Cassia laughed low under her breath.
"Don't worry," she said, her voice laced with silk and poison. "I won't make you do it. Not yet."
She walked forward, slow and graceful, like she was approaching an art piece in a gallery. Her heels clicked softly against the cold floor. But she went closer to him but never within his reach.
Celina stood in the threshold, one hand gripping the edge of the frame, eyes flicking from her sister to the man in chains.
"You want to know who he is?" Cassia asked without looking back. Her tone was casual, almost light, like they were talking about a dress.
"His name is Rafael. And he's dangerous. Very dangerous."
Cassia stopped a few feet in front of him, where the dim light caught just the edge of her profile.
"He's not some random street rat. He's legacy. Rafael Derenzo, the heir to a dynasty built on silence and blood. You're not supposed to be here, are you?" Cassia added with a laugh, sharp and mocking, letting it ring in his face like a challenge.
Rafael lifted his head, his glare was unflinching and sharp enough to cut. There was no fear in him just fury, heavy and still.
Celina stared at him, frozen. Her breath caught in her throat. Rafael. She'd heard the name before. On whispers. On headlines. On tense dinners where her father said nothing and her mother changed the subject.
She hadn't known the face behind it.
Now she did.
And it terrified her.
"You see why I kept him," Cassia said, glancing back at her. "He's valuable. And stubborn. And beautiful when he's furious."
"You can't just keep a person like this," Celina said, voice cracking. "This isn't. Oh God. This isn't right."
Cassia tilted her head, smiling. "Can't I?"
Rafael shifted slightly, the sound of chains grinding against stone as his massive frame stirred. Even bloodied and bruised, he looked like a weapon forged out of flesh and fury. He was tall—broad-shouldered, thick with muscle, the kind of build that could tear through a room if he weren't shackled.
His body, though battered, spoke of brute force and relentless training. Sharp jawline shadowed with scruff, cracked lips, and matted dark hair that still managed to fall over his brow like it was meant to. And those eyes—dark, savage, locked in a permanent scowl that burned with fury. He was terrifying. He was magnificent. He was a storm caged in iron.
He was beautiful in the most terrifying way.
His voice was hoarse, but it held weight.
"I'm going to kill you both," he growled, low and certain. "Chain me, bleed me, starve me... it doesn't matter. The second I get out of here, I'll make you wish you left me dead."
Cassia smiled, utterly unbothered. "That's the spirit."
Celina didn't move. Her pulse was thudding in her ears, but her feet stayed frozen. Rafael's threat should have sent her running, but something in his voice—his certainty—held her there.
"You see why he's perfect?" Cassia asked, turning slightly toward her. "He's raw. Violent. Everything you're not."
Rafael yanked at the chains with sudden force, the sound of metal scraping violently against stone. His body tensed, chest heaving with effort and rage. "You fucking bitch!" he snarled, then suddenly spat at Cassia's face, a defiant, feral act that splattered across her cheek.
Cassia didn't flinch. She lifted her boot and drove it hard into his ribs.
The sound that came from him was guttural, but he didn't scream. He ground his teeth and twisted against the pain, eyes blazing hotter.
"Cassia turned then, her eyes falling on Celina—absolutely pale, wide-eyed, and shaking. There was no hiding the fear on her face.
"Please," Celina said, her voice barely audible. "Don't make me do this."
Cassia laughed, soft and cruel. "Do what? Hurt him? Kill him? Oh, little swan, we're not there yet."
She walked over to Celina, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek with a hand too gentle for the words that followed.
"From now on, he's yours, Celina."
She turned toward the man in chains with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Do whatever you want with him."
With that, Cassia turned on her heel and walked out, the echo of her heels fading into the dark hallway like a final command.
Celina was left alone.
Her knees weakened. Her body trembled, not from the cold, but from the sheer weight of everything. Of him. Of what this room meant. She looked at Rafael, at the tension in his shoulders, the bruises along his ribs, and the way his eyes refused to look away from her.
She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think.
Her fingers twitched at her sides, and her legs felt hollow, barely holding her up.
She was terrified.
And now, he was hers.
Celina swallowed hard. The air in the basement felt heavier, thicker, and she couldn't tear her eyes away from him. Rafael hadn't moved. Not really. But the weight of his stare pinned her in place, made her feel exposed.
Her hands trembled as she took one shaky step backward, her back hitting the wall behind her. The cold seeped through her thin clothes, grounding her in the moment even as everything inside her wanted to run. like she needed something solid to stay upright.
Rafael didn't speak. He just watched her, like a predator waiting for weakness. His breaths were steady, but the fury in his eyes hadn't dimmed. If anything, it had sharpened.
Celina opened her mouth, but no words came out. What could she say?
"I didn't ask for this..." she finally whispered, the words escaping like smoke.
But even as she said it, she felt the weight of what Cassia had left behind—a man, a chain, and a choice she wasn't ready to make.
Rafael let out a low, broken laugh, followed by a cough that made him wince. "You didn't ask for it?" he rasped. "That's what they all say... right before they look the other way. You're just like them. Wrapped in silk, blind to the blood beneath your feet."