All through breakfast, my mind refused to calm down.
*Who is this boss guy? Why did Jamo suddenly look terrified? What did "Is this her?" even mean?*
There was no way I could stay here for long.
"Oh God… help me, please," I whispered to myself.
When the meal ended, I didn't even know if I was allowed to stand up.
I kept imagining that if I moved wrong, I'd get in trouble.
So I sat there—still, stiff, staring at my plate like it held the secrets of life.
I didn't dare look anyone in the eye… but I accidentally peeked at the boss.
And he noticed.
"What's your name?" he asked, expression blank but disappointed.
"Umm… Kira. Kira Elanor," I said, my voice shaking more than I wanted.
He stared at me intensely…
Then he stood up and left.
Just like that.
All the men exchanged sharp looks. Then one of them muttered:
"He never leaves first."
Another one whispered, "Who the f— is this girl?"
And another groaned, "Oh God, we're doomed."
They all got up and left too—leaving me alone in a place that wasn't even on the map of my life.
Annoyed and confused, I followed them. I needed answers.
But as soon as they reached Jamo's room, they all filed in and slammed the door in my face.
Great.
I sat beside the door, waiting.
Eventually, the others came out—everyone except Jamo.
After five minutes of silence, I pushed the door open slowly and slipped inside.
**JAMO'S DUNGEON**
I didn't see him at first.
Then I heard it—the faint sound of water dripping behind the bathroom door.
Okay… so Jamo was showering.
But something else caught my eye.
His katana.
A tall, sleek, customized, impossibly cool katana hanging on the wall.
My soul left my body.
I'd always wanted one, but how do you ask royal parents for a weapon?
Before I knew it, I was holding it… swinging it… fighting imaginary demons like a seasoned warrior.
So of course I didn't notice when Jamo walked in.
He stood there.
Just… stood.
Staring.
When I turned for the final dramatic slash, I froze.
Jamo was there.
Fresh out of the shower.
Water dripping down his toned chest, over his abs, down the tattoos on his arms.
Now **I** was staring.
And he knew it.
He walked towards me—only a towel tied around his waist—placed his hands gently on my shoulders, and walked me out of the room.
Then he closed the door.
God, I couldn't breathe.
Was I actually falling for one of the men who kidnapped me?
I waited outside for him to dress so we could finally *talk*.
Or at least so I could pretend I came for answers and not… whatever that was.
Ten minutes passed.
Too long.
I knocked.
Waited.
Knocked again.
Waited.
Repeated like a lost puppy.
And I did all of this with my back resting on the door.
Which is EXACTLY why, when he finally opened it… I fell straight onto him.
Literally.
He caught me so I wouldn't hit the floor.
My entire soul left my body from embarrassment.
He helped me stand properly, pulled me into the room, and closed the door behind us.
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