Serafina POV
“Uh,” I groaned. My body ached. I forced my eyes open; a harsh light overhead blinded me. The smell of damp mildew filled the air. Gray concrete walls surrounded me. When I looked down, handcuffs restrained my wrists.
A narrow metal bed is bolted to the wall on my left. I push myself into a sitting position with a sharp hiss as pain shoots through me.
“Assassin princess is awake.”
My head snaps toward the voice; it belongs to Zavier Ventura, who steps into the prison cell and stands tall as he looks down at me coldly. One of his men drags in a chair for him. He sits, shoulders squared, his presence commanding. His lips curl into a slow, menacing smile, the kind that could shake anyone. Not me. I keep my face blank.
“You killed my father.” He isn’t asking; he’s telling me he knows, and hiding it from him is useless.
“Yes,” I confessed. His gaze hardens.
“I wish I could’ve killed you too, asshole,” I hiss.
One of his men steps forward, ready to strike me.
“Stay down,” he warns. The bodyguard freezes instantly, stepping back behind him. Zavier’s icy gaze returns to me. His hand, gripping my jaw roughly.
“Assassin princess, your life is in my hands.” His grip tightens. My already bruised face flares with pain.
“Provoke me,” he continues, his voice low, “and you sign your own death.”
“Kill me,” I force out through clenched teeth. His eyes turn even colder, if that’s possible.
“Of course,” he murmurs, almost bitterly. “An assassin princess isn’t afraid of death.” He leans closer.
A sadist.
"My only regret,” I say, my voice shaking with anger, “is not killing you too.”
“Repeating your regret won’t change anything,” he mocks.
I shove his hand away, ready to strike, but his men grab me before I can move.
“Let go of me, assholes!” I scream, kicking at them.
Useless.
“Ease.” His icy voice cuts through the room. His men immediately backed off.
I glare at him, pouring every ounce of hatred into it.
“You’re a rookie, aren’t you?” he asks.
I say nothing.
“Figured,” he murmurs, his tone enough to make my skin crawl. I bite down on my lip, forcing myself to stay quiet. The image of my parents’ lifeless eyes fuels the anger burning inside me.
“Demon. Go ahead. Kill me,” I say. I’d rather die and join them. Kael will finish this. Part of me regrets everything. I failed my mission.
His gaze burns into me, intense and unrelenting, but I don’t look away. Slowly, his expression shifts, a dark smirk forming.
It scares me.
“Uncuff her,” Zavier orders. The handcuffs click open. I push myself up despite the pain in my legs, already taking my stance.
His men tense.
Before I can move, his hand wraps around my throat.
“Assassin princess, you’re going to marry me.” His words stun me.
“f**k no,” I spit, aiming right at his face. With his free hand, he wipes it off calmly, unbothered.
“I’d rather die than be your wife.”
He smirks.
“Assassin princess.” The way he says it, coldly, makes my skin crawl.
“You don’t get a say in this. I need a wife. You fit.”
I glare at him, shoving his grip off me.
“If you don’t follow my commands, Princess,” his voice drops lower. He snaps his fingers. One of his men brings over a tablet.
My heart sinks into my stomach.
Kael.
Bruised. Tied to a chair. Unconscious.
“Kael,” I whisper. Kael never fails. He’s the top assassin at the Academy. I dragged him into my mess. Guilt twists inside me.
“Think carefully,” Zavier says, tilting his head. “Do you want him to die?” This bastard’s blackmail is cruel. I should’ve expected it.
He catches me off guard, and now Kael is paying for it.
“So what’ll it be, Assassin Princess?” he continues. “Marry me, and he stays alive, fed, breathing in my basement.” He pauses for a second.
“Or I tell my men to shoot him.” I swallow hard.
“I’ll marry you,” I say, my eyes still locked on the screen showing Kael, barely conscious.
Zavier smirks.
“Good choice, Assassin Princess.” His gaze drags over me, slow and assessing. It makes my skin crawl.
“Remember this, demon,” I warn. “There are ground rules.” His brow lifts slightly.
“You don’t touch me. Don’t come near me. This is just a public act, nothing more.”
“I’ll do as you say, Assassin Princess,” he replies smoothly. I didn’t believe him for a second. The Ventura never keep their word.
“Take her to the queen suite,” Zavier orders.
The bodyguard, the same one from before, shoots me a subtle look of hatred before masking it. I follow. As we walk, I try to spot Kael, any sign of him, but all I see are cells filled with others. Men. Women. Some look like assassins too. So many enemies.
So many failed attempts to take down Zavier and Caspian.
Heavy footsteps echo behind me. When we step into the open, the space changes. The penthouse comes into view. Chandeliers. Red carpets. Rare antiques. Expensive art lining the walls. Zavier’s taste. Just like his father, obsessed with wealth, power, and control. I follow the bodyguard up the staircase toward the top floor.
No footsteps behind me now.
I turn.
Zavier stands at the base of the stairs, speaking quietly on his phone. But his eyes are still on me, like he’s enjoying every second of this. That amusement on his face won’t last. I’ll be the one to erase it when I kill him. Until then, that promise is the only thing keeping me alive in this hell.