LEX'S POV
The training began at dawn.
Lex wasn't woken gently. Her bedroom door opened, and a man she'd never seen before stood there. He was massive, with a shaved head and hands like bricks. "Up," he grunted. "The boss says you need to remember how to move. Five minutes. Gym room."
Seventy-two hours. The clock was ticking.
The gym was on the penthouse level, a room filled with expensive, silent equipment. The man Bruno didn't talk. He just pointed at a heavy bag. "Warm up."
Lex's body was stiff from stress and fear, but muscle memory was a powerful thing. She started slow, then faster. Jab, cross, hook. The thud of her fists on the leather was the only sound. With each hit, she saw Marco's face. With each kick, she felt the ghost of her brother in the ring.
After twenty minutes, sweat soaked her shirt. Bruno stepped in front of the bag, holding it steady. "Fighters don't just hit bags," he said, his voice flat. "They hit back."
He let go of the bag and took a fighting stance. He wanted her to spar. With him.
Lex shook her head, breathing hard. "I don't spar anymore."
"You do now," Bruno said, and without warning, he threw a slow, testing jab at her shoulder.
Lex's body reacted. She slipped to the side, the punch missing her. Her heart raced. He came again, a hook this time. She ducked, her legs remembering the crouch. The movements were coming back, like a song she hated but knew all the words to.
She blocked a third punch, the impact stinging her forearm. Anger flared. This wasn't training. This was a reminder. She was a tool being sharpened.
When Bruno threw a fourth punch, she didn't block it. She caught his wrist, twisted, and used his own momentum to throw him off balance. He stumbled back a step, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
He nodded once, a sign of respect. "Good. The Sphinx is still in there. Now, we work on getting her all the way out."
The training was brutal. For two hours, he pushed her through drills she hadn't done in years. Her muscles burned. Her lungs screamed. But with every passing minute, the scared waitress faded, and the fighter's cold, focused mindset crept back in.
Finally, Bruno called a stop. "Enough. Shower. Eat. The boss will see you at noon."
He left her alone in the gym, dripping sweat and feeling like a stranger in her own skin.
Back in the main part of the penthouse, she explored her cage. It was huge. A kitchen with food she'd never afford. A living room with a TV the size of a wall. A library with books that looked untouched. She found the bedroom where her things had been brought. Her clothes were hung neatly in a closet bigger than her old bathroom. Her mother's bracelet was on the nightstand. It felt like a peace offering from a kidnapper.
She was staring at the bracelet when a soft chime echoed through the apartment. A moment later, the elevator doors opened. A woman in a chef's uniform wheeled in a cart covered with silver domes. She smiled politely, set the food on the dining table, and left without saying a word.
Lex ate alone at a table for ten, tasting nothing.
After lunch, she paced. The silence was the worst part. No customers, no sizzling grill, no Sophia humming old songs. Just the quiet hum of a perfect, trapped life.
She needed air. Real air, not the processed stuff blowing from the vents.
She went to the wall of windows in the living room. The view was incredible, the whole city lay below like a toy model. She found the handle to open a window panel. She pulled.
It didn't budge.
She pushed. Nothing. She tried the handle next to it. Locked. She went to every single window in the massive living room, then the library, then her bedroom. She pulled, pushed, searched for latches.
Every window was sealed shut. Permanently.
They weren't windows. They were just very clear walls. You could see the world, but you couldn't touch it. You couldn't feel the wind.
The truth of her situation crashed down on her. This wasn't just a nice apartment. It was a vault. A beautiful, luxurious vault at the top of the world. She was a specimen in a glass box.
Panic bubbled up in her chest, tight and hot. She couldn't stay here. She couldn't breathe.
She ran to the front door, a heavy, wooden door beside the elevator. She turned the handle. It was unlocked. A spark of hope flared. She pulled the door open.
A hallway stretched out, elegantly carpeted, with a few other doors. The way to the stairs! She took a step out.
Two men in suits stood up from sleek chairs placed on either side of her doorway. They hadn't been there when she arrived. They were there now.
"Can we help you, Miss Costa?" one asked, his voice polite but firm.
"I… I just wanted to go for a walk. To the stairs."
"I'm sorry, that's not permitted," the other man said. "For your safety. You have everything you need inside."
They didn't block her path, but their presence was a wall. They would stop her if she tried.
Lex backed into the penthouse and closed the door softly. She leaned her forehead against the cool wood.
The door hadn't been locked because it didn't need to be. The guards were the lock.
She was trapped. Not with a key, but with eyes and men and unopenable windows.
A new sound made her jump. It was a soft buzz, then a click, coming from the direction of her bedroom. It wasn't the elevator. Cautiously, she walked to the bedroom door and peered in. A part of the wall, which she had thought was just decorated panels, had slid open. It revealed a dark opening, a doorway to another room she never knew was there. From the darkness inside, a single, familiar voice echoed out. "Don't look so surprised, Lexi," the voice said. It was Marco. "Did you really think he'd make you wait three days to see me? Come in. Let's talk about your brother."