Property
864 Words
I woke up choking on fear.
It hit me before my eyes opened the wrong scent, sharp and unfamiliar. Leather. Smoke. Something metallic beneath it.
This was not my room.
My eyes flew open.
Darkness pressed in from every side, broken only by a narrow strip of light cutting across the ceiling. The space rocked gently, a low rumble vibrating through the floor.
A car.
My body tensed instantly.
Leather bit into my wrists when I tried to move.
Panic surged up my throat.
My hands were bound in front of me not painfully, but firmly. Whoever did this knew exactly how tight to make restraints so they wouldn’t cut skin but also wouldn’t loosen.
That terrified me more than ropes ever could.
My breathing grew shallow.
Stay calm.
You don’t survive panic.
I forced myself to look around.
The vehicle was massive dark interior, tinted windows, no handles on the inside. A cage disguised as luxury.
A faint glow from the dashboard illuminated the man sitting across from me.
Nico Valente.
He hadn’t moved.
One arm rested casually against the seat, long fingers relaxed, the other braced against his knee. His expression was carved from ice, eyes fixed on me like he’d been watching since before I woke.
“You’re awake,” he said.
No concern.
No surprise.
I swallowed.
“Where are you taking me?” My voice shook despite everything I did to stop it.
His gaze flicked briefly to my bound wrists, then back to my face.
“Somewhere safe.”
I laughed sharp, broken. “You destroyed my home.”
“Yes,” he said calmly. “And now you no longer need it.”
My nails dug into my palms.
“You killed people,” I said.
“I end threats.”
“You kidnapped me.”
He leaned forward slowly, the motion controlled, deliberate. The light caught his eyes, dark and unreadable.
“No,” he corrected. “I claimed you.”
The words wrapped around my spine like cold fingers.
“I’m not yours,” I snapped.
For the first time, something shifted.
Not anger.
Interest.
Nico stood, moving into my space with a predatory ease that made my body tense instinctively. He crouched in front of me, bringing his face level with mine.
“You are breathing because I decided you should,” he said quietly.
“You are sitting here because I allowed it.”
“You are still untouched because you interest me.”
His voice dropped lower.
“That makes you mine.”
Fear slid through me like ice water but under it, something else stirred.
Defiance.
“My father will come for me,” I said. “And when he does”
Nico smiled.
It was slow. Deadly.
“I’m counting on it.”
He rose and knocked once on the wall separating the front cabin.
The car slowed.
When the door opened, cold night air flooded in, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. I was pulled gently but firmly out of the vehicle.
We were deep in the mountains.
A fortress rose before me, carved from stone and shadow. High walls. Armed men. Cameras everywhere.
This wasn’t a hideout.
This was a kingdom.
Inside, I was led through wide halls lined with dark wood and steel. No decorations. No warmth. Everything here existed for one purpose control.
I was escorted into a room and the restraints were removed.
“Stay,” one man ordered.
The door shut.
Locked.
I rubbed my wrists slowly, refusing to cry.
Minutes passed. Or hours. Time fractured under fear.
The door opened again.
Nico stepped inside alone.
He removed his gloves carefully, placing them on the table like a ritual. He watched me the whole time, measuring every breath, every movement.
“This is your room,” he said. “You will not leave it unless I allow it.”
“I won’t behave like a prisoner,” I replied.
“You will,” he said. “Because you are alive.”
I stepped forward. “If you plan to hurt me”
His hand shot out, gripping my chin sharply.
The contact stole my breath.
“I do not enjoy pain,” he said softly. “I enjoy control. There is a difference.”
His thumb pressed just below my lip, not gentle, not cruel possessive.
“You will eat when food is brought.”
“You will sleep here.”
“You will not attempt escape.”
His eyes darkened.
“If you obey, nothing happens to you.”
“And if I don’t?” I whispered.
His grip tightened just slightly.
“Then your father suffers first.”
Something inside me broke.
He released me suddenly, stepping back as if he’d touched fire.
“You are leverage,” he said coldly. “Do not confuse that with affection.”
He turned toward the door.
“Rest,” he added. “Tomorrow, you learn your place.”
The door closed behind him.
The lock clicked.
And alone in the darkness, one truth settled deep into my bones:
Nico Valente hadn’t taken me to punish me.
He’d taken me to use me.
- Writer
