Bound By Power

Chapter 2

A Taste of Control

Emilia stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, trying to calm her trembling hands. The exhaustion from the previous night weighed heavily on her, making her look pale and drained. Dark circles had formed under her eyes, and her usually soft brown hair was tangled from tossing and turning in bed.

Her mind raced with what was about to come. Breakfast with Adrian De Luca. The man who owned her now. The man who had bought her like a piece of furniture.

She ran her fingers through her hair, attempting to smooth it down, but it was no use. Every part of her was on edge. She brushed up, had her bath, and was out of the bathroom. A sick feeling twisted in her stomach as she reached for the white dress that had been laid out for her. It was simple, elegant, and far too expensive for her to ever have worn in her previous life. The fabric felt foreign against her skin as she slipped it on.

She took a deep breath. “You can do this,” she whispered to herself. “Just survive.”

Just like that Emilia was ready, she left her room and headed toward the dining room

The walk down the long corridors to the dining room felt like a death march. Her bare feet padded softly on the cold marble floors, and with every step, her anxiety grew. The mansion was as beautiful as it was suffocating. Every corner of it was immaculate, grandiose, and utterly lifeless. Just like him.

When she arrived at the dining room, the doors were already open. Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows, casting a warm glow over the elegant room. A long table stretched out before her, covered with silverware, fine china, and platters of food that looked too perfect to touch.

Adrian sat at the head of the table, reading a newspaper. His presence dominated the room, though he didn’t seem to notice her at first. He was dressed in another tailored suit, his dark hair slicked back, every movement of his deliberate, controlled. There was an aura of quiet menace around him.

For a moment, Emilia stood frozen in the doorway, unsure of what to do. She had never been in a situation like this before, and the weight of her helplessness settled over her like a heavy cloak.

He glanced up, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “You’re late,” he said, his voice low, but there was an edge to it. He folded the newspaper neatly and set it aside, motioning for her to sit.

“I’m sorry,” Emilia whispered as she walked toward the seat across from him, her legs shaky. She quickly sat down, feeling small and vulnerable under his gaze.

Adrian’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing more about her tardiness. Instead, he gestured toward the food on the table. “Eat.”

Emilia looked at the lavish spread in front of her—croissants, eggs, breadsticks, fresh fruit, bacon, and pastries. The smell of the food made her stomach churn, but she knew she had to force something down. She picked up a croissant and nibbled on it, her throat tight.

Adrian studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. He didn’t eat. He simply watched her, like a predator observing its prey. The silence between them was thick, heavy with unspoken tension.

“Do you know why you’re here?” he asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.

Emilia swallowed, the croissant feeling like sandpaper in her mouth. She wasn’t sure how to answer. Of course, she knew the surface reason—her father’s debts, the deal that had sold her off—but she had a feeling there was more to it.

“I—I know it’s because of my father,” she managed to say, keeping her voice as steady as she could. “But why me?”

Adrian leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him. “Your father owed a significant amount of money to people he shouldn’t have crossed. He gambled away more than he could ever repay. Yes, that’s right, your father was a gambler, and When the time came to collect, he offered you as collateral.”

Emilia felt her stomach drop. She had known her father was reckless, but hearing it laid out so bluntly sent a wave of nausea through her. “But why did you—” She hesitated, unsure if she wanted to finish the question. “Why did you buy me?”

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze fixed on her. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, but there was a dangerous edge beneath it. “Because I could.”

The words sent a shiver down her spine. She wanted to scream at him, to demand an explanation, but she knew it would be pointless. Adrian De Luca wasn’t the kind of man who cared about explanations. He did what he wanted because no one could stop him.

“You’re mine now,” Adrian continued, his voice soft but firm. “Your life, your choices, everything is mine. You’ll do as I say when I say it. Do you understand?”

Emilia’s heart raced. She forced herself to meet his gaze, though it took every ounce of courage she had. “And if I don’t?”

A faint smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “we’ve talked about this, you wouldn’t want to find out what will happen to you trust me, there’s a line you shouldn’t cross, you just follow my rules and you will stay on the safe side of the line.”

The threat was clear. She felt the walls closing in on her, the weight of her captivity pressing down on her chest. She had no way out, no power, no control. She was trapped, and there was nothing she could do to change that.

The rest of breakfast passed in silence. Adrian didn’t speak again, and Emilia didn’t dare ask any more questions. She ate as much as she could manage, though her appetite had long since disappeared. Every bite felt like a reminder of her helplessness.

When the meal was over, Adrian stood up without a word and left the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall. Emilia watched him go, her mind spinning with everything that had just happened. She had no idea what kind of life she was about to live, but one thing was clear—Adrian De Luca owned her, and there was no escaping it.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Emilia wandered through the mansion, exploring its vast halls and rooms, but there was little comfort to be found in the luxury surrounding her. Every corner of the house reminded her of her captivity. The grandeur only heightened her sense of isolation.

The staff were polite but distant, keeping their interactions with her to a minimum. It was clear that they were used to following Adrian’s orders without question. She could see the fear in their eyes, the same fear that gnawed at her insides. No one crossed Adrian De Luca—not even his employees.

As the sun began to set, Emilia found herself standing in front of a large window overlooking the estate’s gardens. The view was breathtaking—the perfectly manicured lawns, the rows of rose bushes in full bloom, the fountain that sparkled in the fading light. It was the kind of place that should have been peaceful and serene. But all Emilia could feel was a deep sense of dread.

She rested her forehead against the cool glass, closing her eyes. For a moment, she allowed herself to think about the life she had lost. The small apartment she had shared with her father, the part-time job at the bakery, and the simple dreams she had once had. All of it was gone now. She was a prisoner in a gilded cage, and there was no way out.

The sound of footsteps behind her made her jump. She turned quickly, her heart pounding, only to see Adrian standing in the doorway. His expression was unreadable, as always.

“It’s time,” he said.

Emilia frowned, confused. “Time for what?”

Adrian’s gaze darkened, and for the first time, she saw something flicker in his eyes—something dangerous. “Time for you to learn what happens when you disobey me.”

Her stomach dropped. “What—what do you mean? I haven’t—”

“You were late this morning,” he interrupted, his voice cold. “I gave you ten minutes. You took fifteen.”

Panic surged through her. “I—I didn’t realize—”

“I don’t tolerate disobedience, Emilia. Just because I let it slide yesterday doesn’t mean you can come whenever you want.” His voice was calm, but the menace in it was unmistakable. “I warned you.”

Before she could react, Adrian crossed the room in a few swift strides, his hand closing around her wrist. His grip was firm, but not painful—yet. He pulled her toward him, his dark eyes boring into hers.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. “And you will learn to obey.”

Emilia’s heart raced. She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. Fear pulsed through her, cold and sharp. She had no idea what he was going to do, but she knew it wasn’t going to be good.

“Let me go,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Adrian’s smile was cold. “Not until you understand what it means to belong to me.”

The next few moments passed in a blur. Adrian pulled her through the mansion, down a series of long, dark corridors, until they reached a door at the far end of the hall. He opened it without a word, revealing a dimly lit room that was starkly different from the rest of the house.

The room was bare, except for a single chair in the center. The walls were cold, gray stone, and the air inside was frigid. Emilia’s breath hitched in her throat as she was pushed inside, the door closing behind her with a heavy thud.

Adrian stood in the doorway, his eyes locked on hers. “You’ll stay here until I decide you’ve learned your lesson