Chapter 2- Added Problems
1176 Words
The smell of blood filled the room. My mother still lay unconscious in bed, and my father had been dragged in, his face barely recognizable under the bruises and cuts. He groaned in pain, slumping forward as the two men flanked him, holding him upright like a broken doll.
His left leg was twisted at an odd angle, likely shattered.
“Dad?” My voice was a whisper, as though saying it any louder would break me.
The taller of the two men, a brute with a cruel smile, shoved my father to the ground. His head hit the floor with a dull thud, a muffled whimper escaping his lips. I took a step forward, every instinct in my body screaming to help him, but the men blocked my path.
“You stay right there,” one of them said, his voice sharp as a knife.
“Dad, what the hell is going on?” I demanded, my voice trembling as I tried to keep my knees from buckling under me.
My father tried to speak, his lips moving, but no words came out. His eyes, swollen and bloodshot, darted toward the man in the doorway—the man I recognized instantly, even in the shadow-filled room.
Dante Marino.
I froze.
Dante, one of the most feared men in Novalon.
His eyes, dark and unreadable, met mine, sending a chill down my spine.
I’d seen him at the Mirage, always watching from the shadows, never speaking.
One of my highest tippers. A man who never asked for a private dance, never even spoke to me. But he was always there.
Watching.
And now, he was here.
In my home.
Dante's presence filled the room, cold and commanding.
He stepped forward, his expensive black suit immaculate, as though he hadn't just walked into a nightmare. The men around him seemed to shrink in his presence, their bravado evaporating in an instant.
“Sienna,” Dante said, the way my name came out of his lips like melted honey.
It wasn’t a question, more like an acknowledgment. He knew who I was, and that terrified me even more than the blood on my father’s face.
“What do you want?” I asked, my voice shaking, but I refused to back down. I couldn’t. Not now.
Dante’s eyes drifted down to my father, still lying in a heap on the floor. He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable, but there was something dangerous lurking beneath the calm exterior.
“Your father owes me a lot of money,” Dante said, his tone flat, devoid of any emotion. “Money he doesn’t have.”
My heart dropped. "How much?" I barely managed to whisper.
Dante’s cold gaze returned to me, pinning me in place. “Half a million.”
I blinked, the air leaving my lungs. Half a million? We didn’t have that kind of money. We could barely afford my mother’s treatments, let alone something like this.
"Half a million?" I repeated. “How? Why?”
My father groaned, trying to push himself up on his elbows, but the effort was weak, and he collapsed again. "Sienna... I'm sorry," he rasped, his voice thick with pain. "I—"
"Save your breath," Dante interrupted, his voice as cold as ice. “We don’t have time for confessions.”
I clenched my fists, trying to keep the panic from overwhelming me. "We can’t pay that. There’s no way—"
“You think I don’t know that?” Dante cut me off, taking another step forward. His presence was suffocating, and my body instinctively wanted to retreat, but I stood my ground.
“What are you going to do to him?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“That depends.” His gaze never wavered from mine, assessing, calculating. “On you.”
My stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”
Dante glanced at his men, and they dragged my father up again, his body limp and defeated. The sight of him like that, broken and vulnerable, shattered something inside me. This was my father—flawed, yes, but the man who had raised me, who had done everything to take care of us.
And now... now he was at Dante’s mercy.
"You have something of value to offer," Dante said smoothly, his eyes trailing down my body. It wasn’t lustful, but it was cold, like a hunter eyeing prey. "I’ve seen you at the Mirage. You’re... impressive."
I swallowed hard, my heart hammering against my ribs. "If you think I’m going to sleep with you for my father’s life, you’re insane."
Dante’s lip twitched, but it wasn’t a smile. “No. That’s not what I’m asking.”
"Then what do you want?" My voice cracked, the fear seeping into every syllable.
“I want you,” he said quietly, his voice carrying an unmistakable finality. “You work for me now. You’ll come to me when I call, and you’ll do what I say. You would dance and strip for me and my men. If you do that, your father’s debts will be erased, and your mother’s medical bills covered.”
A cold sweat broke out over my skin. "So... I'm supposed to be what? Your property?"
Dante’s gaze hardened. “If you like, you can call it protection.”
Protection. The word felt like poison on my tongue. He wasn’t offering protection. He was offering ownership, plain and simple. I was to be his toy.
I glanced at my father, his face swollen and bloody, and at my mother lying unconscious in the next room, her fragile body struggling with every breath. If I said no, they would both be destroyed. My father would be dead by morning, and my mother... God, I couldn’t even think about that.
“So, that’s it?” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I become your... what? Your pet? For how long?”
Dante tilted his head, considering. “Until I say otherwise.”
I wanted to scream, to run, to lash out, but my body felt paralyzed.
My father whimpered again, and I closed my eyes, swallowing the bile rising in my throat. There was no way out. No escape.
I opened my eyes and looked at Dante, his cold, unreadable face staring back at me. “Fine,” I said, “Just…just give me some time to think.”
“It’s funny how you think you have…time.” He pushed his jacket back, and i saw the black revolver on his waist.
“P…please…just a little bit of time…please.”
He squinted his eyes, trailed them down my body, hummed then nodded.
He turned on his heel, heading toward the door. His men followed, dragging my father with them.
"Wait!" I called out, panic rising again. "Where are you taking him?"
Dante didn’t bother turning around as he spoke. "Somewhere."
I stood there, frozen, as they disappeared into the night, leaving behind the stench of blood.
And just like that, my life was no longer my own.
- Writer
