BOUND BY DECEIT

CHAPTER FOUR

SLOANE’S POV

The men’s grips were hard and tight like iron shackles around my arms as they dragged me down the dimly lit corridor. My barefoot scraped against the floor, but I didn’t resist. Struggling would only make me look weak. And showing weakness in a place like this? It was a death sentence.

Luca follows right beside us as they dragged me down to his man cave, his very own torture chamber. Walking with a leisure pace, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. He wasn't in a rush. No, he was enjoying this. The slow unraveling. The way I had no idea where they were taking me all brought him a sense of satisfaction.

I detest that I can feel his gaze burning straight into my sides, like a sharp blade.

The hallway extended long and narrow, the walls lined with so many closed doors. Some are locked. Some slightly ajar, revealing glimpses of things I didn't want to see. A blinking light overhead buzzed, casting unsettling shadows as they passed.

The rush of blood roared in my head, but my face remained unemotional. Think, Sloan. Come up with something.

I need a plan. Fast.

The two men holding me were built like soldiers, one broad was a jagged scar cutting through his eyebrows, the other one looking lean but just as lethal. Both armed and dangerous.

I could take them down if I wasn't tied up like a damn hostage that I am.

We reached a large still door at the end of the corridor. Damian moved straight ahead, punching in a code on the keypad before yanking it open.

A cold draft hit me as we all stepped inside. Fully realizing we were, my stomach drops.

It was a basement. A concrete cell with a single chair in the center, metal cuffs hanging from its arms. No windows. No exits.

I am so screwed.

A scary looking man with a large scar on his right eyebrow shoves me forward. I stumbled forward but caught myself before hitting the chair.

Luca stepped in, moving like a predator taking his time with wounded prey.

"Sit," he said simply.

I don’t make a move.

His head angled to the side, his dark eyes blazing with amusement . "That wasn't a suggestion, solnyshko."

My teeth clenched. "Don't call me that."

Luca smirked. "Why? Does it remind you of home?"

My blood runs hot, but I school my features. Don't react. He only wants a reaction. I tell myself.

When I still didn't make a move, Luca let out a quiet chuckle and nodded at his men.

A hard shove sends me crashing into the chair, with the metal cuffs snapping around my wrist, too tight. I press my teeth into the inside of my cheeks, refusing to give out a single emotion.

Luca crouches in front of me, with his elbows braced on his knees, his gaze sharp and assessing.

He wasn't too close. Too close that I could see the fleck of brown in his irises, close enough to smell the faint trace of his musky expensive cologne.

"You're going to tell me everything," he said smoothly.

I meet his gaze, as I announce with a calm and steady voice. "I already told you. I work at your club."

Luca sighs, shaking his head. “Sloane, you see, you had every possible way to make this easy, but you keep choosing not to.”

Not taking his eyes off me, he calls Damian.

“Pass me my very special knife.”

My breath hitches as his thumb brushes along the blade testing its sharpness. The harsh overhead light above caught the edge, making it gleam.

"You know," he mused, “pain always has a very special way of making people honest.”

I force a smile. "And here I thought you were the charming type."

Luca chuckles. "Oh, I can be. But only when I want to be."

His fingers closed around my chin, tilting my face slightly. Studying me like I was a puzzle.

“Who are you really? Sloane Ivanovo?” He asks, in a low voice.

I look straight into his eyes, not blinking. “Why don’t you do well on educating me, since you seem to have all the answers?”

His grip tightened for a second before he let me go, learning back as he twirled the knife between his fingers. "Fine. Let's play my favorite game."

I stayed silent.

“I’ll ask a question. If I don't like your answer” He pressed the tip of the knife against my thigh, not enough to break my skin. Just enough to let me feel.

He smirked. "How's that for stakes?"

I lift a brow. "Sounds boring."

Lucas' amusement didn't fade. If anything, it deepened.

"First question." He taps the blade against my knee. "Why were you in my office?"

My mind starts racing. Stick to the story Sloane. Give him something just enough to make him think he's winning.

"I told you. Money."

The knife trailed up my thigh, slow and teasing.

"Lie."

I swallow hard.

Luca tilted his head. "What were you really looking for?"

I hesitate. Just for a second.

His eyes darkened. "That's two lies."

And then, a cold sting.

The blade barely kissed my skin, but it was enough to make her flinch.

"f**k!, you're a crazy man," I spat.

Luca grinned. "That’s not an accurate answer, solnyshko."

He leaned in, close enough that I could feel his mint breath against my cheek. "Last chance Sloane."

I inhale deeply, forcing myself to relax. He is testing me. Watching me like a hawk.

Fine. I’ll let him have the satisfaction.

"You want the truth?" I murmur.

Luca's smirk didn't waver. "Always."

I lean forward, just enough to make him notice. Then, I smile. "I don't get scared easily."

A beat of silence.

Then, Luca bursts into a sarcastic laugh. Low and dark. "That," he said, standing, "is the first honest thing you've said all night."

He turned to Damian. "Leave her here. She'll talk eventually."

Damian nods. The men unshackled my wrists but kept the chains around her ankles. Just enough freedom to move, nowhere near enough to escape.

Luca glances back at me, his gaze unreadable. "Sleep well, Sloane."

Then, he walked out.

The heavy door slammed shut.

I exhaled slowly, flexing my wrists. The faint sting of the blade lingered, but I ignored it. I could handle pain. What I can’t handle is the fact that Luca is getting too close.

Too close to the truth.

I need to get out.

Now.