---
The early morning air was thick with silence, the kind that clung to your skin and made every footstep feel like betrayal. Camila Reyes moved like a shadow through the hallway, barefoot, careful not to make a sound. Every creak in the floor felt like a scream.
She had waited until just before sunrise, when the guards outside usually rotated. She'd watched them through her window the night before—memorizing their patterns like her life depended on it. Because it did.
She found the side door near the kitchen and pressed her ear against it.
Silence.
Her fingers trembled as she gripped the knob. One turn. She slipped outside, the cold stone beneath her feet sending chills up her spine.
Just a few more steps and—
A hand grabbed her wrist.
Her breath hitched.
Lucien.
Of course it was him.
"You disappoint me," he murmured, pulling her back inside. "Already?"
His voice was quiet, but dangerous.
She tried to yank her arm away. "Let go of me!"
"I don't think you understand your place yet." He didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to.
Lucien dragged her into a dim-lit lounge and shut the door behind them. The room smelled of cigars and blood money.
"You're not a guest here, Camila. You're mine. You don't get to walk away."
She glared at him. "You can keep my body locked up, but you'll never have me."
Lucien stepped closer, his face unreadable. "Oh, sweetheart. I don't need to own you to control you."
His fingers slid into her hair. Not harsh. Not gentle. His gaze dropped to her lips, then back up. "You're in my world now. Stop pretending you're not curious what that means."
Camila's pulse betrayed her. She hated how close he was. How intoxicating.
She shoved him back, breathless. "You're sick."
Lucien chuckled darkly. "Maybe. But you still ran, and now I get to punish you."
He didn't touch her again. He simply turned and said, "Dress properly. From now on, you'll accompany me everywhere. I don't trust you alone anymore."
"And if I refuse?"
He smirked. "Then I'll put you in chains instead of heels."
---
Lucien Valentini's POV
The cigar burned slow between Lucien's fingers, the scent of tobacco curling through the dim room. His patience, however, burned faster.
"Where are they?" he asked, voice calm, too calm.
A low-ranking soldier stood trembling before him. "Boss… they haven't returned from the Reyes pickup."
Lucien's gaze sharpened. "The uncle?"
The man swallowed. "They didn't go to the uncle. They went to the diner. Found the girl."
Lucien's brow twitched. "That wasn't the job."
"I know, boss," the man stammered. "They said she looked vulnerable—young, pretty. They figured they could get more by putting her in the auction. Kept it quiet. Said… said you'd never know."
Silence.
Cold and dangerous.
Lucien rose slowly. "Let me understand you clearly. My men kidnapped a girl behind my back… sold her in a black-market auction… and thought they could pocket the money for themselves?"
"They said her uncle wouldn't notice. That he's a drunk. That the girl's nobody. They planned to keep the million and make it look like the debt was still unpaid."
Lucien stared at him for a long, suffocating moment. "I see."
Without warning, his fist struck the man's gut. The body collapsed at his feet.
"I find out everything," Lucien muttered.
Turning to Matteo, he snapped, "Track the girl. Find out which broker handled the sale. And prep the car."
Within an hour, Lucien stood in the shadows of a seedy auction hall. His face unreadable.
Camila Reyes was shoved onstage like merchandise.
Lip split. Eyes wide. That fire in her gaze trying to hide her fear.
Lucien's jaw locked.
One million.
He raised his number without hesitation. The crowd gasped.
Sold.
He turned without waiting to collect her, storming out into the night.
She was his now—not because he wanted her. But because no one disrespected his name and lived.
And his men?
They would learn exactly what a million-dollar betrayal cost.
---
Later that night
The warehouse reeked of oil, sweat, and blood.
Lucien stood at the center, sleeves rolled, cigarette burning low between his fingers. Three men knelt before him—his own soldiers. Betrayers.
"You sold her behind my back," he said quietly. "Kept the money for yourselves. And you made me think the Reyes debt was still unpaid."
No one answered.
"You thought I wouldn't find out?"
One dared to speak. "We figured… the uncle was useless. No one would care."
Lucien's stare turned to ice. "You didn't just sell a girl. You stole from me. Lied to me. And paraded someone under my name without permission."
"We were just trying to make something for ourselves—"
"You mean steal from me."
A gunshot cracked the air. One man fell.
The others froze.
Lucien paced slowly. "You humiliated her in front of animals. You made her a target. That wasn't profit. That was disrespect."
Another shot. The second dropped.
Only one left. Whimpering.
"I didn't touch her," he cried. "I only drove the van!"
Lucien tilted his head. "Then you're lucky."
He turned to Matteo. "Break his legs. Leave him at the steps of her uncle's church."
Matteo nodded.
Lucien stepped outside into the chilled night air, lighting another cigarette with steady fingers.
Camila Reyes was in his world now—because of greed and betrayal.
But even now, something about her stayed in his mind.
Not just the defiance in her eyes.
But the gnawing truth that he might not let her go.
---