The first thing she felt was the cold. A quiet, creeping chill that had settled deep into her skin, as though the room has been watching her sleep and slowly stealing her warmth and suffocating her.
Then, came the ache. A muffled sound tore from her throat as awareness snapped into place. Her eyes flew open. Darkness, interrupted by a single over heard bulb that hummed faintly. No windows. Her breath came faster, shallow against the gag pressed tight between her teeth. Memory didn't return at once. It came in fragments.
Her fingers flexed, inching against the restraint. She needed to find Linda and get out of here. The chain bit to her skin, raw and unforgiving but a faint click of a door unlocking made her pause.
It wasn't whom she expected.
This man was tall. His presence filled the doorway before he stepped inside. Ink crawled up his arms before they disappeared beneath his sleeves of his shirt. Debt collectors. Her pulse skipped as she struggled to sit well. His hands closed around her throat and forced her back. Air vanished. Her hands jerked instinctively, her half-loosened restraint tightening again as she struggled against him.
"Why did you go after our lord?"
Her vision blurred at the edges. She tried to speak, but it came out as strangled, useless sound against the gag. Then, he let go.
"Pathetic," she muttered.
He reached forward, yanking the gag loose just enough for her to speak. "Talk."
She sucked in air, her voice breaking on the first attempt. "I...need to see him. I have nothing to say to you."
He laughed. "I'm the most friendly face you'll ever see in here," he said, tilting his head slightly as if studying something pretty. "And you don't want to test how untrue that can become."
She swallowed, her throat raw, but her eyes didn't drop. "Take me to him."
His expression hardened, whatever trace of mockery fading into something colder. "Our lord doesn't negotiate."
The door opened again. This time, the air changed before she saw him. The man holding her stiffened almost imperceptibly, his grip loosening just enough to signal a shift in authority. No visible weapons. Just a man in well-fitted pair of dark trousers, his shirt hanging open. A faint line of hair across his chest caught the light, subtle against his skin. He could have passed for ordinary handsome CEO.
"Enough, Roy." His voice was calm but final.
Roy inclined his head and moved toward the door, casting her one last look as if to say "you're dead now" before stepping out. Her hand tightened against the chain binding her wrist. The metal clinked sharply as she pulled, anger cutting through the lingering weakness in her body.
"Where's Linda?" Her voice came out rough but steady. "Did you kill her?"
He took a few steps closer as if approaching something unpredictable. Then her crouched in front of her, bringing himself level to her gaze.
"You invaded my privacy," he said quietly. "Walked into my space. Almost killed me."
He tilted his head.
"And you're asking about who, again? he paused. "Linda?"
Her eyes flashed. "Don't you touch her!"
He exhaled. "I almost thought you were as tough as you look," he murmured. "I'm very disappointed, Aria."
He leaned closer, enough to press into her space. "Do you know what most people would do in your position?" he continued, his tone turning almost conversational. "They beg. They offer names. They trade loyalty for breath."
His blue eyes locked into hers, searching. "Aria... " he said softly. "How fragile you are."
"You coward. Why don't you kill me?"
For the first time, the smile reached his eyes. He brushed his fingers against her cheeks. She reacted instantly, jerking against the chain, the metal snapping tight as she tried to pull away from his touch.
"I want to," he said, almost thoughtfully. "But where is the fun in that?"
He stood fully, the height difference suddenly more pronounced. "Now, we're doing things my way." he continued, "So here's what's going to happen."
He walked to the door. "You're going to be cleaned up, dressed properly and you will come to me."
A man stepped in, quieter than Roy. She studied him as he untied her. Her arm dropped slightly, the sudden freedom sending a sharp rush of sensation through her veins.
"Move."
Aria pushed herself from her feet. Her legs protested, muscles stiff from disuse, but she didn't let it show from the smallest shift of balance. They hallway stretched farther than she expected. She tracked and counted mentally, building a map she wasn't sure she'd ever get to use. They stepped into a large room.
The space opened around her. Dresses hung in careful order, dark tones and deeper colors. Beautiful shoes lined beneath them, arranged with care.
"Clean up and go to bed." The man said. "Tomorrow morning, you'll be taken to him."
They came to her without ceremony. The same man stood there, already expecting her to be ready. Aria stepped out, her expression composed, but inside, her thoughts were anything but still. They walked in silence. Though, corridors seemed to stretch longer than before, turning to other corridors, doors bending into doors until the layout itself began to feel deliberate. Designed to exhaust the mind before anything else. She kept her focus forward, counting doors, and tracking distance. She needed it.
By the time they reached the final door, her mind felt stretched. It felt different and personal. The room was large, but not in a way that tried to impress through scale alone. A sunken lounge area held a wide, low-profile sofa. Behind that, shelves were built into wall, holding a sparse collection of items. Opposite that space, A long desk stretched across part of that room.
He was seated at the lounge area, one arm resting loosely against the back of the sofa, his posture relax in a way that didn't match his energy. His shirt was still opened at the collar, sleeves pushed back just enough to reveal his strong forearms. She sat opposite him.
"Of all the people in this busy city," he said at last, his voice calm, "you chose to come after me."
He leaned forward slightly, studying her. His focus narrowing enough to sharpen the moment.
"You killed Vale. And I won't rest until I kill you."
He laughed. "Oh, sweetheart," he said, shaking his head slightly, amusement still there as he leaned back again. "You've been fooled."
Her fingers tightened slightly against the arm of the chair.
"If I wanted your father killed, I wouldn't have shot him."
He paused, lifting his legs and placing them on the desk.
"I don't murder that way. Now, the question is..." he continued, "Who benefits more from your father's death?"
"You wicked thing!" she yelled, rising to her feet to strike him, but he was fast. He caught her wrist and forced her down.
"Someone's playing with you, Aria," he said, moving toward her, circling just enough to shift her awareness of him without losing control.
"They gave you a name," he continued. "A target. A reason."
He stopped behind her. "But you never asked why. You never asked who could lie so easily."
Her jaw tightened. "I know what I'm doing."
"Do you?" he murmured, "Because I could kill you here and now."
The space between them returned but didn't feel the same. "Let the games begin."