Chapter three
1051 Words
The first thing Alessia noticed when she stirred back into consciousness wasn’t the throbbing ache in her skull, it was the weight on her wrists. Cold, unyielding, metallic. Her lashes fluttered open, vision blurring with streaks of light
Her chest rose sharply. She tried to lift her hands, and the sound came, a sharp clink. The cuffs yanked her back against the carved wooden headboard.
Handcuffs.
Her throat dried instantly. Alessia pulled harder, as if it would change something, but the metal only cut into her wrists. She was trapped.
“No, no, no,” she whispered under her breath, testing the cuffs again. They didn’t budge.
Her panic spiked when the sound of footsteps echoed from beyond the door. Steady. Confident. Heavy boots across polished floors.
The door clicked open.
And there he was.
Damian.
Alessia’s lips parted, but no words came at first. Her instinct screamed to shrink back, but the cuffs forced her stillness.
He leaned lazily against the doorframe, gaze running over her in a slow, deliberate sweep.
“Awake,” he said, his voice low, laced with that Russian accent that made her skin prickle. “Good. I was starting to think my men hit you too hard.”
Alessia’s lips curled into a snarl. “Uncuff me, you bastard, and I’ll show you what too hard feels like.”
He tilted his head, a faint smirk ghosting his lips, not amusement, but something darker, like he was testing her.
“Tempting, princess. But you’re not exactly in a position to make demands.”
She yanked at the cuffs again, the metal clanging. “Don’t call me that. And stop dangling that key like a damn trophy. If you’re going to kill me, get it over with.”
Damian crossed the room, his steps deliberate, stopping at the foot of the bed. He set the glass on a nightstand, the key still swinging from his fingers.
His voice was soft, dangerous. “If I wanted you dead, Alessia, you wouldn’t have woken up.”
Her name on his lips sent a jolt through her, not fear but something she couldn’t name. She hated it. “Then why am I here?” she spat. “Why am I chained like some animal in your little fortress?”
He leaned against the bedpost, his gaze raking over her, slow, deliberate, like he was peeling back her defenses. “You’re here because your father was a fool".
He twirled the key, the motion maddeningly casual. “This....” he gestured to the cuffs, the room, “is the price of peace.”
Alessia laughed, sharp and bitter. “Peace? You shot him. My father. In our home. You call that peace?”
Damian’s eyes darkened, but his face remained a mask. “Your father was selling secrets to the Bratva. Secrets that would’ve buried us both. I did what I had to.”
“Liar,” she hissed, lunging forward as far as the cuffs allowed. The bed creaked, and pain shot through her wrists, but she didn’t flinch. “You wanted his empire. You wanted me out of the way. Don’t dress it up as honor.”
Damian’s smirk faded, his jaw tightening. He stepped closer, looming over her, close enough that she could smell the faint cedar of his cologne “You think I need your father’s crumbling empire?”
His voice was a low growl, each word deliberate.
“I have my own. And you, Alessia De Luca, are not out of the way. You’re right where I want you.”
Her pulse spiked, fury and something else, something dangerous twisting in her chest. “Chained to a bed? Real classy, Volkov. What’s next, a leash?”
He chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “Keep talking, princess. It’s the only weapon you’ve got right now.”
She glared, her green eyes blazing. “Give me a blade, and I’ll show you a real weapon.”
He raised a brow, leaning closer, his face inches from hers. His breath was warm, his gaze unrelenting.
“You broke Rico’s ribs. Cracked Ivan’s wrist. I’d say you’re dangerous enough without one.” He paused, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But you’re not getting out of those cuffs until I trust you.”
“Trust me?” Alessia’s laugh was sharp enough to cut. “You’re the one who murdered my father. You think I’d trust you with a paperclip, let alone my life?”
“You need a lot of things,” he countered, tone suddenly sharper, though his lips still curved faintly. “Food. Sleep. A lesson in who you’re dealing with. You’re not going anywhere until you learn them.”
The way he said it, calm, absolute made her chest clench. Her wrists stung from pulling at the cuffs, but she didn’t stop.
“Why me?” she demanded finally. “Why drag me here? What do you want?”
For the first time, Damian’s smirk faltered. Not much, just a flicker but enough to show that he wasn’t amused by that question.
He leaned in closer, so close she could feel the faint warmth of his breath on her cheek. “Want?” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “You’ll find out soon enough. But know this your life stopped belonging to you the second you saw me.”
Her breath hitched.
His words fell like chains heavier than the cuffs themselves.
For a moment, silence swallowed the room,thick, unbearable.
Then Damian stood, retrieving his glass of whiskey from the nightstand. He swirled it lazily, as though their exchange hadn’t been charged with threat and tension.
“Rest, Alessia,” he said without looking at her, moving toward the door. “You’ll need it.”
The door closed behind him, the lock clicking into place, leaving her alone.
Alessia’s chest rose and fell in ragged bursts. Her wrists ached. Her head throbbed. And for the first time since her mother’s death, she felt the same suffocating terror pressing down on her chest, the helplessness she thought she’d buried.
She swallowed hard, shutting her eyes tight.
No.
She wouldn’t let him win.
Even if she had to break herself out link by link, bone by bone.
- Writer
