The SUV moved through the city like a shadow, silent except for the low hum of the engine and the occasional turn of the tires over the wet asphalt. The lights outside blurred into streaks of color, casting a flickering glow across the black leather interior. I sat rigid in the back seat, my hands clasped tightly in my lap, knuckles white. Every instinct screamed at me to flee, to scream, to fight—but I had nowhere to go. I was trapped.
The man in black—Dante—sat across from me, his long legs stretched out, one arm resting casually against the door. His eyes never left me. They didn't need to. I felt them on my skin, burning through every layer of clothing, through every thought, until it felt like he was inside my head.
"You're quiet," he said finally. His voice was soft, almost conversational, but it carried a weight that made my chest tighten.
"I—I don't know what to say," I stammered, trying to keep my voice calm. My throat felt dry, scratchy, and small.
"You will," he replied, leaning slightly forward. "Eventually, you'll understand that talking without permission is… unwise."
A shiver ran down my spine. His words weren't a threat—they were a warning. Cold, measured, impossible to ignore.
I swallowed. "I—I'm sorry."
He tilted his head, studying me as if deciding whether I was telling the truth. "Good. That's a start."
Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. I forced myself to breathe slowly, counting each exhale to keep from panicking. But I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened at The Oval, about the way he had just taken me, as though I was nothing more than a piece of property he wanted to claim.
And yet… I couldn't look away.
The SUV slowed and eventually stopped in front of a massive wrought-iron gate, set into a stone wall taller than any building I had ever seen. Lights flickered along the top, illuminating a path that led to a mansion hidden in shadow. The car idled for a moment before Dante opened his door and stepped out, his black coat flaring slightly with the motion.
"Out," he commanded.
I froze, heart hammering.
"Now," he added, and there was no room for argument.
I took a deep breath and obeyed, stepping out into the cool night air. The wind whipped against my skin, but it didn't ease the terror gnawing at my stomach. I followed silently as he led the way to the mansion, his long strides effortless, each movement precise, commanding.
The front doors opened before we reached them, swinging inward without a sound. Inside, the house was nothing short of stunning—luxury concealed behind shadows. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings, their light muted but enough to illuminate dark wood floors, velvet furniture, and walls lined with abstract art that seemed both beautiful and unsettling.
He stopped in front of a set of double doors and gestured for me to enter. "Sit."
I hesitated, my legs trembling.
"Sit!" he snapped, sharper this time. My body stiffened, but I obeyed, sliding onto a leather chair as though every muscle in me was frozen by fear.
He circled the room slowly, like a predator, his eyes never leaving mine. "You're going to stay here for a while. Alone. That is the first rule."
"Alone?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.
"Yes. Alone. You don't speak unless I permit it. You don't touch anything. You don't move from this spot unless I tell you." His gaze bore into me, sharp, unrelenting. "Second rule: You don't try to escape. You're mine now, and running won't change that. It will only make things… unpleasant."
I swallowed hard, panic tightening my chest. "I—I don't understand. Why me?"
He paused, resting his hand against the wall beside him. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought I saw something almost… human flicker in them. But it was gone before I could process it.
"Because I want you," he said simply.
The words should have terrified me further. And they did. But there was something else underneath them—a promise, a weight, a certainty—that I couldn't name. My stomach twisted, fear and… something else combining into a knot I couldn't unravel.
He moved closer, his shadow stretching across the floor toward me. "You will learn quickly that resistance is… unwise. But compliance, careful compliance, might just earn you… some leniency."
I nodded, my throat tight, words failing me entirely.
Dante smiled faintly, the kind of smile that didn't reach his eyes, a dangerous curve that made my heart beat faster in fear and something I didn't want to admit—curiosity.
"Good," he said. Then his tone shifted, softer but no less commanding. "You'll stay here tonight. I'll return in the morning. Don't leave. Don't speak. Don't move."
I swallowed, nodding again. My mind raced. I was alone in this enormous, unfamiliar house with a man who had just kidnapped me. Every instinct screamed at me to fight. To run. To scream. But I was trapped, powerless, and completely at his mercy.
The room was silent now, except for the faint hum of the air conditioning. I sat rigidly in the chair, legs pressed together, hands clenched in my lap. My pulse thundered in my ears.
Hours passed—or maybe minutes. Time seemed to stretch and twist in the darkness, the shadows in the corners of the room seeming to move with a life of their own. I was hyper-aware of every sound: the creak of the floorboards, the faint buzz of a chandelier, the soft flutter of curtains against the window.
And then I realized something horrifying.
I wasn't just scared of him anymore.
I was thinking about him. About his eyes, his voice, the way he had claimed me so effortlessly. I shook my head, trying to dispel the thought, trying to push back the fear and the… fascination.
But it was no use.
When the door finally opened again, I flinched. He stepped inside, tall, composed, and impossibly dangerous. His eyes scanned the room slowly before landing on me.
"You're awake," he said, voice low and smooth. "Good. That makes my job easier."
My stomach twisted. "Job?" I whispered.
He smiled faintly, a cruel, dangerous expression. "Keeping you. Training you. Teaching you. You'll see soon enough."
I pressed my back against the chair, panic bubbling, but I was rooted in place. There was no escape. Not yet.
Dante circled once, slow, deliberate. "You'll learn the rules quickly. Obey them, and you might survive this with your dignity intact. Disobey… and I won't be responsible for the consequences."
I shivered. Every word he spoke carried weight, promise, and threat. I realized then that this man—this devil in black—was a force I could not fight. And that frightened me more than anything else.
Yet somewhere deep inside, part of me couldn't look away.
Because he was fascinating. Dangerous. And terrifyingly… alive.
And for reasons I refused to acknowledge, I didn't want to leave his sight.
The night stretched on. Silence returned to the room. My pulse slowly slowed, but my mind raced with fear, questions, and the horrifying realization that my life as I knew it had ended the moment he had taken me from The Oval.
And that was only the beginning.