The night I was sold, the rain didn't stop.
It hammered against the rusty roof of our house like God was trying to warn me. Or maybe punish me. I stood in the doorway of the living room, barefoot on cold tiles, watching my stepfather sign his name on a piece of paper that would erase my life.
My name was on that paper too.
Aria Bennet.
Nineteen years old.
Worth one debt.
"Please," I whispered. "Don't do this."
Victor didn't look at me. His hands were shaking as he pushed the document across the table. "You don't understand. If I don't give them something… they'll kill me."
I laughed. It came out broken and loud. "So you give them me?"
Three men in black suits stood near the door. They didn't touch anything. They didn't sit. They just watched me like I was livestock.
The tallest one stepped forward. He had a scar slicing through his eyebrow and eyes that didn't blink. "Time's up."
Victor stood quickly, backing away from me. "I've done my part."
The scarred man nodded. "You have."
Then he looked at me.
"Come."
I shook my head. "No. I didn't agree to this."
He tilted his head slightly. "You don't need to."
Two of them grabbed my arms before I could scream. I struggled, kicking and crying, but Victor had already turned away. The door slammed behind us, cutting off the only home I had ever known.
The rain swallowed my sobs as they pushed me into a black car.
Inside, it smelled like leather and smoke.
I curled into myself as the engine started. No one spoke. The road felt endless. Every streetlight we passed was another part of my life disappearing behind me.
Finally, the car slowed.
The gates were tall. Iron. Sharp at the top like teeth.
A mansion rose behind them, dark and silent.
"This is where you live now," the scarred man said.
I whispered, "I want to go home."
He didn't reply.
They led me inside. The floors were marble. The air was cold. Somewhere in the house, a clock ticked loudly. Each sound felt like a countdown.
A door opened.
And then… I saw him.
He stood near the fireplace, tall and broad, wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His hair was dark. His face… cruelly beautiful. The firelight painted sharp shadows across his jaw.
This was the man who bought me.
"Luca De Santo," the scarred man said. "She's the payment."
Luca turned slowly.
His eyes met mine.
I forgot how to breathe.
They weren't angry. They weren't soft. They were empty. Like nothing in the world could surprise him anymore.
He looked me over in one cold sweep, from my wet hair to my shaking hands.
"So," he said quietly, "this is what he traded."
I took a step back. "I'm not a thing."
His lips curved slightly. "Everything has a price."
I felt sick.
"Take her to the east wing," he ordered.
"No!" I cried. "I didn't do anything! I didn't steal, I didn't gamble—"
"You exist," he said. "That's enough."
They dragged me down a hallway and into a room bigger than my entire house. A bed sat in the center like a trap.
The door closed.
Locked.
I ran to it, pounding with both fists. "Let me go! Please!"
No answer.
Hours passed. Or minutes. I couldn't tell.
Then the door opened.
Luca stepped inside.
He shut it behind him.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
He stood there for a moment, studying me like a puzzle. "You tried to escape?"
"I will," I said. "I swear I will."
He walked closer. Slow. Controlled. "If you run, they'll bring you back. And next time, they won't be gentle."
"I hate you."
"That's normal."
I lifted my chin. "You can't own me."
He stopped in front of me.
"You're wrong," he said softly. "Your stepfather sold you. Which means you're under my protection… and my control."
I felt tears burn my eyes. "What do you want from me?"
For the first time, something dark flickered in his gaze.
"I want," he said, "to see if you survive me."
My breath caught.
He turned and walked to the door. "Sleep. Tomorrow, you learn the rules."
The lock clicked.
I slid down to the floor, shaking.
I had lost my freedom.
My family.
My life.
But I didn't know yet…
That this man would become
my prison…
and I would become
his greatest weakness.