Things I have no business feeling when I’m his prisoner.

He nods. “It’s not busted too badly, it will heal.” He releases my lips and takes my hand gently, turning it to regard the cut before standing so quickly I jolt back—a habit, a habit I thought I’d broken. He sees it, of course he does, but doesn’t comment. “Let me get a kit.”

He leaves the room for a moment, and I scramble to my feet to run after him and escape, but he shuts the door and locks it. The bastard. Pacing, snarling, and swearing under my breath, I wait for him to return. There is no way I can take this big guy. I’m good, but I’m not that good. Plus, I’ve seen his scarred knuckles and crooked nose, which has been broken too many times, so I know he’s a fighter. By the fluid way he moves for such a big guy, I would guess a boxer.

The door unlocks, and he comes back in with a first aid kit. He gestures for me to sit on the bed, so I do, hoping if I’m good, I can lull them into a false sense of security. He kneels down and cleans the cut, ignoring me completely.

“What will happen to my bar?” I demand. I love that place. It’s my home, the only place I ever belonged, and I worked my ass off to keep it alive after…

“We locked it up, it will stay closed for now,” he offers, uncaring about my questions or anger as he wraps my hand back up and stands. “You should get some sleep.”

He turns then and starts to leave, so I leap into his path. “Why? Why are you doing this?” I whisper, tears finally filling my eyes. “I’m a person, a person! Not an object, please just let me go.”

He sighs, scrubbing at his face. “No. Get some sleep.”

Then he leaves, the click of the door signalling it’s locked again. I wipe my tears away, angry with myself for letting him see that weakness. All of a sudden, everything closes in on me. I’m theirs, they are never letting me go.

I know that, I can feel it. I know too much, have seen too much…this is my life now. The question is, how long will I survive? Between the crazy bastard and the mean one…I’m betting not long.

My father gave me a death sentence at the hands of these Vipers, and I’m betting he doesn’t even care. All my life, he’s been taking it out on me. I always thought he would kill me. Turns out I was right, but not in the way I thought.

I don’t sleep, not really. I lie on the floor, watching the city come to life as the sun rises. All the while, thinking of a plan. I refuse to lie here and let these bastards do whatever they want to me and possibly kill me.

I have a life.

They picked the wrong fucking girl. I’ve been fighting longer than I’ve been walking. They want an easy slave? Tough fucking luck, ’cause I’m going to make them regret the day they took me. I need to gain their trust, make them think they’re breaking my spirit. Then I’ll escape.

If they try to kill me, I’ll kill them. It’s that simple.

This isn’t a normal day anymore, this is a dog-eat-dog world…or more accurately, a Viper world. And right now, I’m the prey…

It should horrify me that I’m even contemplating killing them, but I’ve seen shit most people would never even be able to dream of, and if I have to kill four, corrupt mafia assholes to get my freedom, I will.

I’ll never stop fighting them.

I’ll be free again, and then my dad is going to pay for this.

Feeling calmer with a plan in place, I get to my feet as I hear booted feet heading my way. Kenzo opens the door and peeks in, smiling at me. He always seems to do that, but it can’t mask the calculation in his eyes, or the way he watches me and everyone. Waiting, observing.

His hair is shaved at the sides and slicked back today as he steps into the room. He’s got on a white shirt, with two buttons undone at the top to show his chiselled chest and glimpses of chest hair. It’s tucked into black trousers and shoes shinier than my life.

He’s so put together, so perfect, and screams money and power. It flows from him. He’s used to being the center of attention, the most powerful man in the room. What they don’t realise? When you hit bottom, you only have one way to go, and that’s up.

They took everything, including me.

I have nothing left to lose.

They have everything.

“You must be hungry. Come on, we’re having breakfast and thought you might like to join us,” he offers, his hands tucking into his pockets as he tries to make himself seem friendly. It might work on others, but not on me. I see behind that mask to the monster hiding beneath.

“Will I be chained like a dog?” I snarl, and he smirks.

“Do you want to be? It can be arranged, I’m sure,” he retorts smugly, and I narrow my eyes. “Come, eat.”

“And if I say no?”

He loses his smirk, his face going cold. “You better realise now that you have no power here, love. It will make it easier for you. If I wanted you chained like a dog, you would be. I’m being polite, so do not throw it in my face, or we might not be so polite in the future.”

Then, he goes back to grinning. “Come.” He nods his head and leaves the room.

I struggle for a moment before following after him. He’s waiting right outside, giving me no time to try and escape. Like he can hear my thoughts, he chuckles, his hand going to the base of my spine, warming the skin there. He leans down, murmuring in my ear, “I wouldn’t. D is looking for an excuse to rough you up. Don’t tempt him to chase you, because when he gets you…well, you will have wished he was as nice as us.”

“Do you always threaten people with death and torture over breakfast?” I snap, moving away from his hand.

He laughs behind me. “Of course, it isn’t a good morning without at least one death threat or fight.”

I stomp down the hallway, noting the other doors for later. It cuts off, opening up into the rest of the apartment, and I stop, gawking. “You’re all crazy,” I mutter distractedly.

He presses against my back, his heat and hard body making me freeze. I feel his lips at my ear, his breath wafting through my hair. “You have no idea.”

I ignore him, too busy staring at the grandeur around me. If I thought that bedroom looked like something out of a showroom, I had no idea…fuck, I didn’t even know places could look like this.

To the right are floor-to-ceiling windows, which cover two stories, and there are doors leading out onto what looks like a terrace with a pool and a bar. To the left is the front door with a scanner next to it, and behind that is a floating glass staircase leading up to another level.

Stepping into the room, I stare around further. The whole place is done in gold, white, and black. Marble floor with black accents squeak under my feet, leading to a living area. Sunk into the floor is a huge sofa, and when I say huge, I mean large enough to hold a full rugby team. It’s in a square and looks like expensive leather, and, I shit you not, a fucking open fire is in front of it. There’s a TV, which covers the whole wall next to me. Behind the sofa is a glass table that runs the length of an entire wall, with flowers and decorations across it and a grand piano.

Next to it is an open kitchen, with a white and grey marble island and black stools with gold legs in front of it. The kitchen is bigger than my whole apartment, equipped with every gadget and gizmo you could imagine. Large, chandelier pendant lights hang down from the ceiling, and the fridge and oven are a shiny black. Gold flowers sit perfectly in a vase. Ryder is moving around it. “Bin open,” he orders, and the bin opens, letting him drop something inside.