Bought For His Vengeance

5

Chapter Five

(Amara POV)

The room felt smaller than it was.

Or maybe it was just me.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor like it would give me answers if I looked long enough.

It didn’t.

Nothing did.

Everything felt… wrong.

Too quiet.

Too still.

Like the whole house was holding its breath.

Like something was waiting to happen.

Or maybe that something was already happening…

and I just didn’t know it yet.

My fingers tightened around the fabric of my dress.

I didn’t even remember changing.

Did he bring these clothes?

Did someone else?

I didn’t know.

And somehow that bothered me more than it should.

Because it meant things were happening around me…

without me knowing.

Without me having any control.

My chest tightened.

I hated that feeling.

Hated it.

The memory hit me again.

The gun.

The sound.

The way the man dropped.

Just like that.

No hesitation.

No second thought.

Like his life meant nothing.

Like he meant nothing.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

But it didn’t help.

It only made it clearer.

The sound echoed in my head again.

Loud.

Sharp.

Final.

I flinched slightly, pulling my knees closer to my chest.

Wrapping my arms around them like that would somehow keep me together.

Keep me from falling apart.

Because I could feel it.

That thin line inside me…

starting to c***k.

“I’m fine,” I whispered to myself.

But my voice didn’t sound convincing.

Not even to me.

I opened my eyes slowly.

The room looked the same.

Plain.

Too neat.

Too untouched.

Like no one really lived here.

Like it wasn’t meant to be lived in.

Just… used.

A small sound outside the door made me freeze.

Footsteps.

My heart jumped immediately.

Fast.

Too fast.

I held my breath.

Listening.

Waiting.

The steps were slow.

Measured.

Not rushed.

Not careless.

And for a second—

I thought it was him.

Coming back.

My stomach twisted.

I didn’t know what I was expecting.

Another order?

Another warning?

Something worse?

My fingers tightened again.

But then…

The footsteps passed.

Faded.

Gone.

I let out a breath slowly.

Too slowly.

Like I was scared even breathing too loud would bring him back.

My body relaxed slightly.

Just slightly.

But the tension didn’t leave.

It stayed.

Sitting in my chest.

Heavy.

I looked toward the door.

Still closed.

Still locked.

Of course it was.

My lips pressed together.

“I should try again,” I whispered.

But I didn’t move.

Didn’t even stand up.

Because deep down…

I already knew.

There was no point.

Even if the door opened—

Where would I go?

How far would I get?

My stomach dropped at the thought.

Not far.

Not far at all.

And that scared me more than anything.

Because it meant—

I was already thinking like this place had rules.

Like I had limits.

Like I was already…

adjusting.

“No,” I muttered quickly, shaking my head.

“No.”

I wasn’t going to think like that.

I wasn’t going to accept this.

I wasn’t going to—

The thought died in my head.

Because another one replaced it.

Quieter.

More honest.

What choice do you have?

My throat tightened.

I didn’t answer that.

Because I didn’t have one.

⸻

Time passed.

I didn’t know how much.

Minutes.

Hours.

It all blurred together.

The light in the room shifted slightly.

That was the only way I could tell.

I stood up at some point.

Walked around.

Touched things I didn’t care about.

Sat back down.

Stood up again.

Restless.

Like I couldn’t sit still but also didn’t know what to do.

My stomach growled softly.

I ignored it.

Food didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered.

Except one thing.

Him.

What he would do next.

What he wanted.

Why I was still here.

The questions kept coming.

And none of them had answers.

I walked toward the door slowly.

This time…

I actually reached for the handle.

My hand hesitated mid-air.

Then—

I grabbed it.

Turned.

Locked.

Of course.

I let out a quiet breath.

Not surprised.

Just… tired.

I rested my forehead lightly against the door.

Closing my eyes.

For a second.

Just one second.

Then I stepped back.

Because standing there wouldn’t change anything.

Nothing would.

⸻

(Dante POV)

The office was quiet.

Too quiet.

The kind of silence that usually meant something was wrong.

I leaned back slightly in my chair, fingers tapping once against the desk.

Impatient.

This was taking too long.

It shouldn’t take this long.

Not for something this simple.

My jaw tightened slightly.

The door opened.

“Boss.”

I didn’t look up immediately.

Let him stand there.

Let him wait.

“Speak.”

There was a pause.

Unusual.

I noticed it instantly.

And I didn’t like it.

Silence wasn’t supposed to exist here unless I allowed it.

I lifted my gaze slowly.

He was tense.

That was mistake number one.

“What is it?” I asked.

My voice didn’t change.

Didn’t need to.

He swallowed slightly.

“We got the confirmation.”

I stared at him.

Waiting.

My fingers stopped tapping.

“And?”

Another pause.

Longer this time.

The air shifted.

Something wasn’t right.

I could feel it.

A small, sharp feeling settled in my chest.

Unwelcome.

Unfamiliar.

“Say it,” I said.

Quieter this time.

But heavier.

Enough to remind him who he was talking to.

He hesitated.

Again.

Mistake number two.

My gaze hardened slightly.

Not visibly.

But enough.

His shoulders stiffened.

Then finally—

“It’s not her.”