me back.

After I was done, I styled the bedsheet like a Sarong gown. There wasn’t time for fear.

I stormed to the door, yanking at the handle. Of course, I knew it was locked, I only wanted to let these bastards know I was awake. My pulse thundered as I banged on the door, “I’m awake! You hear me? Let me out, you bastards!”

Footsteps echoed on the other side. My heart raced as I took a few steps back, bracing myself. The door clicked open.

A man stepped in, and with his presence and the dark aura he emitted, I knew instantly he wasn’t just a lackey. He was the boss. The Don.

Breathe, Alzna. Breathe. Don’t let him see you’re scared of him.

“Listen,” I began, my voice trembling slightly despite my effort to sound steady. “I’m not this Catalina De Rosta or whoever you think I am. My name is Alzna. You’ve got the wrong person, okay? Let me go and you guys should find the real Catarina before you waste any more of your time.”

He didn’t blink. His gaze was cold, the kind of look that made my skin prickle. It was as if he was deciding whether I was worth keeping alive.

“Do I look stupid to you? Do you think I don't know you’re not Catalina?” He leaned back against the wall and shoved his hand into his pocket.

My eyes widened in surprise. “Good, now I can go,” I replied, walking toward the door.

He stretched out his arm blocking the doorway and glanced at me with cold, icy, emotionless eyes, “Five hundred million euros. That’s what I paid. And you?” He leaned forward, which made me step back. “You’re going to play Catalina De Rossi until I get what I want and when I’m done with you… I’ll discard you like the counterfeit you are.” He replied in a soothing-dangerous tone that made me feel queasy inside and from the way he sounded and how he stared at me, I knew he was DEAD serious.

The word “discard you” echoed in my ear.

For people like him, “discard” was another way of saying “kill”. I will never let that happen, NEVER!

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stand taller even as my knees threatened to give out. “I don't care how much you paid, you don't own me.”

He took a step toward me, and I instinctively stepped back. My heart raced as I continued retreating, he kept on approaching me until I was trapped against a wall.

“If living matters to you,” he said, his voice low and lethal, “you’ll shut your mouth and obey. No questions. No mistakes.”

My gaze flickered downward, and I saw the faint curve of a gun holstered at his side.

My hands trembled, but I forced myself to stay composed. I wasn't going to make him use my fear against me.

His gaze lingered on me, slow and deliberate, dragging over every inch of my body with a hunger that made my stomach twist. When his eyes dropped to my chest, they burned with raw, unapologetic lust, like he was undressing me with his mind. My skin prickled with disgust as I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him.

“Don’t look at me like that!” I spat.

He didn't listen, instead he leaned in closer. Too close. I could feel his breath on my skin.

I have to get out of here, he is going to sexually abuse me and definitely kill me. DO SOMETHING ALZNA! DO SOMETHING!!

Desperation took over. My eyes darted to the bedside lamp. Without thinking, I grabbed it and swung with all my strength.

The lamp shattered against his head, and he staggered back.

I didn’t hesitate, I swung again, hitting the same spot. This time, he crumpled to the ground. My hands shook as I grabbed his gun and bolted out the door.

After going through multiple corners, the sight of the staircase leading down the foyer came into view, and so did the front door. Freedom. I almost screamed out of happiness as I scurried down the stairs.

My bare feet slapped against the cold steps, and I nearly tripped as the makeshift bedsheet tangled around my feet.

I reached the main door and grabbed the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Locked.

Footsteps thundered behind me. I spun around and saw his henchmen rushing down the stairs with their weapons drawn.

“Damn it!” I hissed.

“Stay back,” I warned sternly, pointing the gun towards them. “Don’t think I don’t know how to use this. One step closer, and I’ll shoot, I swear to fucking god!”

The guards hesitated, exchanging glances.

“Drop your weapons!” I shouted, to make my point. I pointed the barrel at my head. “Or I swear, I’ll pull this trigger!” I wasn't stupid to kill myself. I just wanted them to drop their guns and ask them to open the damn door.

Just when I thought they had obeyed me, the devil came outside. Blood trickled down his temples as he descended the stairs.

He yelled at them in Italian.

“Speak English you fucking psychopath!” I yelled.

His henchmen moved towards me, ignoring my trembling hand.

“I will shoot, I swear!” I aimed at the nearest guard and pulled the trigger.

Click.

Nothing.

The gun was empty.

FUCK!!!!!