CHAPTER EIGHT| Silence
742 Words
CHAPTER EIGHT
The metal door creaked open with a slow, echoing groan.
Zara didn’t move.
Her eyes, already used to the dark, blinked at the faint light spilling in from the hallway. Her legs ached. Her throat was dry. But she didn’t cry. Not anymore.
“Come on,” a soft voice said.
Roberto.
He stepped in carefully, no weapons, no harshness in his tone. Just a man doing what he was told—but this time, with a hint of guilt behind his eyes.
She didn’t look at him. She stood and walked out on her own.
No one else waited in the hall. No guards. No threats.
Just silence.
He led her back to her room. On the bed sat a folded set of clean clothes, a warm meal, and a bottle of water. Zara eyed them coldly but said nothing.
Roberto cleared his throat. “You should eat something.”
She didn’t respond.
“I told you not to run,” he said. “You didn’t listen.”
“I don’t take orders,” she murmured, sitting at the edge of the bed.
“Especially not from people who sell girls.”
Roberto leaned against the door, his voice dropping. “You think I had a choice? You think I’m here because I want to be?”
She looked up at him—really looked—and for the first time, she saw something in his face that wasn’t just control or cruelty.
It was tiredness.
“Then leave,” she said simply.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he left the room, locking the door behind him.
The next morning, Zara was expected at breakfast.
She arrived in silence, dressed in one of the expensive, modest outfits they provided. Her eyes were dull but sharp—taking in everything.
The dining room was as grand as ever. Gold chandeliers hung above a long, dark wooden table. Fresh fruit, eggs, toast, and meats were laid out like a royal feast.
The three men were already seated.
Adrian flashed her a grin. “Good to see you again, sweetheart. You look... well.”
She ignored him, taking the farthest seat from all of them.
Luca simply watched her, unreadable as always. Matteo, on the other hand, looked unimpressed.
“You think silence is rebellion?” he said. “You’re wasting your time. You live here now.”
“I didn’t ask to.”
“You weren’t supposed to,” Luca said calmly. “Your place is here, and you’ll grow into it. Whether you want to or not.”
She gripped the edge of the table. “Why me?”
Adrian chuckled. “You’ll understand in time.”
After the meal, Luca nodded toward Roberto, who entered quietly. “Show her the rest of the property.”
Zara stood reluctantly, following him through the halls. He pointed out rooms: library, indoor pool, gallery, offices, the gym, the gardens.
“It’s all beautiful,” she muttered.
“Cage or not.”
He didn’t reply.
As they walked past the large windows, she paused to stare out at the view. Mountains in the distance. No other buildings in sight. Just endless land.
“Do you think they’ll let me leave one day?” she asked suddenly.
Roberto looked down. “I don’t think that’s part of the plan.”
“Do you believe in plans?” she asked.
He gave a half-shrug. “I believe in survival.”
Zara looked away, nodding slowly. “So that’s it. We survive. No matter who we have to become.”
That night, the three men gathered in Luca’s private study.
“She didn’t break,” Matteo said, swirling whiskey in a glass. “She’s too proud.”
“She’s strong,” Adrian replied. “Too strong to be used like the others. I like her fire.”
“She needs direction,” Luca said. “And soon, she’ll realize what role she’s meant to play.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Matteo asked.
Luca stood from his chair, walking to the window. “Then we remind her.”
Zara sat in her room, legs tucked under her as she stared at the blank page of a notebook she’d found in one of the drawers.
She picked up the pen and wrote one line.
You should have killed me too.
She stared at it, then added another:
Because I’m going to make you regret letting me live.
- Writer
