Chaper 2-Part 1
1308 Words
The first thing Alessia noticed when she woke up was the silence.
Not the normal kind.
Not the quiet hum of a city apartment or the distant traffic that always seemed to exist somewhere in the background.
This silence was heavier.
Thicker.
Like the world had been muted.
For several seconds she kept her eyes closed, her mind hovering in that strange space between sleep and consciousness where memories hadn’t caught up yet.
Then everything rushed back.
The apartment.
The man.
The crash outside.
The car.
Her eyes opened instantly.
Her body tensed as adrenaline surged through her veins.
She sat up too quickly, the movement sending a brief wave of dizziness through her head.
The room around her slowly came into focus.
Large.
Dim.
Stone walls.
A single tall window covered by heavy black curtains.
The bed she sat on was enormous—far larger than anything that would fit in her small apartment—and the sheets beneath her hands were cool, soft, and expensive.
Too expensive.
This wasn’t some abandoned warehouse or cheap motel.
Which meant whoever brought her here had resources.
A lot of them.
Alessia’s breathing slowed deliberately.
Panic wouldn’t help her now.
She forced herself to assess the situation like a problem in a courtroom.
Observe.
Analyze.
Adapt.
Her wrists were free.
That was the first surprise.
The plastic restraints from earlier were gone.
She turned her hands slowly, checking for bruising. Thin red marks circled her wrists where they had been tightened, but nothing worse.
Interesting.
If they were planning to keep her restrained constantly…
they wouldn’t have removed them.
Unless—
A soft click sounded somewhere behind her.
Alessia’s head snapped toward the door.
It opened slowly.
And Adrian Cross stepped inside.
He looked exactly the same as he had the night before.
Dark coat gone now, replaced by a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up slightly.
His hair was still damp from rain—or maybe a shower—and his expression remained unreadable.
Calm.
Controlled.
Like none of this was unusual.
Their eyes met.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Then Alessia broke the silence.
“Where am I?”
Adrian closed the door behind him.
“Safe.”
Her jaw tightened.
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I know.”
He moved further into the room, stopping a few feet from the bed.
The lighting cast faint shadows across the sharp angles of his face.
Up close again, she could see the small scar near his jawline she hadn’t noticed before.
Another detail to remember.
“You’ve been unconscious for six hours,” he said.
“I wasn’t unconscious.”
“Sedated.”
Her stomach dropped.
“What?”
“You fought more than expected.”
The memory of the needle prick near her arm flashed through her mind.
The car.
The dizziness.
Darkness.
Rage sparked instantly.
“You drugged me?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re just admitting that like it’s nothing?”
Adrian studied her quietly.
“It was necessary.”
Alessia swung her legs off the bed and stood.
The room was larger than she first realized—nearly the size of her entire apartment living area.
A thick rug covered the stone floor.
There was a small sitting area near the window.
A heavy wooden desk against the wall.
This wasn’t a prison cell.
It looked like a private suite.
Which made it even more unsettling.
“You kidnapped me,” she said.
“Yes.”
“You restrained me.”
“Yes.”
“You drugged me.”
“Yes.”
Her frustration surged.
“Do you only know one word?”
Adrian tilted his head slightly.
“I know many.”
“Then try explaining why I’m here.”
“You already know why.”
Alessia crossed her arms.
“Because of my father.”
“Yes.”
“And what exactly do you people plan to do with me?”
“Keep you here.”
“For how long?”
Adrian didn’t answer.
Her stomach tightened.
“That wasn’t rhetorical.”
“Until negotiations are finished.”
Negotiations.
That word again.
“So I’m a hostage.”
“Yes.”
At least he wasn’t pretending otherwise.
Alessia walked slowly across the room toward the window.
Adrian didn’t stop her.
Interesting.
She pulled one of the heavy curtains aside.
Her breath caught slightly.
The view outside was nothing like the city she expected.
Instead of streets and buildings, dense forest stretched endlessly beyond a tall iron fence.
Morning light filtered through the trees, pale and cold.
No nearby houses.
No people.
Nothing.
Wherever they were…
It was isolated.
Very isolated.
Behind her, Adrian spoke again.
“You won’t escape.”
She let the curtain fall back into place.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“You sound very confident.”
“I am.”
Alessia turned back toward him slowly.
“Is that because you think I’m helpless?”
“No.”
That answer surprised her.
“Then why?”
“Because this place was built to keep people in.”
A chill slid through her spine.
“How comforting.”
Adrian didn’t react to the sarcasm.
Instead he moved toward the desk and placed something on its surface.
A tray.
Food.
Coffee.
Water.
The smell reached her a second later.
Her stomach betrayed her with a quiet growl.
She hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning.
Adrian noticed.
“Eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You are.”
“I said—”
Her stomach growled again.
Louder.
Adrian’s expression didn’t change, but something faintly amused flickered in his eyes.
Alessia glared at him.
“This doesn’t mean I’m cooperating.”
“It means you’re human.”
She hesitated.
Then walked toward the desk.
If she refused food entirely, she would only weaken herself.
And if she was going to escape…
she needed strength.
Alessia sat down slowly and picked up the fork.
Adrian remained standing across the room, watching.
Not staring in a predatory way.
More like he was observing behavior.
Studying.
She hated that.
“You’re doing it again,” she said.
“Doing what?”
“Watching me like I’m a science experiment.”
Adrian considered that.
“Observation is useful.”
“You’re not a scientist.”
“No.”
“Then stop studying me.”
“No.”
Her jaw tightened again.
She took a bite of food just to stop herself from saying something reckless.
The silence stretched for several seconds.
Then a new voice spoke from the doorway.
“Well…”
Alessia froze.
Because the voice did not belong to Adrian.
It was older.
Smooth.
Dangerously calm.
“And here she is.”
Alessia slowly turned her head.
A tall man stood in the open doorway, dressed in an immaculate charcoal suit.
Silver threaded through his dark hair at the temples.
His posture carried the kind of effortless authority that came from years of commanding rooms.
His eyes settled on her with quiet interest.
Marcus Valente.
Even without being introduced…
she knew.
He smiled slightly.
“Miss Vale.”
Alessia felt her pulse spike again.
Marcus stepped into the room slowly, his gaze never leaving her face.
“I must say,” he continued calmly, “you’re far more composed than most people in your situation.”
Alessia set the fork down.
“If you’re expecting me to panic…”
Marcus chuckled softly.
“I’m expecting you to be intelligent.”
His eyes flicked briefly toward Adrian.
“You chose well.”
Adrian said nothing.
Marcus turned back to Alessia.
“Welcome to my home.”
The words felt like ice sliding down her spine.
Because something about the way he said them made one thing very clear.
This wasn’t temporary.
Not to him.
- Writer
