wrongfully owned by noah Zhang

chapter 1

The blindfold was damp, clinging tightly to Octavia's skin as if it had fused with her fear.

Sweat and tears soaked through the rough fabric, scratching at her eyelids every time she flinched. Her wrists were raw-burned to the point of numbness-where coarse rope bit into her flesh and locked her to a fragile wooden chair that groaned under her smallest movement.

Every sound in the room felt amplified. The slow, patient drip of water from a broken pipe. The skitter of rats in the corners. The low, shifting murmurs of men who didn't bother to hide their presence.

Octavia couldn't tell how long she had been there. Time had stopped behaving normally. Minutes stretched, collapsed, and reformed into something suffocating. All she had left was sensation-pain in her wrists, pounding in her chest, and the metallic taste of panic rising in her throat.

"Please," she whispered again, her voice broken and dry. "Let me go... I don't know what you want from me."

A laugh answered her-low, amused, unbothered.

Boot-steps circled her slowly, deliberately. The floorboards complained under their weight, as if even the building itself was uneasy.

"You really don't know?" one man said, leaning close enough for his breath to brush her cheek. It smelled of stale liquor and decay. "Your mother owes us a fortune, Octavia. The kind of debt you don't just walk away from."

Her throat tightened. "I haven't seen her in months," she choked out. "I swear. I don't have any more money to pay off her debt. I'm just... I'm just trying to get by through life. I have nothing to do with her life."

A hand clamped onto her shoulder. Hard. Possessive. Pain shot through her arm as fingers dug into bruising pressure.

"Then you'll pay in kinds dear," the man said casually, as though discussing something trivial. "Piece by piece if we have to. Organs sell well. A young woman like you? Very... valuable."

Her stomach lurched violently.

"No," Octavia breathed, shaking her head even though no one could see it. "Please.. Let me go. Let me go!I just want to go home. If you need my mother go find her and leave me the f**k alone!."

"Home?" another voice mocked softly. Fingers brushed her cheek-slow,-before trailing down the side of her neck like a warning. "Like your mother ever cared about family . Last we saw Elena, she was drowning herself in cards and alcohol f*****g every bastard that came her way.. You planning to follow her path, girl? Pay her debt the same way she did?" He said his hand trailing down her body.

Something inside Octavia snapped.

Years of swallowed humiliation. Years of being called unwanted, a mistake, an accident that should never have existed. Rage cut sharply through the terror, bright and involuntary.

She lunged forward as far as the ropes allowed.

"Get your f*****g hands off me you bastard!," she spat into his face.

Silence cracked for half a second.

Then-Smack!.

The slap came fast, brutal, and unforgiving. Her head snapped sideways. Pain bloomed across her cheek in a violent wave, and the taste of blood flooded her mouth. The chair rocked violently beneath her, creaking as she fought not to collapse.

"Enough."

The voice cut through the room like a blade.

Everyone froze..

Footsteps approached-not rushed, not aggressive, the kind that commanded obedience from the sound of his voice.

.A moment later, hands tore the blindfold away.

Light exploded into her eyes. A single hanging bulb swung faintly overhead, harsh and yellow, stabbing into her eyes until she had to blink rapidly just to make sense of shapes.

Shadows resolved into men standing around her.

And then a man stepped forward.

He wore a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, untouched by the grime of the warehouse. His presence didn't match the room-it dominated it. Not through volume, but through absolute control.

His expression was almost bored.

That was what unsettled her most.

The calmness that made her shiver

"You can't pay the debt in money," he said calmly, as though continuing a conversation already decided long ago. " I'm kind enough to offer you an alternative arrangement. One that allows you to keep your body intact."

Octavia swallowed hard, her breath uneven. "What could that be?"

He crouched slowly, bringing himself to her eye level. His grey eyes were , unreadable, but brutal in the way he stares at her.

"Something simple. I just want you to get someone for me."

She swallowed hard

"Who?"

"I want you to kill Noah Zhang!" He said his cold eyes on her daring her to say no.

The name struck her like a physical blow.

For a moment, she thought she had misheard.

"Noah Zhang?" she repeated hoarsely.

He didn't react. He simply observed her reaction like she was wasting his time

"Yeah the second son to that bastard who sit high on the Zhang empire," he added evenly. "I want you take what is truly dearest to him."

Octavia stared at him like he must have lost it

He want her to kill Andrew Zhang son -the man whose name appeared in headlines like a warning. Untouchable. Unreachable. The king of tech and hospitality business . The billionaire un seen second son who avoided the media like plague. No one knew how he looked like some even doubted if Andrew did have a son.

Octavia's laugh came out broken. Unbelieving. "You're insane."

Silas tilted his head slightly.

"Am I?"

He straightened and opened a black folder. Inside were photographs-crisp, professional. Noah Zhang stepping out of a luxury vehicle. Noah Zhang in a dark coat, expression carved like ice. Him surrounded by security that blurred into the background like ghosts.

"He doesn't allow anyone close," Silas continued. "He doesn't tolerate unpredictability. His security is airtight. Ordinary methods won't work."

He looked back at her then.

"But a desperate woman with nothing left to lose..." His gaze lingered. "Is the best pawn to use. Everyone loves a sad weak woman. Andrew won't know what hit him."

Octavia stared at the image, her cheek throbbing where she had been struck. The rope still cut into her wrists, reminding her that this was not a negotiation. It was a collapse disguised as a choice.

"I don't know anything about killing people," she said quietly.

Silas closed the folder with slow precision.

"You don't need to know," he replied. "You just need access.then we discuss how to take him out later."

Her chest rose and fell unevenly.

Thoughts collided inside her-her mother's debts, her own wasted years, the men in the dark who spoke about her body like currency. Every path she had ever tried to take forward had ended here. Back in someone else's violence.

"And if I refuse?" she asked.

He didn't answer immediately.

When he did, his voice remained calm.

"Then we stop negotiating. And we begin removing things you own that are value."his eyes roamed her body". Slowly. So you understand exactly what debt feels like when you mess with the wrong crowd."

The silence that followed was heavier than any threat spoken aloud.

Octavia looked around the room. At the men in shadow. At the cold inevitability of it all. At him, who waited as if time itself belonged to him.

Something inside her went still.

Octavia looked around the room. At the men in shadow. At the cold inevitability of it all. At him, who waited as if time itself belonged to him.

Something inside her went still.

She had spent her entire life being something done to, discarded, used, reshaped by other people's choices. Her mother's mistakes had always become her consequences.

Maybe that ended here.

Maybe she needed to stop being the victim and started looking for ways to survive.

Maybe she needed to stop being the victim and started looking for ways to survive.

Slowly, she lifted her chin.

"It seems I'm left with no choice ," she said." Fine then I'll do it."

The words felt foreign in her mouth.

How could she murder another human she thought to herself

He studied her for a long moment. Not surprised. Not relieved. Just assessing her to be sure she wasn't up to no good.

Finally, he nodded once.

"Good," he said. "Then you're part of this now, Octavia."

He stood, adjusting his cuff as if nothing meaningful had just occurred.

"Try not to die before you finish the job. And welcome to the family."