OWNED BY MR. MANRIQUIZ [THAT RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE]

CHAPTER 14

I didn’t even hear the door open at first. I was busy picking at the edge of my blanket, mind lost somewhere between boredom and that gnawing anxiety I couldn’t shake off. But the sound of heels—sharp, deliberate—snapped me back to reality.

And then I saw her.

Lexi.

Her hair was perfect as always, even though her face still had that pale, sickly undertone from her recent hospital stay. She stood there, staring at me like I was some wild animal behind bars.

“You—” she hissed, voice trembling but sharp enough to cut glass.

I barely had time to sit up before she lunged at me.

The first thing I felt was her hand grabbing a fistful of my hair—hard—yanking my head back so much my eyes watered.

“You ruined my life!” she screamed right into my face, her spit landing on my cheek.

“Lexi—stop! Listen—”

“Shut up!” Her other hand reached for the nightstand, and before I could process it, she had grabbed the drinking glass sitting there and slammed it against the wall. It shattered instantly, the sharp crack making me flinch.

And then she held one jagged piece like a weapon.

“You think I won’t do it?!” she yelled, pressing the edge so close to my face I could see my reflection in the shard. My heart was pounding so loud it felt like it filled the whole room.

I tried to push her away, my legs useless beneath me, my arms flailing. “Lexi—please!”

“You destroyed my future! My wedding! My career!” she kept screaming, her voice breaking between sobs and rage. “I lost everything because of you!”

Her grip in my hair tightened even more, making my scalp burn. My whole body was shaking—not just from fear, but from the sheer disbelief of how quickly this had turned into a nightmare.

Then, the door burst open.

“Lexi!” A woman’s voice—older, commanding—cut through the chaos.

Lexi’s mother rushed in, eyes wide as she took in the scene. In two quick strides, she was beside us, grabbing Lexi’s wrist just before the glass could come anywhere near me.

“Enough!” her mother barked, yanking her daughter back.

Lexi fought her, still screaming over her shoulder. “She’s a scum! She’s a snake! She deserves to—”

“Stop it! You’re not thinking straight!” her mother said, her own voice trembling now as she tried to restrain her. “You’re not going to jail over this! Let’s go!”

They struggled for a moment before her mother managed to pull her toward the door. Lexi was still trying to twist free, her hair falling in messy strands over her face, her chest heaving with each furious breath.

And through all of this… he was there.

Mr. Darious Manriquiz.

Standing in the corner of the room. Watching.

Not a word. Not a single move to stop it. His eyes were cold—unblinking—like he was watching a scene he had planned all along.

When Lexi finally disappeared out the door with her mother, the silence was deafening. My whole body was shaking, my throat dry, my palms clammy.

I looked at him, my voice cracking. “You just stood there.”

He didn’t answer. Just turned and walked away, leaving me alone with the broken glass on the floor and the pounding in my ears.

For a long time, I just sat there, clutching the blanket like it could protect me from everything closing in. The room felt smaller than ever. And for the first time since I’d been locked here… I wasn’t sure if I would make it out alive.

I was lying on the bed when I heard the soft knock again. The door creaked open, and there was Susan, holding a tray with my breakfast. She always came in the same quiet way—no fuss, no noise—just the gentle clink of dishes against the tray. She placed it on the small table near the window and gave me that faint smile she always gave me.

“You didn’t eat much last night,” she said, glancing at the untouched plate from dinner.

“I wasn’t hungry,” I muttered, sitting up. The room felt colder than usual, like the walls were closing in on me.

Susan sighed. “You can’t starve yourself, Callie. That’s not going to help you in here.”

I just stared at the steam rising from the soup she brought. It smelled good, but my appetite had died weeks ago—along with the last bit of hope I had of getting out of here on my own.

She lingered by the table, as if hesitating to leave. Finally, she sat on the chair across from me. “I shouldn’t say this, but… you should know. Mr. Manriquiz… he’s not keeping you here for nothing.”

I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Susan glanced toward the door like someone might be listening. Her voice dropped low. “He may have plans for you. Not the kind you’d like.”

That made my chest tighten. “Plans like what?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

She swallowed hard. “Could be anything… maybe making you work for him. Like a servant, or worse… a slave. Or maybe—” she paused, her eyes darting away from mine “—maybe just ending your life for good.”

I froze, my mind blank for a second before a shiver ran down my spine. “You’re joking,” I said, though I knew from the seriousness in her tone that she wasn’t.

Susan shook her head. “I wish I was. But I’ve worked for him long enough to know… when he gets driven by anger, he doesn’t always think like a normal man. And right now, he’s fueled by a lot of it.”

My throat went dry. “Anger at me? I didn’t… I didn’t do anything to deserve this.”

Her gaze softened. “Nah… I hope not. It’s not always about what you did anyway. Sometimes, it’s about what you represent. And to him, you… you’re a reminder of something he wants to control or punish.”

I leaned back against the wall, trying to make sense of her words. “So, what, I’m supposed to just wait here? For him to decide whether I live or die?”

She looked down, fiddling with the hem of her apron. “I’m telling you so you won’t be shocked if things turn… darker.”

That was the thing—I was already living in the dark. Every day was the same: the locked door, the heavy footsteps outside, the silence that followed. I’d tried the window; it was barred. I’d tried the door; it was solid oak with a lock that could probably withstand a crowbar. The only time I saw another face was when Susan brought my meals or when he decided to show up, just to look at me like I was some sort of object he owned.

I gripped the edge of the blanket. “Why are you even telling me this? Aren’t you afraid he’ll find out?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Maybe. But I think you deserve to know what you’re dealing with. If I were you, I’d… be ready for anything. If he tells you to do something, you might want to think twice before saying no. At least until you figure out a way to survive this.”

The way she said survive made my skin crawl. I didn’t want to just survive—I wanted to get out, breathe air without feeling like I was being watched, walk outside without fear of what might happen next.

But there was no fight in me today. My body was tired, my mind even more so. I poked at the soup with the spoon. “And if I refuse? If I fight back?”

Susan’s expression turned grim. “Then you better pray. Because once he decides you’re no longer useful… well, I’ve seen how quickly people disappear around here.”

Her words hung heavy in the air. She stood, adjusting the tray on the table. “Eat, Callie. Keep your strength. You’ll need it.”

I wanted to ask her more, to press her for details, but the sound of footsteps in the hallway made her stiffen. Without another word, she slipped out, closing the door quietly behind her.

I sat there, staring at the tray. The soup was still steaming, the bread still warm, but the food suddenly felt like a reminder of my cage. I was being kept alive for a reason—just not one I wanted to know.

I pulled the blanket tighter around me, my eyes drifting to the barred window. It was bright outside. People were probably going about their day, laughing, living, making choices. And here I was, waiting for someone else to decide if I even had a future.

The worst part? Susan’s warning didn’t feel like an exaggeration. It felt like a countdown.