Il Suo Zaffario (His Sapphire)

Chapter 2

SAPPHIRE POV

I was lying on something soft, enveloped in a warmth that felt like the best thing I'd experienced since my days with my uncle. After my parents died, I found myself living with my uncle and aunt, who, instead of offering me solace, mistreated me.

Their harsh words and neglect turned my days into a relentless struggle. I stopped caring about my life because it felt like there was nothing left to care about. But even in the darkest moments, I clung to the memories of my parents and dreamed of a different life—a life filled with happiness, free from stress and constant battles.

My uncle provided me with a small room, barely large enough for a baby. The cramped space offered no comfort, with only a water bed to sleep on. It was better than the floor, but far from cozy.

To survive, I worked tirelessly in a bar. The job was demanding and left me utterly exhausted, but it was the only way I could afford a place to stay and avoid starving. I knew my uncle and aunt wouldn't care if I died—in their eyes, I was just a waste of space.

"Ugh," I groaned as my eyes slowly fluttered open. I glanced around the room, disoriented. "Where am I?" I muttered to myself.

The room was enormous and luxurious, unlike anything I had ever seen. The walls were covered in black and white, and a crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a gentle light. The space was filled with elegant furniture, including a grand wooden bed and soft armchairs. A large antique rug covered the polished marble floor.

I sat up, wincing as a dull ache throbbed in my head. My surroundings were alien and intimidating, making me feel even more vulnerable. I struggled to piece together how I had ended up in such a luxurious, yet unsettling place. The comfort of the bed was in stark contrast to the fear and confusion swirling inside me.

Then it all came flooding back. "That guy... Logan," I whispered, panic rising in my chest. He kidnapped me. What should I do? My eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape. I quickly got off the bed and ran to the door. I was about to touch the knob when I saw it move, as if someone was about to enter.

"s**t, s**t, s**t," I panicked, stepping back. I didn't even have time to hide. I grabbed a vase from the night table and held it high, ready to defend myself. The door opened, and I was about to strike, but I stopped midway when I realized it was a helpless elderly lady.

"Please don't hit me," she begged, and I lowered the vase, my heart still racing.

"I'm sorry, I thought it was Logan," I said, watching as she sighed and placed a tray on the table.

"Did he kidnap you too?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice. She shook her head, avoiding my gaze.

"I brought some soup for you. Have it," she said, her tone gentle but distant.

I looked at her suspiciously. "Okay, I'm leaving," I said, starting towards the door. The whole situation was too bizarre. How could she act like everything was normal? Was she used to this? Had Logan kidnapped other women?

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the elderly lady said, her voice calm but firm.

"Why not?" I shouted, my frustration boiling over. "He kidnapped me against my will! He's crazy, and so are you for thinking this is normal!" I opened the door, my mind racing with fear and anger. What was wrong with him? What kind of person drugs and kidnaps someone? Was this human trafficking?

"I need to get out of here," I muttered to myself, but as I stepped into the hallway, reality hit me. "Where the heck am I going?" I stopped in my tracks, realizing just how massive his house was. Where was I supposed to go? I didn't even know where to turn. I just stood there for a minute, then sighed.

"I don't understand," I whispered to myself, "why would he kidnap me? Was it because of what I did? What normal person would do that?" Questions flooded my mind, but there were no answers in sight.

I looked down at myself, noticing I was no longer wearing my bar clothes. Instead, I was dressed in something more comfortable, my hair neatly brushed back into a ponytail. "Who dressed me?" I asked, the unsettling reality of my situation sinking in deeper. Everything was too strange, too confusing. Maybe I should have just stayed put.

"Sapphire," the elderly lady called softly, and my head snapped toward her. I rushed back to her side, grabbing her hand.

"Please, please help me leave. I don't want to die," I begged, my voice trembling with fear. She looked at me with pity, but her words offered no comfort.

"I'm sorry, but I can't. I have to follow the boss's orders," she said with sympathy in her eyes. "Trust me, he won't hurt you."

I pulled away, the walls I had built to protect myself slowly crumbling. I always acted tough to hide my pain and hurt, but this situation was too much. I wanted to cry, but I took a deep breath and sighed instead.

"Fine then, can I speak to Logan?" I asked, feeling defeated. This was the last thing I wanted to do, but I needed to find a way out.

"I'm not sure, but I think he's in a meeting. Just go down the hall, then up those stairs to the top floor. Knock gently on the door and wait for him to answer," she instructed, and I nodded, heading down the hall and up the stairs. As I reached the top, my jaw dropped. How much money does this guy even have?

The hallway stretched endlessly, with only one door in the middle. I marched up to the heavy wooden door, my heart pounding in my chest, each beat fueled by equal parts fear and anger. "Even the freaking door is elegant and has his name engraved on it," I muttered in disbelief.

"Logan Esposito," I murmured, running my fingers over his name. With a deep breath, I raised my fist and pounded on the door, the sound echoing in the empty hallway. "Gentle my ass," I grumbled, rolling my eyes.

The door swung open abruptly, and I found myself face-to-face or rather, face to chest with a tall figure looming in the doorway. I stumbled back but I caught my balance. His shadow fell over me, and I had to crane my neck to meet his intense gaze. "Woman, are you crazy?" he snapped, his voice deep, rough and filled with irritation.

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to mask my fear with defiance. "You're calling me crazy? You kidnapped me!" The accusation flew out of my mouth before I could think better of it. My voice quivered slightly, betraying the storm of emotions roiling within me.

His eyes darkened, and without warning, he grabbed my arm and yanked me inside, slamming the door behind us. In one swift motion, he shoved me against it, my back hitting the wood hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs. I gasped, my body trembling as I tried to regain my composure.

"You listen to me," he growled, his face inches from mine, his breath hot against my skin. "You're in my house, and you will not disrespect me."

I swallowed hard, my chest heaving as I fought to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. "I don't care," I managed to choke out, my voice barely more than a whisper. "Did I ask to be here? Why did you kidnap me?" I demanded, the words bursting from me in a rush of desperation.

He stared at me, his cold eyes boring into mine, but he remained silent. The seconds stretched out, heavy and suffocating. "If it's because of what I did at the bar," I stammered, "I'm sorry. Now, let me go."

A small, cruel smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he slowly shook his head. "No. You now belong to me. You'll never leave this house."

His words hit me like a physical blow, and I felt the blood drain from my face. "What do you mean?" I asked, my voice cracking under the weight of my fear. I couldn't understand this man. What was the point of kidnapping me? What did he want? My mind raced, trying to piece together some sense from the nightmare unfolding around me.

But all I found was his unyielding stare, his silence a terrifying promise of what was to come.

"If you think I'm staying here, then you've made a mistake," I said, forcing the words out, even though my courage was hanging by a thread.

His eyes shifted, a glint of amusement replacing the icy coldness. "Fine then, be my guest," he said, stepping back and smoothing his suit. He fixed his tie with deliberate slowness, as if he had all the time in the world.

"Take the stairs, go all the way down. Take your left, and you'll find a big door that leads outside," he said, the instructions rolling off his tongue so smoothly it made my skin crawl.

For a moment, I just stood there, staring at him, trying to figure out if this was some kind of sick joke. But I couldn't stay in that room with him a second longer. My body was shaking as I turned and bolted out of the office. The hallway seemed longer now, darker, but I didn't stop until I was standing in front of the door he'd mentioned.

My hand trembled as I reached for the knob. My mind was screaming at me to stop, to think, but I couldn't. I had to know. I had to try.

The door creaked as it opened, and I hesitated, peeking outside. My heart stopped when I saw them—men with guns standing guard, their eyes cold and unfeeling. I slammed the door shut, my breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps.

"Go on, amour," a voice whispered behind me, sending a jolt of fear through me. I spun around to face him, his presence so close it was suffocating. He stood there, hands in his pockets, a pleased look on his face, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice breaking as the first tear slipped down my cheek.

He didn't answer. He didn't need to. The look in his eyes said everything. He was in control, and I was trapped.

My mind had two answers. It was either he was a gang leader or even worst a Mafia.

~~~~~