Bought by the underworld CEO

Chapter 07 ( The Betrayal )

Zoya was running... running away from everything... just running...

She didn’t know where she was. She didn’t know where she was going. She just kept running, her bare feet slapping against unfamiliar pavement.

Her lungs burned. Her legs screamed. She was exhausted and starving at the same time, because she hadn’t eaten dinner last night. The adrenaline from the gate had worn off, leaving only hollow nausea.

She stumbled to a stop under the shade of a gnarled tree, its branches hanging low like skeletal fingers. She collapsed against the trunk, chest heaving, and rested there for a while. Sweat dripped down her back, soaking her T-shirt .

_Think, Zoya. Think._

She was lucky. She could speak a lot of languages. Urdu, Punjabi, Arabic, Chinese, Korean, Japanese, French,Persion and also English. English was one of them. That was her only weapon right now.

An old woman walked past with a shopping bag. Zoya forced herself up, throat raw. "Excuse me," she said in English, trying to sound calm. "Could you tell me where the police station is?"

The woman pointed down the street, eyes narrowing at Zoya’s bare feet and disheveled hair. Zoya didn’t wait for questions. She walked there, each step feeling like she was walking on glass. Hope was a dangerous thing.

---

*At the police station*

The air smelled like stale coffee and disinfectant. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.

Zoya walked up to the front desk, hands shaking. "I need help," she said. "A man named Ares Blackwood... he kept me as a prisoner. He won’t let me go.I just escaped from him ."

The desk sergeant, a balding man with tired eyes, looked up slowly. He set his pen down. "Ares Blackwood?"

Zoya nodded, desperate. "Yes. Please, you have to—"

The sergeant leaned back and laughed. Not unkind, but dismissive. Like she’d told a bad joke. "Miss, do you know who Ares Blackwood is?"

In the eyes of society, Ares Blackwood was an angel. He did social work. He funded orphanages. He did charity galas that made the news every month. He gave poor students scholarships and jobs in his companies. Even his competitors couldn’t say anything bad about him. To them, he was a decent man. A philanthropist. A genius.

In the past, anyone who reported him was dismissed as chasing fame. A blogger once accused him of tax fraud — she was sued into bankruptcy within a week. A businessman claimed Ares stole his company — he vanished from Country A.

So the police were suspicious of the girl.

"ID card?" the sergeant asked. "Passport?"

Zoya’s stomach dropped. "He took them," she whispered. "He took everything. My passport, my ID, my papers."

The sergeant’s expression hardened. Now the police suspected her — a foreigner — of living here illegally. No papers, wild accusations against Country A’s golden boy.

"Did he torture you?" a female officer asked, stepping closer. "Beat you? Starve you?"

Zoya shook her head. "No. He didn’t... not physically."

The officer exchanged a look with the sergeant. They suspected she was lying. No bruises. No scars. Just a pretty, hysterical foreign girl.

But Zoya kept insisting. "He’s not a good person. He chained me to a bed. He told me I can’t leave. He has my passport so I can’t go home. Please, you have to believe me."

One police officer, younger, with a crew cut, stepped away from the desk. He pulled out his phone. "I’ll just... verify a few things," he said.

Zoya watched him walk into a back room. Her heart pounded. _He’s calling Ares. He’s calling him._

---

*Ares’s Call*

Ares was in his study when his phone rang. Private line. He saw the police precinct number and answered.

"Mr. Blackwood, sir. This is Officer Klein from the 4th Precinct. We have a situation. A young woman is here. She’s saying you... imprisoned her."

Ares leaned back in his leather chair. A slow, devilish smile spread across his lips. He took a sip of whiskey.

"Ah," he said, voice dripping with amused affection. "She’s basically my girlfriend. Zoya. She’s dramatic."

Officer Klein frowned. "Sir?"

"She demanded a diamond necklace from Bvlgari. The new serpentine collection. I forgot about it yesterday because of the board meeting. She threw a tantrum and said she’d report me to the police and claim I imprisoned her." Ares chuckled. "Women, right?"

The officer relaxed. There had never been any news about Ares’s partner or girlfriend. He was famously private. This tracked.

Ares’s voice turned pleading, soft. "She’s angry with me, so she won’t come home. Officer, could you do me a favor? Just tell her you’re going to arrest me. Tell her she has to come with you to identify me. She’ll come back then. Please. I just want her safe."

Officer Klein felt important. Ares Blackwood was asking _him_ for help. "Of course, sir. We’ll bring her home."

"Thank you," Ares said. "You’re a good man. And yeah don't tell her or else she won't come back. "

He hung up and stared at his phone. The smile died. His eyes went flat. Cold.

---

*The Betrayal*

Officer Klein walked back out. He whispered into his fellow officers ear that I spoke to Mr. Blackwood."

"He says this is a misunderstanding. A lover’s quarrel over a necklace." Klein tried to sound kind. "He’s worried about her and requested us to bring her home.

Zoya was thinking what they are whispering about?

"He said to his fellow officer we need to say this so she'll come back with us willingly.

The other officer nodded and went along.

" Klein said, "Miss we will arrest him. So please,Come with us. So we can identify him ."

Zoya looked at the two officers, at the front door, at the street. She could run again. But to where? No passport. No money. No country. She don't want to go back to that place but she had to go back to have her stuff and make sure police arrest that Aers Blackwood.

Defeated, she nodded.

The drive back to the penthouse was silent. Zoya stared out the window, feeling like she was being driven to her own funeral.

---

*Back in the Cage*

The penthouse doors opened. Ares was waiting in the foyer.

He walked in and pulled Zoya into a hug, playing the part perfectly for the officers. "Babe," he murmured against her hair, "how could you be angry with me over a stupid necklace? Forget that one. I’ll buy you an even better necklace than that. The biggest one they have."

Zoya went rigid in his arms. She was shocked by his convincing act, by how easily he wore the mask of a doting boyfriend. Her skin crawled where he touched her.

Ares pulled back and gave her a heartbroken look. Then he gestured to the maids. "Take Miss Zoya to her room. She must be tired after all this."

Zoya snapped out of it. Terror flooded her veins. She looked back at the police officers for help, eyes screaming. She struggled against the maids’ hands. "No! Please, don’t—"

But the maids were strong. They were trained. They quickly took her upstairs, half-dragging her, and locked the door from the outside. The _click_ of the lock was a death sentence.

Downstairs, Ares ran a hand through his hair and gave the officers an embarrassed, sheepish smile. "I’m so sorry for causing you trouble, gentlemen. She’s... passionate. You know how it is."

He walked to his safe, pulled out a thick envelope of cash, and handed it to Klein and his fellow officers . "For your time. And please... don’t tell anyone I have a girlfriend. She wouldn’t be comfortable with the media and paparazzi. You guys understand."

The police were completely convinced by Ares’s act. They took the money. They didn’t dig into it because they thought it was a lover’s quarrel. Ares Blackwood also had a great reputation. No one had ever succeeded in digging up dirt on him. Who were they to question Country A’s prince?

The police officers left. The moment the main gate locked behind them with a final, heavy _thud_, Ares’s expression shattered.

The polite smile vanished. The warmth in his eyes died. His face twisted into something raw — frustration, rage, and something darker. Possession.

He stood in the silent foyer for a full minute, just breathing. Then, slowly, he looked upstairs. Toward her room.

He started walking up, each step echoing in the silence. Unhurried. Inevitable.

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

_End of Chapter 7_

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