God!
What kind of kidnappers are these people?
They feed me, give me whatever I demand, let me attend college, even take me shopping—and they pay.
What.
The.
Fuck.
I wake up every morning on this perfectly crafted bed—
No. Calling it a "bed" is an insult.
It's a firm cloud that decided to adopt me.
Then there's the bathroom, where a luxurious jacuzzi practically sings my name.
After I get ready, there's breakfast—so gorgeous that just the fragrance feels like a waterfall in my mouth.
And then…
A Rolls Royce.
A whole damn luxury car just to drop me and pick me up from college.
With a chauffeur who calls me ma'am like I'm royalty.
Am I really a hostage?
Because this feels dangerously close to princess-level pampering.
Only one rule:
"Do not contact Raven."
Ew.
Who wants to do that?
It's been a month since I walked out of my apartment and told my parents I'm staying in the college dorm.
Maybe my decision was impulsive…
But I'm not ready to face him.
Not yet.
Not when everything inside me still twists at the thought of him.
A knock on my "hostage castle" door snapped me out of it.
"Ma'am, your ordered ice cream is here."
"Oh, lovely. Come in."
My entire mood flipped—thank you, ice cream.
My favorite: ice cream biscuit.
I took a huge bite, savoring the cold, creamy sweetness sandwiched between two perfect cookies.
"That's what heaven tastes like," I muttered, fully satisfied.
Is being a hostage always this sweet?
It's all so good… too good.
So good it's starting to feel unreal.
Because no matter how soft the bed is, no matter how sweet the dessert is, there's this constant siren wailing at the back of my mind—
This is going to cost.
More than you can pay.
More than you expect.
They call themselves SNAKES.