Chapter Seven – Bound Without Chains
830 Words
I was a prisoner before.
Now, I’m something worse.
His.
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The room is silent except for the ragged sound of my breathing. My lips still burn from the brutal claim Leo left on them, and my pulse hasn’t slowed since the moment he forced me to choose.
I told myself I would never bend to him. Never break.
But now, my sister’s life dangles in his hands like a toy, and I—Alee Sophia Evans, investigative journalist, fighter, survivor—am powerless.
My fate was sealed the second I whispered that one word.
Yours.
Leo leans back against the desk, arms crossed, watching me with that infuriating smirk. He looks at me like I’m already conquered, a piece of art he’s claimed with his name etched into the frame.
“Good girl,” he says again, his voice smooth as silk, and I feel my stomach twist.
I hate the way those words make my body tense, how he makes something dark and primal stir inside me—something I don’t want to name.
I bite my lip, shoving the feeling down. “You got what you wanted. Now let my sister go.”
His eyes gleam, amused. “Oh, sweetheart. That wasn’t the deal.”
Rage surges up my throat. “You said—”
“I said she’d be safe,” he cuts in smoothly. “And she will be.” His smirk widens. “As long as you behave.”
My blood runs cold.
Leo moves forward, his movements slow, deliberate. He kneels in front of me, fingers curling beneath my chin, tilting my face up.
“You belong to me now, Alee,” he murmurs. “The sooner you accept it, the easier this will be.”
I clench my jaw, refusing to let my fear show.
“I will never be yours.”
Leo exhales, as if I’ve disappointed him. His thumb brushes over my bottom lip, the same one he just kissed—stole—and my whole body goes rigid.
Then, he leans in. Not touching. Just close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from him.
“You already are.”
His voice is so dark, so sure, that I feel my stomach drop.
I need to get out of here.
I wrench my face away from his touch, my breathing shaky. “What do you want from me?”
Leo chuckles, standing up, towering over me once more. “Oh, little dove. You should be asking what I won’t take.”
A shiver races down my spine.
Leo watches me for a long moment, then straightens, adjusting the cuffs of his black dress shirt. “Get some rest,” he says casually. “Tomorrow, we start your training.”
My brow furrows. “Training?”
His smirk is pure sin. “Did you think I’d just keep you locked in a room, darling? No. You’re going to learn how to play your role.”
My heart pounds. “And what role is that?”
Leo leans in one last time, his breath warm against my ear.
“My queen.”
I go still, horror chilling my blood.
Leo pulls back, studying my reaction. “You look surprised.”
I glare at him. “I’d rather die.”
He chuckles, dark and amused. “That’s what they all say in the beginning.”
Before I can spit another insult, the door swings open, and a man walks in. Broad shoulders, slicked-back hair, a scar running down his cheek.
Luca.
Leo’s right-hand man.
Luca’s sharp blue eyes flicker to me, then back to Leo. “Everything is in place.”
Leo nods, satisfied. “Good.” He turns to me. “Be a good girl, Alee. I’d hate for Ellie to suffer because of your stubbornness.”
Something inside me snaps.
I lunge at him, but Luca catches me midair, locking my arms behind my back before I can even land a hit.
Leo just laughs, shaking his head. “So much fight.” He steps forward, his fingers tracing my jaw. “It’ll be fun breaking you.”
I spit at him.
Leo stills.
The amusement in his eyes vanishes, replaced by something dangerous.
Luca mutters a curse, holding me tighter.
Leo lifts a hand—and for a second, I think he’s going to strike me. But instead, he grabs my chin, hard, forcing me to look up at him.
“You’ll regret that, little dove.” His voice is ice-cold.
Then he steps back, fixing his cuffs as if I’m nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “Luca, take her downstairs.”
Luca nods, already dragging me toward the door.
Panic spikes through me. “No—let go of me!”
But it’s useless.
Leo watches as I thrash, his expression unreadable.
“See you soon, sweetheart.”
The door slams shut behind me.
And I know, with sickening certainty—
This is only the beginning.
- Writer
