ARIA
Two days Later
A few days have passed since my abduction but sleep doesn't come easily when you're in a cell. The cot makes creaking sound with every movement. I feel like I've been trapped in this place for a what feels like an eternity.
I've counted every crack in the ceiling, memorized every water stain. Anything to keep my mind off what might happen to me next
Dad, what did you do?
The question haunts me. Three million dollars. It seems impossible. My father, who clips coupons and drives a ten-year-old Camry. Who worked a lot to put me through college. Who taught me that honesty matters more than money.
Was it all a lie?
The door slammed open, jerking me awake. Light flooded the room, burning my eyes.
"Get up."
I blinked against the harsh fluorescents. Cassian the boss as I learned yesterday stood in the doorway, blocking any chance of escape. Not that I hadn't tried. The bruises on my knees from yesterday's attempt were proof enough.
"I said get up."
I pushed myself off the cot reluctantly, my legs shaking. Five days. Five days of this same routine. The same cold concrete under my feet, same oversized clothes that weren't mine, same man watching my every move.
"You took your time," he remarked when I finally emerged out of the room.
He stepped aside, waiting. I walked past him into the hallway, keeping as much distance as possible. My shoulder still ached from where he'd grabbed me yesterday.
"Move."
We didn't go to the common room this time. Instead, he steered me down an unfamiliar corridor, stopping at a heavy wooden door..
The room was larger than I expected. It had a desk, chairs, and filing cabinets. Almost normal, except for the bars on the windows and the gun sitting casually next to his laptop.
"Sit."
I crossed my arms. "No."
His expression didn't change. He closed the distance in two steps, towering over me.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way."
"Fuck you."
He caught my wrist before I could swing. Twisted until I gasped, then pushed me into the chair.
"Have you eaten?" he then asked as if he hadn't just tried to dislocate my arm.
"I'm not hungry," I replied curtly, my voice devoid of any emotion.
"I didn't ask if you are. I said, have you eaten?"
I hesitated, my eyes meeting his intense stare. "No," I admitted reluctantly.
He continued to scrutinize me. "Why are you looking at me that way?" I finally asked, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze any longer.
"Like what?" he countered, his tone challenging.
The words caught in my throat. I feel so frustrated and afraid at the same time.
"You're driving me insane," I muttered under my breath, my anger boiling to the surface.
I rubbed my wrist, glaring at him. "Why can't you leave to wallow in my misery. What do you want now? Is this some sort of fantasy to you? Dressing me up like a doll, parading me around for your amusement?" I accused, my voice trembling with suppressed rage.
His eyes darkened. "Don't flatter yourself, princess," he retorted icily. "You're not all that."
"Well you're nothing but a horrible bastard" I spat at him not able to hold my anger.
"And you are nothing but an overbearing airhead" he said coolly.
I bit back a retort, the urge to defend myself warring with the knowledge that I was at his mercy. "You know absolutely nothing about me," I whispered.
"I know your father doesn't care about you," he stated matter-of-factly. "And you're worth more to me alive than dead. But if your father doesn't pay up, you'll be worthless to me too."
"Speaking of your father, he called." He leaned against the desk, watching me. "Seems he's having trouble coming up with the money."
My chest tightened. "I want to talk to him."
"No."
"Please." The word tasted bitter in my mouth. "I need to know what's going on."
He studied me for a long moment, then pulled out his phone and dialed a number. "But if you dare breathe a word, you are dead," he warned, before putting the call on speaker.
The phone rang twice.
"Cassian." My father's nervous voice answered through the speaker. "I'm working on it, I swear."
"Not good enough. I want my money before the end of the day," Cassian's eyes never left my face. "I have your daughter in my possession for nearly a week now."
"Please, just a few more days. I can get half—"
"All of it. Today."
Silence stretched across the line. Then: "What if... what if we made another arrangement?"
"What kind of arrangement?"
"She's young. Pretty." My father's voice dropped lower. "She's pure I swear. Worth more than what I owe you."
The words didn't make sense at first. Then they did.
My stomach lurched. The room spun while tears welled up in my eyes as I listened helplessly to the conversation, my heart breaking at the transaction of my worth before my very eyes.
This couldn't be happening. My father—the man who taught me to ride a bike, who cried at my graduation—was trying to sell me. All my life it had been just me and him.
"You disgusting piece of shit." Cassian's voice cut through my daze. "She's your daughter."
"Please, I'm desperate—"
"You have until midnight." He spoke through clenched teeth. "After that, all deals are off. I will hunt you down and finish you myself. And your daughter? She works for me until every cent is paid back. With interest."
He ended the call, throwing the phone onto his desk.
I stared at him, numb. "What do you mean, work for you?"
"Exactly what it sounds like." He sat behind his desk.
"And if I refuse?"
"Then you and dear old dad will get to know why it is better to die than steal from me." His smile was cold. "Trust me - this is the lesser evil here."
I couldn't breathe. The floor rushed up to meet me as my legs gave out.
His hands caught me before I hit the ground. I tried to fight, but my body wouldn't cooperate.
"Hey." Cassian's face came into focus. "Are you okay?"
"Don't touch me!" I shoved away from him, scrambling backward until I hit the wall. "This is your fault. All of it."
"My fault?" He laughed. "Your father stole my money. He laundered it through my businesses. Then he tried to disappear with it. The only reason you're here is because he—"
"Shut up!" I pressed my hands over my ears. "I don't want to hear it!"
"Too bad." He yanked my hands down. "Time to face reality, princess. Daddy's not the saint you thought he was. And I'm not the villain."
"Let go of me."
"Make me."
I met his eyes, saw the challenge there. The dare.
So I kneed him in the groin.
He doubled over, cursing. I bolted for the door.
Made it three steps before he recovered.
His arm caught me around the waist, spinning me around. My back hit the wall hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs.
"That," he growled, "was stupid."
I brought my knee up again. He blocked it, pinning my legs with his.
"Let. Me. Go."
"Not happening." His face was inches from mine.
I feel so helpless at that moment. My father wanted to sell me. To men who would...
Bile rose in my throat. I pushed against Cassian's chest. This time, he let me go.
I barely made it to the trash can before throwing up.