- 2 -

A U R O R A

17 years old, past

"I will fight you."

"That's what I thought." Viktor smiled eerily, taking his leather jacket off and the injured man hobbled towards him quickly to hold it.

"This should be fun." Dominic flashed a smile at his brother, communicating without words and walked back towards the other corner, propping himself against the dirty, bloodstained wall.

Viktor took a step forward and stood with his hands tucked inside the pockets, exuding confidence that was no match to mine. The sliver of danger glinted brightly in his blue eyes. Pride and arrogance were rippling off him so fiercely that it almost paled me.

What made me so insanely greedy to live a little that I agreed to play right into the hands of a wolf? I thought that's what stupid people called 'hope'. And right now I was stupidly hoping for a miracle.

Drawing in a painfully deep breath, I steeled my nerves and made one last attempt to save my life. The fingers clasped the knife so hard I could bet the knuckles went white. I dashed forward with my arm reared back and lunged at him. He dodged my jab with effortlessly and stepped sideways.

Like it was nothing to him.

"Try harder if you want to live," he mocked, pumping up my adrenaline.

Exhaling, I flung myself at him once again with every force I could muster, frantically expecting to inflict a scratch so that I could bargain my life. But this time he grabbed my blade with ease, twisted it hard and as a result, it slipped away from my hold. I landed hard on my ass with a thud.

"Nineteen seconds," Dominic called out from across the room.

"Nineteen seconds," Viktor echoed looking at me. "That's how long you lasted." A very polite way of saying I failed.

"What...now?" I gritted, panting and wheezing. I wanted to cry, scream and yell at my vulnerability. The uncertainty of the moment whether I would live or die churned out every last bit of bravery I concealed so hard. I wondered how long I would have to fight to remain alive in my goddamned life.

"She said she's hungry," Dominic told his brother, coming beside him.

He said it so casually, as if we were having a simple, normal conversation. Like my life wasn't on the line and I could be bothered about being starved. Despite being famished, food was the least of my concern.

"Get her something to eat then. And some fresh clothes, too," he said waving his hand at me. "And keep her hands tied and if she bothers too much, knock her out."

My eyes widened as true fear crawled at my veins. "If are going to kill me...just do it. Don't..."

"We don't rape and kill little girls," he said as if reading my mind. This man had some sort of intellectual superpower. "Hell, we don't rape anyone. Relax, Aurora. Just cooperate with us and do what Dominic tells you to do. You won't be harmed."

A weaker part of my brain wanted to believe him, the logical part didn't agree to it.

"So you will let me go after that?" A girl could hope.

Viktor chuckled and exchanged a knowing look with his brother and then met my gaze. "No."

With that, he simply walked out leaving me alone with Dominic. He came closer, offering his hand. "Get up!" he grouched, and then muttered to himself, "You're becoming a headache every minute."

I looked at his offered hand for a second. I didn't know whether I would live to see the next day or not but at least I would be alive for the next hour. And in that time frame, I could plan an escape. So playing the obedient captive seemed to be the smartest move—for now.

Dominic sighed irritably. "Look, I don't have time to babysit you all day. GET UP!"

Snickering, I took his hands, only because my legs were frozen and numb, my knees were bruised and exhaustion was making me lightheaded. When I was on my feet, he gripped me by the arm like I was some kind of an errant child and led me through at least three-four iron-clad doors, a hallway until we entered a small room.

A clean, single bed was situated at the right side of the room with a small beanie bag beside it while the left side had a bathroom. That's it—no windows or escape route.

"Take a shower," Dominic instructed, pointing to the bathroom. "I will send in some clothes." He turned to leave without waiting for a response but stopped midway. "And yes, you'd remain safe as long as you don't do anything stupid. I think you're smart to understand that. Viktor doesn't give second chances and he isn't a man you want to mess with."

The door closed behind him with a thud and I plopped myself down on the bed.

'You'd remain safe as long as you don't do anything stupid'.

Threat and safety were so intricately laced in that sentence I didn't know what to make of it. But every thought obliterated from my mind as my body sank into the softest mattress I had ever felt in years.

I almost forgot how it felt to sleep like a baby at night. I don't even remember the last time I had slept without being anxious about being raped, killed or kidnapped.

Whenever I was home, every night I would wake up to the sound of my father beating my mother. At the detention facility, I dreaded every moment they would push me inside a room and get my body 'checked' by the doctors as if the sleazy guards weren't good enough. After I fled from there, I kept fleeing from one homeless shelter to the other to prevent the risk of being hauled by law enforcement. After all, I was a fugitive.

I pulled in the blanket closer to my chest and snuggled to feel some kind of warmth and rested my head against the pillow. It probably would have taken seconds before my eyes closed and I drifted off, the shower long forgotten.

**

As I roused from the heavy unintentional slumber, I was first aware of the sharp stinging sensation on my knees. My eyes flew open as I jolted up on the bed. A middle-aged woman, sitting at the end of the bed, flashed a warming smile and gazed up.

"There, there now. Dominic just told me to clean the wounds. It may get infected later," she informed and resumed back to cleaning the bruises with the wet wipes.

I grimaced. "It stings..."

"Good, you're up," another voice announced as I snapped my head to the right side.

A boy, almost of my age, rested on the beanie bag occupied with his phone.

"Who are you?" I blurted out groggily. I was tired of unknown voices and faces by now.

He looked up and instantly I recognized the blue eyes and brown hair—same as Viktor and Dominic's. Another brother?

"That's Stefan," the woman answered for him while he merely smirked.

I made a mental note: smirking, blue eyes and dark hair were the common features to this army of brothers. I wondered how many siblings they had.

"All done," the woman announced gleefully. "I don't think the bandage is required. It is better to let it air dry."

Before I could nod or even thank her for the kindness—something I had never received for the longest time—my stomach rumbled like a clap of thunder.

"Oh dear, when was the last time you ate?" She didn't wait for my reply and pushed a plate of food in my hand. "Viktor did tell me that you were hungry. Hurry up now, finish up everything on the plate."

"Er...thanks?"

"You're a sweet child. Viktor wants to see you after this. I would leave now but Stefan here," he pointed to the boy who was still playing on his phone, "will take you to him. Alright?"

My mouth was already stuffed with so much food that I could only nod.

"Thank you, Mrs. Jones," the boy, whose name was supposedly Stefan, regarded her as she walked out of the room with a graceful stride, the medicinal kit in her hand.

His gaze returned to mine. "My brother doesn't like to wait. You'd better hurry up."

"He can wait for some time," I muttered with my mouth half-full, scowling at him.

If I was going to die, I would rather die with a full stomach and a clean shower I decided.

Stefan gave a little laugh. "You really don't know who is he, do you?"

"Gang leader?" I shrugged with a mouthful of vegetables.

This time he laughed as if I cracked some hilarious joke and shook his head. He picked up the t-shirt hoodie and track pants and dropped it on the bed.

"These should fit you. Are you done eating?"

"Yes," I answered. Placing the plate down on the bed, I stood up and grabbed the clothes. "I need a quick shower. I smell like shit. Give me ten minutes."

Once I was done and emerged from the bathroom–showered and freshly clothed–Stefan was still perched on the same spot. Without a word, he stood up and handed me a black silk cloth. "On your eyes."

"Seriously?"

"Either you do it or I call the guards stationed outside your door."

"Let me guess—that devil Viktor's orders?" I scowled.

"Yes. And right now that devil has asked for you. Do you really have a death wish that you're willing to make him wait?"

"Apparently, I do," I muttered to myself. Grabbing the blindfold, I put it on and tied behind my head.

Stefan took my hand and led me out of the room. I had no idea where I was being taken to except a rich, leathery and woody musk filled my nasal senses. It didn't make any sense until I heard a door being opened and closed as the blindfold was yanked away from my eyes. The light around the room blinded me for a couple of seconds as I adjusted my vision.

The room was huge, luxurious and one of the most sophisticated places I had ever stepped inside. A couch was placed at one corner while the other had a mini bar. The center was occupied with a rich, mahogany office desk. Across the desk was a huge flat screen TV, about 90 inches in size. Everything in the room screamed royalty—something you'd only see in movies or luxury home magazines. Unless someone was a millionaire, owning this place was impossible.

"It took you five hours to eat, shower and get dressed?" Viktor's voice snapped me out of my musings.

It was then I realized his presence in the room. He was no longer wearing his leather jacket and dark jeans but a grey, suede three-piece suit. From head to toe, he was immaculately dressed as some rich businessman from the James Bond movies.

"Um...I was...I fell asleep," I stammered. But he already knew that; what was the point of asking me?

He regarded me with the same deadpan expression where I couldn't figure out whether he wanted to kill me or offer me food.

"Sit," Viktor ordered, pointing towards the chair near the desk and across him.

Stefan nudged a finger at the small of my back when I was still contemplating what to do. The roller coaster of events for the past few hours was so exhilarating that it almost damaged my ability to think quickly or act spontaneously. At one time, it was my specialty. Against my better judgment, I plopped myself down on the chair.

"I am leaving for the club. Tell mom I will be home late," Stefan informed Viktor.

"Stefan," Viktor called out when he almost reached the door. "Take the guards or Christian with you."

"Viktor, for God's sake—"

"I wasn't asking, Stefan," he snapped.

"Fine."

When the door shut, his attention shifted back to mine. "Since you slept well, I am guessing your head's clear for what you are going to look at and whatever I am going to tell you." Without preamble, he slid a file to my side and ordered, "Open it."

Unsure of what to make of his words, I opened the file and saw a picture of a man along with every possible detail about him and his family. It didn't take me even a second to recognize the picture. It was the same man, of the two, who tried to rape me at the detention facility. I did manage to kill one of them while injuring the other as I escaped from the door that night. Mason Jones. I wouldn't ever forget the name or the face—ever.

"He was one of the two, isn't it?" Viktor asked.

How on earth did he know so much? More importantly, was he a part of law enforcement? Was he going to send me back there?

The fear left a bitter taste of anxiousness in my mouth. "How do you know?" I asked, my voice was small and terrified.

Viktor, being the mind-reader he was, quickly shook his head. "I am not going to send you back there. You can be actually useful to me outside the detention facility than inside. What I am going to do is offer you a deal."

A deal with the devil? My mind was still spinning. "What kind of a deal?"

"I want you to work for me. You are good with a blade, right? I will send you to someone who would train you how to fight, how to wield a knife, how to shoot a gun and most importantly, how to kill."

"I am not a murderer!" I almost screamed, standing up.

"SIT THE HELL DOWN!" he yelled.

"Fuck this!" I pushed back the file and turned to leave.

He stomped around the table so fast, grabbed my shoulders and shoved me back on the chair. In no time, his blue eyes narrowed on me and a hand gripped my throat. "Aurora...," he closed his eyes and exhaled for a second. "I am not the man with whom you want to play your stupid, childish games. It will take me one little snap to break your delicate neck, so I suggest you don't push your luck any further. You have a lot more to lose than I do."

He let go my throat and stood up straighter. It was a stalemate situation for me and he had me right where he wanted. His power was much greater, much dangerous and yet he was offering me something too good to be true.

I drew in a couple of shaky breath and glanced up. "I don't even know who you are and you are asking me to kill for you?"

"My name's Viktor Romano and believe me, the fact you didn't know about me up until now worked in your favour. And I am not asking you—I am telling you what you have to do for me. I don't do negotiations. I can only give you your choices, rest is up to you. "

He went back to perch on the same chair he was before. "You work for me and you can have your vengeance plus no running from the law enforcement."

"My vengeance? I don't understand."

He nodded and plucked out the picture of Mason Jones from the file and slid towards me. "The first assignment would be him. Torture him, maim him, kill him—do whatever you want for trying to rape you, but ONLY after you are done with your training."

I was well rested and well-fed but his words made me completely dizzy, clueless, scared and confused. "I don't know. I..."

"Aurora, look at me. Do you want to go back to the streets, unsafe and wish to starve? I don't think so. You work for me and no one would put a finger on your dignity. I'd provide you with every kind of security you require."

"What kind of training?"

"Both physical and educational. I know someone who'd be the perfect guy to teach you how to fight. So tell me: do you want to remain the damsel in distress or you want to fight own battles?"

I had been fighting my own battles ever since I was a 14-year-old. Sometimes, I got lucky and managed to save myself and other times, I didn't. And what he was offering me was more lucrative than a bag of diamonds to me.

"Who is...who is going to teach me?" I asked.

"His name is Marco Alessi. You'd stay with him as long as it takes to learn and complete the training. Like I said before, no one's going to violate you—ever. But as far as your training goes, you'd listen to each and every word that Marco says. You'd respect him, obey him and do whatever he asks you to do."

"What if he is—"

"He is not a monster, Aurora. He is a tough guy but he won't torture you or hurt you. Yes, he might push your limits but you'd be safe with him. I will pay you a visit once a week until I am sure that you are good on your own."

My thoughts were such a jumbled mess that I could hardly think straight. On one hand, I knew this was some kind of a good deal that life was throwing at me. I'd never had to be afraid of anything, neither would I have to starve and freeze to death. But men like Viktor didn't do anything like this very generously. For all I knew about him was that he dealt in drugs, carried guns and was some kind of a super rich millionaire and none of those points add up.

I looked up straight into his blue eyes. "What do you get out of this?"

He smiled darkly. "Your loyalty." What was he, some kind of a king?

When I didn't say anything for a long time, he added, "Tell you what, Aurora, take a day off and think about it. You're free to roam around in this wing of the estate. I'd inform my men. But make no mistake—do not even think of stepping out or fleeing. You won't make it out of here and I'd hate to have to kill you then."

**********************