Reina’s POVThe room smelled like cologne and expensive liquor. Dim lights flickered overhead. Plush red carpeting, thick enough to silence footsteps. Velvet curtains draped the windows. It looked like a twisted version of a luxury suite. Like someone had tried to copy Cassian’s taste and failed in all the wrong ways.“Donna McCain,” he said, voice like velvet and poison. “I’ve been expecting you.”I gulped.He stood by a mini-bar, swirling something dark in a glass. His face was clean-shaven, but his smile? It crawled over his lips like it didn’t belong there. His teeth are too white, his eyes too wet, too hungry.“You’re… prettier than they said,” he murmured, stepping toward me. “Much prettier.”I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. I took in everything—his lazy eyes, his gold rings, the way his gaze slid from my face to my chest like I was already undressed.“Your hand,” he said, circling me now like a vulture. “Looks nasty.”“One of your men did it,” I said flatly as I rubbed it softly.
Reina's POVI stood just beyond the gate, hugging myself against the cool breeze as the guard disappeared back into the shadows.The cab I called hadn’t arrived yet. So I waited.But my mind wasn’t out here.It was back in that room. With him.That scum of a man who they call “Don Marcello.”His eyes had followed me like I was something he’d already bought and was eager to unwrap. Every word from his mouth made my skin crawl. Every touch, every breath, made me want to light a match and set that whole twisted palace on fire.And the girls.Just thinking about them, about their pain and trauma made me more angry at myself. That I couldn't help. That I'm weak and powerless.I made a mental note. As soon as I had a moment alone with my secret phone or access to any secure line—I’d inform the police. Keeping those girls against their will is still part of an illegal activity. So, they needed to raid that place. Find those girls. Save them.Even if I couldn’t save myself just yet… maybe I c
Reina's POV The weight of the silence pressed down as Mr. Harrow adjusted his glasses, pen poised over the stack of documents. “Miss Vale,” he began again, voice professional, steady, “as executor of your father’s estate, I need your decision. The proposal outlined in the will is clear. If you decline the marriage arrangement with Mr. Andrew Coleman, the entire estate—assets, properties, investments—will be transferred to him.”Lucy leaned forward with a smug gleam in her eye. Andrew sat poised, as if seconds away from tasting victory.I kept my face still. Cold. Controlled.“I’m already married,” I said.The room fell into stunned silence.Mr. Harrow’s pen froze. Lucy’s head jerked toward me, her eyes widening. Andrew blinked, expression caught between disbelief and rage.“I’m sorry?” Harrow asked, clearly thrown.“I said, I’m married,” I repeated, voice even. “Legally. Before all these. Out of state. And the last I checked, his name is not Andrew Coleman.”Lucy slammed her hands on
Reina's POV Oh god.How can he be so—dazzling. Is he the sun?I gripped the edge of the door harder than necessary. The metal felt cool under my fingertips, grounding. Because everything else in me was on fire.He smiled—and just like that, the room disappeared. No walls, no floor, no time. Just him. That lazy, boyish curve of his lips that hit somewhere between confidence and danger.“Hi,” he said, his voice smooth like silk dipped in gravel. “I just moved in next door. Saw you come in earlier... figured I’d stop by and introduce myself.”My brain short-circuited.He kept going, oblivious to the meltdown happening behind my carefully neutral face.“I’m new in town,” he added, eyes twinkling just enough to feel like a tease. “Still getting my bearings. Hope you don’t mind if I come to you for help from time to time?”Words. Right. Say something. Anything.Instead, I blinked like a deer. My mouth opened—and something not English fell out.“I’m good! I mean… nurse! No—I mean, I’m rarel
Reina’s POVReality Check, A.K.A. Total Collapse“Fuck!”The word exploded from my lips the second I saw the time.Mr. Morelli was going to kill me.I launched out of the floor like I’d been tasered, heart slamming against my ribs. I dashed to the bathroom, half-tripping on the way, and flicked on the light——and froze.Oh god.I stared at my reflection like it was a jump scare. My face looked like it had lost a wrestling match with a tornado. Hair completely wild, like someone had been fisting it in their sleep. Was that… was that drool on my chin? My eyes were swollen, heavy with sleep and regret. And what the hell was that gunk crusted in the corner?Fantastic. Just fantastic!I leaned in closer, squinting.No. No, no, no—why do my freckles look like they’ve migrated to an entirely new zipcode? Were they always that uneven?Did he see all of this?Shame coiled in my chest like a snake. No wonder he kept laughing. That hot neighbor. Roman. He probably thought I was a damn ghost—dish
Reina's POV “Oh my god…” I choked, the sound barely escaping my lips.His knuckles were split, red and raw, the dried blood cracking as he flexed his fingers. He hadn’t just ordered this violence—he participated in it. With relish.The second I heard his voice—smooth, arrogant, and soaked in bloodlust—I felt it all crashing back.“Ah,” he said, his voice like velvet dipped in venom. “Welcome home, dolcezza.”Of course, I thought bitterly. Of course I’m back to this.The grotesque image from earlier at Don Marcello’s mansion slammed into my mind like a freight train. That poor man—strung up like livestock. Limp. Broken. The other one that had his tongue cut out also like a fucking livestock.And now… this.Another broken body.Another monster perched on a throne.Birds of the same damn feather, I thought as I stared at Cassian’s bloodied knuckles, his sick smirk, the way he observed pain like it was art.They all wore suits, smoked cigars, and thought pain was poetry.My instincts ove
Cassian's POV I yanked her closer again, my voice dropping to a venom-laced rasp. “Did he breathe on you? Look at you like you were his?”Her lips trembled. “I’m not a property to be owned by anyone.”The laugh that clawed its way out of my chest wasn’t human. It cracked through the air, sharp and manic.“No?” I tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Then why do you keep coming back?”She didn't reply. Couldn't.Because we both knew why.“You hate this,” I said, dragging her fingers to the raw cut on my knuckle. “You hate me. But here you are. With trembling hands and bleeding sympathy—for a man who doesn’t even have a name in this house. While I, the devil you can’t stand, am the one holding your leash.”I pressed her palm to my chest—over my heartbeat. Let her feel the violence thudding beneath my skin.“You can never be free, Reina,” I growled. “Not out there. Not in here. You walk out that door again and come back late, I’ll make you pay. You breathe for someone else,
Cassian’s POVI stilled.Those bruises weren’t mine.Not this time.And the sight of it broke something in me.As I untied her left hand that was already chained, I kept my gaze fixed on her bruised hand.They were fresh, raw, ugly fingerprints on delicate flesh. A sick hue of blue-black blooming like rot beneath porcelain skin.My chest went still. Then… it erupted.The fury didn’t come loud. It came quiet. The kind of quiet that meant something inside me had broken. Irrevocably. The kind of quiet that always preceded the storm.I yanked her closer, examining the marks as her body stiffened.“Who did this?” I asked, low and grave.She flinched.“I said—who did this?”“I—it’s nothing. It’s no one. It was just an accident,” she whispered.My head snapped up. Her eyes were too wide, her voice too soft. A practiced tremble. A damn lie wrapped in innocence.“An accident?” I echoed, darkly amused.“I bumped into someone in the hallway. That’s all,” she said quickly. “It’s nothing deep or p
Cassian’s POVI stilled.Those bruises weren’t mine.Not this time.And the sight of it broke something in me.As I untied her left hand that was already chained, I kept my gaze fixed on her bruised hand.They were fresh, raw, ugly fingerprints on delicate flesh. A sick hue of blue-black blooming like rot beneath porcelain skin.My chest went still. Then… it erupted.The fury didn’t come loud. It came quiet. The kind of quiet that meant something inside me had broken. Irrevocably. The kind of quiet that always preceded the storm.I yanked her closer, examining the marks as her body stiffened.“Who did this?” I asked, low and grave.She flinched.“I said—who did this?”“I—it’s nothing. It’s no one. It was just an accident,” she whispered.My head snapped up. Her eyes were too wide, her voice too soft. A practiced tremble. A damn lie wrapped in innocence.“An accident?” I echoed, darkly amused.“I bumped into someone in the hallway. That’s all,” she said quickly. “It’s nothing deep or p
Cassian's POV I yanked her closer again, my voice dropping to a venom-laced rasp. “Did he breathe on you? Look at you like you were his?”Her lips trembled. “I’m not a property to be owned by anyone.”The laugh that clawed its way out of my chest wasn’t human. It cracked through the air, sharp and manic.“No?” I tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Then why do you keep coming back?”She didn't reply. Couldn't.Because we both knew why.“You hate this,” I said, dragging her fingers to the raw cut on my knuckle. “You hate me. But here you are. With trembling hands and bleeding sympathy—for a man who doesn’t even have a name in this house. While I, the devil you can’t stand, am the one holding your leash.”I pressed her palm to my chest—over my heartbeat. Let her feel the violence thudding beneath my skin.“You can never be free, Reina,” I growled. “Not out there. Not in here. You walk out that door again and come back late, I’ll make you pay. You breathe for someone else,
Reina's POV “Oh my god…” I choked, the sound barely escaping my lips.His knuckles were split, red and raw, the dried blood cracking as he flexed his fingers. He hadn’t just ordered this violence—he participated in it. With relish.The second I heard his voice—smooth, arrogant, and soaked in bloodlust—I felt it all crashing back.“Ah,” he said, his voice like velvet dipped in venom. “Welcome home, dolcezza.”Of course, I thought bitterly. Of course I’m back to this.The grotesque image from earlier at Don Marcello’s mansion slammed into my mind like a freight train. That poor man—strung up like livestock. Limp. Broken. The other one that had his tongue cut out also like a fucking livestock.And now… this.Another broken body.Another monster perched on a throne.Birds of the same damn feather, I thought as I stared at Cassian’s bloodied knuckles, his sick smirk, the way he observed pain like it was art.They all wore suits, smoked cigars, and thought pain was poetry.My instincts ove
Reina’s POVReality Check, A.K.A. Total Collapse“Fuck!”The word exploded from my lips the second I saw the time.Mr. Morelli was going to kill me.I launched out of the floor like I’d been tasered, heart slamming against my ribs. I dashed to the bathroom, half-tripping on the way, and flicked on the light——and froze.Oh god.I stared at my reflection like it was a jump scare. My face looked like it had lost a wrestling match with a tornado. Hair completely wild, like someone had been fisting it in their sleep. Was that… was that drool on my chin? My eyes were swollen, heavy with sleep and regret. And what the hell was that gunk crusted in the corner?Fantastic. Just fantastic!I leaned in closer, squinting.No. No, no, no—why do my freckles look like they’ve migrated to an entirely new zipcode? Were they always that uneven?Did he see all of this?Shame coiled in my chest like a snake. No wonder he kept laughing. That hot neighbor. Roman. He probably thought I was a damn ghost—dish
Reina's POV Oh god.How can he be so—dazzling. Is he the sun?I gripped the edge of the door harder than necessary. The metal felt cool under my fingertips, grounding. Because everything else in me was on fire.He smiled—and just like that, the room disappeared. No walls, no floor, no time. Just him. That lazy, boyish curve of his lips that hit somewhere between confidence and danger.“Hi,” he said, his voice smooth like silk dipped in gravel. “I just moved in next door. Saw you come in earlier... figured I’d stop by and introduce myself.”My brain short-circuited.He kept going, oblivious to the meltdown happening behind my carefully neutral face.“I’m new in town,” he added, eyes twinkling just enough to feel like a tease. “Still getting my bearings. Hope you don’t mind if I come to you for help from time to time?”Words. Right. Say something. Anything.Instead, I blinked like a deer. My mouth opened—and something not English fell out.“I’m good! I mean… nurse! No—I mean, I’m rarel
Reina's POV The weight of the silence pressed down as Mr. Harrow adjusted his glasses, pen poised over the stack of documents. “Miss Vale,” he began again, voice professional, steady, “as executor of your father’s estate, I need your decision. The proposal outlined in the will is clear. If you decline the marriage arrangement with Mr. Andrew Coleman, the entire estate—assets, properties, investments—will be transferred to him.”Lucy leaned forward with a smug gleam in her eye. Andrew sat poised, as if seconds away from tasting victory.I kept my face still. Cold. Controlled.“I’m already married,” I said.The room fell into stunned silence.Mr. Harrow’s pen froze. Lucy’s head jerked toward me, her eyes widening. Andrew blinked, expression caught between disbelief and rage.“I’m sorry?” Harrow asked, clearly thrown.“I said, I’m married,” I repeated, voice even. “Legally. Before all these. Out of state. And the last I checked, his name is not Andrew Coleman.”Lucy slammed her hands on
Reina's POVI stood just beyond the gate, hugging myself against the cool breeze as the guard disappeared back into the shadows.The cab I called hadn’t arrived yet. So I waited.But my mind wasn’t out here.It was back in that room. With him.That scum of a man who they call “Don Marcello.”His eyes had followed me like I was something he’d already bought and was eager to unwrap. Every word from his mouth made my skin crawl. Every touch, every breath, made me want to light a match and set that whole twisted palace on fire.And the girls.Just thinking about them, about their pain and trauma made me more angry at myself. That I couldn't help. That I'm weak and powerless.I made a mental note. As soon as I had a moment alone with my secret phone or access to any secure line—I’d inform the police. Keeping those girls against their will is still part of an illegal activity. So, they needed to raid that place. Find those girls. Save them.Even if I couldn’t save myself just yet… maybe I c
Reina’s POVThe room smelled like cologne and expensive liquor. Dim lights flickered overhead. Plush red carpeting, thick enough to silence footsteps. Velvet curtains draped the windows. It looked like a twisted version of a luxury suite. Like someone had tried to copy Cassian’s taste and failed in all the wrong ways.“Donna McCain,” he said, voice like velvet and poison. “I’ve been expecting you.”I gulped.He stood by a mini-bar, swirling something dark in a glass. His face was clean-shaven, but his smile? It crawled over his lips like it didn’t belong there. His teeth are too white, his eyes too wet, too hungry.“You’re… prettier than they said,” he murmured, stepping toward me. “Much prettier.”I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. I took in everything—his lazy eyes, his gold rings, the way his gaze slid from my face to my chest like I was already undressed.“Your hand,” he said, circling me now like a vulture. “Looks nasty.”“One of your men did it,” I said flatly as I rubbed it softly.
Reina’s POVThe cab smelled faintly of cigarettes and old leather. I sat in the back with my hoodie bundled in my arms, cradling it like armor I couldn’t wear—because Cassian had forbidden it. My skin was bare beneath a white tank top that clung like a second skin, every inch of me still burning with the ache of his touch. His voice echoed in my ears, that filthy growl whispering mine.Why did I feel so disappointed that he didn't kiss me when he said he wanted to?I shook the thought out of my head and leaned forward, giving the cab driver the address I'd memorized from the message the police sent last night. My voice was low. Tired. “It’s on the far end of Valeford Estates.”He nodded, not speaking. Good. I wasn’t in the mood to pretend today.As the cab pulled out of the city, I pulled the hoodie over my head and stared out the window, chewing on my bottom lip. I silently prayed that the man I was about to care for wasn’t like Cassian Morelli. Or worse, wasn’t worse. Someone dark