Bound By Blood And Obsession

Chapter2

They scrubbed me like I was something filthy. Maybe I was.

The water stung as it hit my skin, too hot like they were trying to burn Bastion off me. The soap smelled of chemicals and rot, and it reminded me of how many girls had stood where I was now—stripped, trembling, silent.

But I wasn’t silent.

Not inside.

Inside, my thoughts screamed and echoed his name and his words.

Valerio Nero.

The name tasted bitter in my mouth. It clung to the edges of my mind like smoke. I'd only seen him for a few minutes, but they felt like hours—his cold eyes, his voice that slid down my spine like a snake coiling around a human leg.

They gave me food after the bath. Real food. Not the sour gruel or stale bread I was used to. I ate like I hadn’t eaten in years—because I hadn’t. Every bite I took made my stomach ache. My stomach wasn’t used to fullness, and the weight of food in my belly felt like a betrayal to it.

Then, I was given clothes. Not the usual rags or a prison shift.

It was a dress

It was white and soft. The dress made me realize how thin and full of bones I was. They didn’t give me shoes. Maybe they couldn’t find my size.

I was led barefoot down hallways I’d never seen before, through doors I’d only ever heard about in screams. Guards stood by me on both sides, but they didn’t speak. They didn’t need to. Their silence was another kind of chain.

When we stepped into the open courtyard, I froze.

Sky.

I hadn’t seen it in so long. It hit me like a punch to the chest. I never thought I would see it again.

Gray, endless, smeared with clouds. But it was real. I could smell the cold in the air, and feel the wind slide over my damp skin. A car waited just beyond the gates.

It was black and looked expensive. I couldn’t tell what model it was since I had been locked up.

And he was there.

Valerio leaned against the hood like a king surveying his property. His black coat whipped in the wind, the collar high around his jaw. He wore gloves, but it didn’t hide the lethal grace in his every movement.

When his eyes met mine, I almost stumbled. They burned with something too intense to name. I couldn’t look at him anymore and averted my gaze. His eyes felt like they could see deep into my soul.

“Walk,” one of the guards grunted.

I did.

I sat in the backseat of the black, tinted vehicle—luxurious, smooth, and silent, yet every bump on the road reminded me of the unknown.

Valerio Nero sat beside me.

Not a word or a glance.

The man might as well have been carved from marble. Perfectly dressed in black tailored slacks and a dark shirt that hugged his powerful frame, he looked as out of place beside me as a god beside a beggar. His cold aura filled the car, pressing into me like a second prison.

I watched him from the corner of my eye. His jaw was sharp, the line of it tense. His eyes—those strange, haunting eyes—weren’t on me. They were fixed straight ahead, unreadable. Deep green with almost serpentine streaks of gold running through them. I had never seen eyes like that before.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer.

The guard driving glanced in the rearview mirror but wisely said nothing. The man in the passenger seat—another guard, built like a wall—shifted slightly as if he were just waiting for Valerio’s command to snap my neck.

“I deserve to know,” I pressed, voice tighter than I meant. “You pulled me out of Bastion. Are you just going to throw me into another prison?”

No reply.

I clenched my fists in my lap. “You…said my father owed.. you. But he’s dead. That should be the end of it.”

He finally looked at me.

One slow turn of his head. One long, lingering stare.

My breath hitched.

The weight of his gaze slammed into me. Not curious, not kind. It was assessing. Like I was already his and he was just deciding what part of me to break first. “Do not mistake my silence for mercy,” he said, his voice low, slow, and smooth. “You speak because I allow it. Don’t test the limits of that allowance.”

I flinched in fear but didn’t look away.

He leaned slightly closer, and the scent of him—dark leather, spice, and something colder, like winter steel—invaded my lungs. “You’ll arrive at my estate. You’ll follow instructions. You’ll breathe when I say so.”

“Is that how this works?” I asked before I could stop myself. “You take girls and turn them into your captives because of the debt owed by their family?”

His expression didn’t change. Not one twitch. That, somehow, seemed worse than anger.

“Your mouth is going to get you hurt,” he said, voice laced with promise. “But I don’t mind. I like breaking difficult things.”

Goosebumps rippled over my arms, and I hated that part of me. The part that responded not with fear but with a sharp, burning awareness. His presence wrapped around me like barbed wire. Every inch of my skin buzzed with warning.

Even though I’d lived too long in Bastion to show weakness, I still tried very hard to meet his gaze.

“If you’re expecting obedience,” I said, my voice steady despite the tremble in my chest, “you should’ve left me to rot.”

For a flicker of a second, something passed over his face. Not amusement or anger. Intrigue.

Then it was gone, like it had never existed.

“You survived Bastion,” he said after a long stretch of silence. “That means something.”

I blinked. “What?”

He looked away again, eyes fixed forward. “That you’re stronger than most. I don’t waste time on weak things.”

The praise, if it was that, didn’t comfort me.

I turned back to the window, hugging myself against the sudden chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. “You talk like everything’s a possession. Something you can keep or discard.”

He didn’t respond. But I felt him watching me now—watching me.

Not like the guards in Bastion did, eyes greedy and cruel.

Valerio watched like a predator who had already chosen his prey and was simply waiting for the right moment to strike.

My heartbeat drummed louder in my ears.

I didn’t know what terrified me more: the idea of being under his roof…or the part of me that wondered what it would feel like to truly belong to someone like him.