Chapter 1
I woke up slowly, disoriented. My head dropped. My mouth tasted bitter.
I felt like I was lying on something soft — silk, maybe. My eyes snapped open. I saw that I was in a room I had never seen before. Large and very uncomfortable. It didn't look like a room that a normal human being lived in. It was too dark, and the paintings, the sofa, the bed sheets were all covered with black.
Oh my god, whoever is living in this room has very, very poor taste. The floor-to-ceiling windows showed the city views, but it wasn't the view that got me. It was the feeling of being in an oppressive luxury.
It gave me the vibe of "I want to control you inside out until I make you mine." Ew www.
I sat up slowly. The room moved. I felt sick. The drugs were still inside me. My legs felt weak.
I looked down at myself. My suit was gone. My dark blue suit, the one that cost a lot of money, was gone.
Now I wore black silk sleeping pajamas. They were loose, too big, with a small silver M on the collar. The sleeves covered my hands.
The pants touched the floor.
They were not mine. He changed my clothes. He touched me when I was not awake, without my permission.
What the fucking hell happened when I was asleep? What did that good-for-nothing kidnapper do to me?
I swung my legs over the bed, bare feet sinking into the soft rug. I stood, swaying slightly, taking a very careful step to the door. Locked. I rattled it, frustration rising.
Ahhhh, why the hell is the door locked?
Gosh, what kind of trouble have I gotten myself into here?
"Hey! Is anyone there?"
My voice echoed. No answer. But come to think of it, where am I?
How did I get here? What does Moretti want?
I hit the door again, this time harder than before. Nothing. Then I heard something — something that sounded like boots and walking footsteps.
Low voices and guards outside. They were close. I knew it. I knew they were scared — not of me, but of him.
Then I remembered the meeting room: my team smiling, my own face, Dante behind me, his hand on my neck as he pressed me hard.
But before everything truly went black,
I heard something from him. He told me that he was my true mate. That word made me feel sick.
I hated it, and I would hurt myself before I let Dante take me.
I heard a soft sound behind me. I stopped moving. I turned fast.
Dante was already inside the room. He stood near the door like he owned the place — like he owned me.
He wore a dark suit, no tie. He looked very calm, clean, and rested, like he slept well while I was taken.
"Good morning, my queen. Did you sleep well?"
"Let me out now, or else what I will do to you, you will not like it."
"No, no, I can't do that."
"This is kidnapping, and for your information, this is against the law."
"I know."
"I will call the police."
He smiled a little. "Go ahead. I dare you."
I looked around and saw my phone on the table beside the bed. I grabbed it and dialed 911.
The phone rang.
"911, here. What's your emergency?"
"My name is Alistair Park. I was kidnapped by Dante Moretti. He is keeping me—"
"I'm sorry, we cannot help you with anything.
We have orders for Mr. Moretti not to help," the dispatch woman said.
The call ended.
The quietness felt scary.
I looked at Dante. He was staring back at me with his golden eyes.
"What did you do?"
He shrugged and moved his shoulders. "I own half of the city, and the rest belongs to me. No one will save you even if you try."
I felt my heart beat faster. Thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump, with fear.
I have always thought that no one could control me. I built my life on power and control, but Dante broke that belief in less than one minute.
The rules did not just change. They disappeared. And now I'm stuck in his world.
Dante took a slow step towards me — just one — but my body reacted like he had crossed a mile while doing that.
Thump thump thump thump thump thump thump.
My back hit the edge of the bed. I hadn't realized that I was moving until there was nowhere else to go.
The silk pajamas brushed my leg again. My stomach exploded with butterflies.
"Don't." My voice came out rough and broken.
He stopped — not because he had to, but because he wanted to.
"But here is the thing, Alistair. You don't get to give orders here. I do."
His eyes flickered to the door, the guards outside, the locks, the city outside that couldn't hear me.
"You can scream, you can fight, you can hate me, but you are not leaving here," he said. He looked back at me with those golden eyes.
My hands shook — not weak, but angry and trapped.
"This isn't over. You will regret the day you kidnapped me, you useless good-for-nothing bastard."
He smiled slow and certain. "Oh, it is just the beginning, and I have more in store for you," he replied, turning towards the door.
The door closed behind him with a soft click, locking me in.