Trapped
1802 Words
Sienna’s POV
The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the smell.
Old oil, sweat, cigarettes. The holy trinity of bad life choices.
The second thing I noticed? My wrists were tied. My ankles too. Which meant my only weapon was my voice and I didn’t have that at the moment.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to breathe through the rising panic. My chest hurt with every inhale, my throat tight.
I groaned, shifting against the chair that was bitting into my skin. The pain was alot. ‘What have I gotten myself into?,’ I muttered to myself, I just wanted to get away.
A voice answered from the shadows. “She’s awake.”
Two men stepped forward into the dim light. Both of them big, their faces flat, eyes cold.
Both built like refrigerators with tattoos. The kind of guys who probably thought deodorant was optional but carrying guns was mandatory.
The taller one smirked. “So this is her. The girl Mancini broke his rules for.”
I lowered my eyes , fighting the thump of my heart.“I don’t know what you think you know.”
My father had always drilled one thing into me: words could get you killed. Better to be underestimated than to be remembered.
His smirk widened. “Feisty.” He leaned close enough that I could smell the cigarettes on his breath. “Tell me are you his new w***e?”
My laugh slipped out, brittle and wrong. My voice cracked, thin and small in the heavy room.“I’m not his whore.” The words trembled, but I forced them out anyway.
The shorter guy snorted. “Boss was right. She has got a pretty mouth.”
I shook my head quickly, my throat tight. “I don’t… I don’t want trouble.”
They didn’t like that.
The taller one backhanded the chair, close enough that I felt the force rattle up my spine. My heart shot into my throat, but I refused to flinch. I bit down hard on the scream clawing to get out.
“You’ll scream for him soon enough,” he promised.
My lips trembled. “He’s not coming.” My voice cracked, weak, but I clung to it. “He wouldn’t.”
That earned me a rough grip on my chin. His fingers dug into my skin, forcing my face up to his. His eyes glittered with cruelty.
"You’re bait. That’s all you are. He’ll come. He always comes for what’s his. And when he does…” He mimed pulling a trigger, smiling with sick delight. “Boom.”
His eyes glittered with cruelty
My stomach twisted so violently I thought I might be sick. The fear pressed down on my chest until I could barely breathe.
I whispered, broken, “Please… don’t.”
He shoved my face away, disgusted
My stomach twisted, but I shoved the fear down, burying it under a ball of saliva I just swallowed.
"Leave her,” the other one muttered. “Boss said don’t touch her. Just wait.”
The taller one spat on the ground, but stepped back. And just like that, I was alone again.
The silence was worse. Without their voices to fight, my thoughts had room to breathe and they weren’t kind.
I pictured Gray. That sharp jaw, those cold eyes, the way he could silence a room with just a look. The man who barely tolerated me, who was probably already planning how to cut me out of his life once this was over. So won't I feel certain he wasn’t coming?
I laughed bitterly under my breath. “God, Sienna. You’re pathetic. First, you almost marry Damian. Then you fall headfirst for a man whose stare could kill. Excellent taste. Really. Ten out of ten and now, here you are.”
But my chest ached all the same.
Because as much as I wanted to lie to myself, I knew the truth: I didn’t just want Gray to save me. I needed him to.
Hours passed. Or maybe minutes. Time blurred when you were tied to a chair trying not to cry.
The thugs came and went, laughing, drinking, talking about the “big payday” when Mancini arrived.
And then he came.
Not the goons. Not the fridge-shaped henchmen who had been circling like vultures.
No. This man moved like he owned the air itself. Crisp black suit, cufflinks glinting under the weak bulb they had placed above me, shoes that looked like they never touched dirt but I bet they have touched blood.
“Boss. She is not over there” one of his goons said.
The boss.
I didn’t know his name yet, but I knew power when I saw it. This was the kind of man who didn’t need to raise his voice to make these men kneel.
“So,” he said, stepping into the light, his gaze raking over me like a blade. “The girl who made Mancini break his rules.”
My pulse slammed in my throat. I tried to steady my breathing, but the chair creaked with how hard I was gripping it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The words came out thin, almost a whisper.
His mouth curved, not a smile, something colder. “Mancini doesn’t keep women. Never has. He f***s, he discards. But you…” He circled me slowly, like a wolf savoring his prey. “You’re different. Why?”
I swallowed hard, my voice trembling as I forced out, “I’m not different. I’m nothing to him.”
His chuckle was soft, terrifying. “Or maybe you’re his weakness.”
That word again. Weakness. Like a curse hanging over me.
He leaned in, close enough for me to see the faint scar near his temple. “Do you know what kind of man he is? How many men he has buried under Roman soil? You think he loves you because you are special? No. He pretends to love you because you are convenient. Because he wants you to suffer when he dies.”
But Gray didn’t love me. He didn’t even like me. He j…just tolerates me.
My lips parted, but no words came out at first. My chest tightened, air clawing in and out of my lungs. Finally, I managed a whisper. “You’re wrong.”
His hand snapped out, gripping my jaw. Not hard enough to break, but hard enough to make my teeth ache. “You think this is a joke?” His eyes reflected so much hate and anger “He will come for you. And when he does…” He smiled . “He will die screaming.”
Fear iced down my spine. I wanted to scream, cry, anything but I forced myself not to cry. Not yet. My voice broke as I tried again. “He is not coming for me. I am not… I am not worth that.”
His expression didn’t flicker. He dropped my chin like I was dirt. “You’ll see soon enough.
Then he turned, his men parted for him. “Keep her breathing,” he ordered without looking back. “For now.”
I sagged against the chair, fighting the panic clawing at my throat.
I kept my mouth shut now. My bravado reserves were running dry. Every word out of me felt like poking a bear with a stick.
But inside? Inside I was screaming.
I sat down there for hours with my heart lodged in my throat. Then a sound came through.
It was distant at first. Muffled. But growing closer each time.
Gun shots.
My head snapped up. My heart leapt to my throat. The thugs cursed, rushing to the door.
"What the hell..”
The door exploded inward before they could finish. And there he was. Gray Mancini.
Not a man. A whole force.
Gray Mancini didn’t walk into rooms. He invaded them. Black suit, gun steady in his hand, eyes flat and merciless.
He moved like fire, his gun spitting death with terrifying precision. His men swarmed in behind him, shadows tearing through the room.
The thugs didn’t stand a chance even as they scrambled for their weapons.
I should have been horrified. The blood. The violence. The merciless efficiency. But all I felt was relief. Bone-deep, breath-stealing relief.
Because he came. The next thing I knew, he was in front of me, crouching, cutting through the ropes at my wrists. His hands were steady until they weren’t. A tremor was barely there but I felt it.
“Sienna,” he breathed. My name, low and rough, like it hurt him to say it.
I tried to smile, but my lips trembled. “Took you long enough.”
His eyes snapped to mine, it was furious. “You think this is a joke?”
I swallowed hard, tears burning. “Kind of. I mean, ten out of ten for dramatic timing.”
His jaw clenched. “Don’t…” His voice shook. He steadied it. “Don’t ever joke about this.”
The ropes fell away. My arms ached, pins and needles shooting through them. I should have said thank you. I should have held onto my pride, but instead, I collapsed into him.
For one heartbeat, he froze. Then his arms wrapped around me, iron-strong, holding me as if he could shield me from the world itself.
They got me out. I don’t remember how. The chaos blurred into motion, into shadows and gunfire and Gray’s hand gripping mine like he would never let go.
Back in the car, silence thickened around us. I stared out the window, trying to breathe. Trying not to cry. My voice shook when I finally whispered, “I thought I was going to die.”
His answer came like steel wrapped in fire. “Not while you haven’t accepted my offer"
I turned to him then, studying his profile. Cold. Controlled. But his hand was still clenched around mine, white-knuckled, like letting go wasn’t an option.
And I realized something terrifying. I wasn’t afraid anymore. I was falling. And that was so much worse.
Back at his fortress, he refused to leave my side. Not the guards, not the walls, not the weapons were enough.
He sat across from me, silent, watching, until I snapped.
"You can’t keep me here forever, you know.”
"Watch me.”
I laughed weakly. “What are you going to do, chain me to your desk?”
His eyes darkened. “If that’s what it takes.”
The air between us crackled. My chest ached.
I should have ran. I should have hated him, but the truth was simpler, I didn’t want to leave.
And falling for him was the most dangerous thing I have ever done.
- Writer
