The silence between us was heavy with many unsaid words.
He stood just a few feet away, his dark eyes gleaming with maliciousness as he pulled out his phone and as he slowly tapped the screen.
Then I heard the quiet tick of a stopwatch.
"You have sixty seconds," he said, slipping the phone back into his pocket. "If you don't choose, I will make the choice for you and trust me, you won't like my choice."
A chill ran down my spine.
My hands clenched at my sides. "Choose what?"
"Let me explain further." His lips curled into a smirk as he was obviously liking what was going on here but still his voice remained cold and very much detached.
"Option one: You stay in this room for a year, you won't leave and you won't see anyone, absolutely no one will enter, and you will receive food, but nothing more. No freedom, no interaction. Just you and these four walls for a year and of course I'll be the only one you will be allowed to interact with."
I swallowed hard, this option was too much, he just wanted me to be in a prison, a freaking gilded age.
I looked around the room knowing fully well that I would run mad after staying here for just a week.
"And option two?" I gulped hoping the conditions would be better
But from the way his smirk deepened, I doubted. "You will be at my beck and call, my shadow and slave, you will do what I say, when I say it and just how I say it, no refusals no delays." He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming as he broke the distance "You will belong to me, in every way there is."
My stomach twisted as heat from want and complete fear was battling inside me.
"Why are you doing this?" I whispered in a weak voice.
His gaze went over me like he was piecing me apart, as if the answer should have been obvious. "Because I can."
The stopwatch continued ticking as seconds were slipping away, he didn't even tell me how much time but I knew it wasn't much.
I looked around the room— at the soft bed, the elegant furniture, the false illusion of comfort that suddenly felt like a mummies tomb.
A year! A full year locked away with no one. No contact. No escape, my breathing quickened. I wasn't built for isolation. I wasn't built for submission either, but at least with the second choice, I existed and I could find a way to escape if need be.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
I sucked in a breath. "I'll be your… whatever." I forced the words out, barely above a whisper.
"Doesn't count if you don't say it." He teased me.
"I'll be your slave." I said out of defeat, his smirk widened.
"And what does that entail?" He asked.
"I'll be at your beck and call." The words made me puke. The stopwatch beeped, sixty seconds were up.
His smirk lingered as he pocketed his phone, stepping even closer until I could feel his warmth, the scent of spice and leather wrapping around me.
The Don stilled and then he slowly grinned.
"Good girl, I know you'll make the right choice."
Something about those words made my stomach turn. I had a feeling I had just made a deal with the devil, but I wasn't sure which choice would have been worse.
His fingers brushed against my chin, tilting my face up, his touch was very gentle, contradicting everything I knew about him.
"The first rule," he murmured, his thumb grazing my jaw moving to my lip leaving me with no other choice but to look up at him, "You don't leave this room without my permission."
I hated the way my skin reacted to him. How his voice moved down my spine like a whisper of something dangerous.
Then just like that he stepped back.
"I'm leaving the door unlocked," he said, already walking toward it but before stepping out, he glanced at me over his shoulder his smirk was sharper and clearer now.
"Don't try to escape, Sienna. You'll regret it."
And then, he was gone.
***
The room was silent. Too silent.
I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands gripping the sheets as my mind replayed everything that had happened.
The gun to my father's head, the Don's touch and the choices I barely understood.
I didn't trust him that much and he had taken me too easily and my father had given me up too easily and somehow I felt something wasn't right.
I had to find out what, I glanced at the door seeing that it was unlocked.
The Don had left it open on purpose, but I didn't believe for a second that he actually trusted me to stay put.
He wanted me to obey, he wanted to see if I would obey, but I had never been one to follow rules.
I moved quietly, slipping off the bed and creeping toward the door. My pulse pounded in my ears as I peeked out into the dark hallway.
It was completely empty. I exhaled softly, stepping out.
The mansion was quiet, and the further I walked, the heavier the air felt like I was trespassing in a place I had no business being.
I didn't know what I was looking for, all I knew was that I wanted answers.
Finally, I heard low and murmured voices, I pressed myself against the wall, inching closer to an open doorway trying to check if I could hear anything.
Inside, the Don stood with his back to me, his stance relaxed yet commanding across from him, Elias leaned against a desk, arms crossed.
"Her old man was a coward," Elias muttered. "Handed her over without a fight."
The don hummed. "Doesn't matter. She's here now."
Elias scoffed. "And she has no idea, does she?"
He didn't reply for minutes and then he finally did.
"She has no idea what she's really worth, if she didn't she wouldn't have chosen to save the bastard."
My breath stopped and my stomach twisted in knots. I took a step back, trying to make sense of their conversation.
They knew something I didn't and it was something about me.
I turned and ran before I got caught…