The heavy door slammed shut behind me, and the metallic click of the lock made my skin crawl.
I stumbled backward, scanning the enormous room. Velvet curtains hung over tall windows, chandeliers glowed overhead, and a four-poster bed dominated the center. Beautiful, yes—but no matter how pretty it looked, it wasn't a bedroom.
It was a prison.
I rushed to the door, yanking the handle until my hands ached. It didn't budge. My fists pounded against the wood. "Let me out! You can't keep me here!"
Silence.
I pressed my forehead against the door, chest heaving—until a sound sliced through the stillness.
A scream.
Muffled at first, then sharper, more desperate. A man's voice, broken by agony. Metal clanged, flesh cracked, and the scream tore through the walls until it cut off abruptly.
My blood went cold. My stomach lurched.
I staggered back, hitting the edge of the bed. What kind of place is this?
The lock turned. The door swung open.
And he stepped inside.
Adrian Moretti.
His black shirt sleeves were rolled to the elbows, his collar undone. His knuckles were raw, blood smeared across them. He looked dangerous. Ruthless.
And disturbingly handsome.
His sharp jawline caught the light, his dark hair slicked back perfectly, his broad frame filling the doorway. A face carved too beautifully for someone so merciless. The kind of man women probably dreamed about.
But not me.
The sight of him only made me sick. Because behind that perfect exterior was a monster who thought he could buy and own lives like toys.
"You heard." His deep voice was calm, casual, like he was asking if I'd heard the weather.
My throat tightened. "What… what did you do to him?"
Adrian shut the door, locking it again. He walked closer, slow and deliberate, each step echoing like a threat.
"I gave him what he deserved."
My heart hammered. "You tortured him."
He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. "If that's what you want to call it."
Fury rose hot in my chest, cutting through my fear. "You're disgusting. A monster."
His expression sharpened instantly. In two strides he was in front of me, his fingers circling my wrist, squeezing just enough to sting. His cold eyes bore into mine.
"Careful with your words, Stacy."
My breath caught. My name.
Shock tore through me. "How… how do you know my name?"
His lips curved into a cruel smirk. "I know everything that belongs to me."
Hate flared inside me, stronger than the fear. "I'll never belong to you," I spat, jerking my hand off his grip.
For the first time, something flickered in his gaze—amusement, maybe. His smirk deepened. "You'll learn."
He released me suddenly, stepping back. I rubbed my wrist where his fingers had dug in, glaring at him with all the hatred I could summon.
Adrian adjusted his cuff, his voice cold and final. "You'll stay here until I say otherwise. Try the door again, and you'll regret it."
I wanted to scream at him, curse him, claw his face—but my throat locked around the words. My hands trembled, fists tightening as rage coiled in my chest, suffocating me.
He turned to leave, pausing only to give me one last look over his shoulder. His smirk was sharp enough to cut. "Sweet dreams, Stacy."
The lock clicked behind him, leaving me in the silence of the golden cage.
And in that silence, I made myself a promise.
I would never fall for him.
I would never forgive him.
I would never stop hating Adrian Moretti.