I had no idea how long I had been in that cold van, praying to God that this was not the night I went to meet my mother.

 There were no windows for me to look out of and I could barely hear anything other than the sound of heavy tires pressing against gravel.

  Eventually, the van stopped with a violent jolt.

 My body slammed against the cold metal floor, the ropes cutting into my wrists and ankles.

  The masked men didn't speak.

  At least not to me. They simply grabbed me and dragged me out.

  I realized quickly that arguing, begging, or moving would be useless.

  I was also worried that they would lose their temper and hurt me if I made too much of a fuss.

  I was yanked to my feet the few times that I lost my footing, stumbling, legs weak, every nerve screaming.

  My dress was torn, my hair plastered to my face, my skin stinging from bruises. I wanted to collapse, but the hands that held me were iron.

  "Where are you taking me?" I asked again, voice cracking, though I knew no one would answer.

  "SHUT YOUR MOUTH!"

  I obeyed.

  I was dragged down a corridor I didn't recognize. Concrete walls, bare, harsh lights flickering overhead, and the echo of boots on the floor.

  The sound followed me like a heartbeat I couldn't escape.

  "Please... I just.... let me go," I begged, trembling. "I'll do anything. Just... don't..." My voice broke.

  I couldn't even finish the sentence.

  What exactly could I offer up in exchange for my life?

  The men didn't answer. They just pushed me forward. I stumbled again, hands scraping against the cold concrete.

  My chest felt hollow.

  Who were these people? What did they want? Was I going to die here, alone, in this strange place?

  They stopped in front of a heavy metal cell door.

  One of them pushed me inside, shoving me hard enough that I fell to my knees.

  The door slammed behind me with a sound that made me flinch, and the lock clicked into place.

  I was alone.

  The room was small. Bare. Cold. The only light came from a single flickering bulb overhead, making the shadows dance across the walls.

  My wrists ached from the ropes. My legs trembled. I collapsed against the wall and wept.

  I thought of my mother.

  Of the last time I had seen her, the soft warmth of her hands, the way she had held me close and whispered that I was safe.

  That she would protect me.

  She wasn't here. She had died in her sleep and couldn't protect me now. She never would again.

  The memories twisted inside me, pain cutting sharper than any slap, deeper than any wound.

  I had been sold. Beaten. Humiliated. And now... I didn't know if I could survive this next step.

  Laughter came from the corridor outside. Harsh. Cruel. Mocking.

  "What's the matter, little girl?" a voice sneered from outside the cell. "Scared? Think you're going to cry your way out of this?"

  I didn't respond but the mockery did not stop there.

  "You look really cute when you cry you know. Maybe we could have a taste of you before the boss has you"

  Another one of the guards spoke.

  "Looks like the wife of Raul the great is now at the bottom of the barrel," laughter exploded, "Oh how the mighty have fallen"

  I curled into myself, rocking slightly, unable to respond.

  My body shook violently, my lips trembling as sobs racked through me.

  I pressed my hands over my face, the ropes cutting into my skin, my body trembling.

  My father would have allowed a lot of things to befall me but I couldn't believe that he would allow this

  His daughter, in a dirty cell, mocked by guards who would not be able to look me in the eye on a regular day.

 He must have heard about the attack on Raul's compound by now.

  He must have heard that Raul was killed and he probably believed that I must have been killed as well.

I wasn't dead...... at least not yet but nobody else knew about that.

  Which meant that one wrong move and I just might die here. I could die here.

  Alone. No one would know. No one would notice and no one would even care.

  I finally allowed myself to fall into despair. .

  Outside the cell, the laughter continued.

  I could hear their voices joking about what they would do when the "boss" came for me.

 "You better leave that one alone," one said, mockingly. "The boss would not like to hear about his playthings being bullied"

I flinched at the words, my chest tightening.

Plaything?

Was that was I about to be reduced to? Amaya Vancouver, daughter of a powerful man, now reduced to the plaything of this mysterious Boss?

My entire life was falling away.

  And as I lay there, listening to the mocking voices fade, my tearmixing with the cold concrete, I wondered about "The boss"

Whoever he was, I knew from the sound of it that he was the one in control.

 He would decide my fate.

If I lived or died here was up to him and I had no say in it.

I didn't know how long I had been there.

  Hours? Days maybe?

  It was really had to tell sometimes.

 Time didn't exist in that cell. Only the cold and the silence between the mocking voices of the guards who made sure I could not escape.

  Only the sound of my own breathing, uneven and weak.

  I sat with my back against the wall, knees pulled to my chest, my fingers numb from the cold. My head throbbed. My body ached. Every part of me felt... used up.

  Like there was nothing left to take.

  And yet, I knew there was more coming.

  There was always more to take from me.

  The laughter outside had faded, replaced by quieter voices. Boots against concrete and hurried movement.

  Something was happening outside.

  Something urgent.

  I lifted my head slowly, my heart picking up speed.

  "GET UP!"

  The voice came from outside the cell, it was sharp and commanding.

  I didn't move fast enough.

  The door slammed open and light flooded in, blinding me for a second. I flinched, raising a hand to shield my eyes.

  "I SAID GET UP, GIRL!"

  I forced myself to stand, legs trembling beneath me. My balance wavered, but I caught myself against the wall.

  I wasn't going to fall again. Not in front of them.

  Two men stood at the door. Armed and watching me carefully.

  One of them stepped aside.

  And that was when everything changed..... The moment that He walked in.

  I didn't know who he was at first. But I felt it immediately.

  There was an unmistakably shift in the air, the silence that followed him, the way the men straightened without being told.

  This man, whoever he was, radiated power.

  He walked slowly and inspected the cell, he didn't even look at me right away.

  My breath caught when his eyes finally lifted to mine... I forgot how to breathe completely.

  There was something utterly dark about his eyes. I can't explain it but I knew that it made my chest tighten.

  He wasn't loud like the others. He looked controlled and in control of everyone and everything.

  He looked at me like but said nothing. At least, not yet.

  I swallowed hard, my throat was dry. My fingers curled into my dress.

  I didn't speak. I didn't dare.

  He took a step closer. Then another. I wanted to back away, but my body refused to move.

  "Is this her?" he asked one of the armed men quietly.

  His voice wasn't raised. It didn't need to be. It cut through the room anyway.

  "Yes, boss," one of the men answered immediately.

  Boss?

  My stomach dropped. So this was him.

  The one they were talking about. The one who would decide if I lived... or died.

  His gaze didn't leave me. Not once. It moved over my face, my torn dress, the bruises already forming on my skin. Taking everything in.

  I had never felt so exposed in my entire life.

  I wondered how my father would feel if he could see me now. If he could see the mess that he had thrown me into without a second thought.

  I lowered my eyes instinctively.

  "Look at me."

  The command was quiet but my head snapped up immediately.

  My heart slammed against my ribs.

  His eyes held mine again. And this time... something shifted in them. It wasn't softness.

  It was something that I had seen in Raul's eyes as well.

  Interest.

  And that terrified me more than anything else.

  He stepped even closer now, close enough that I could feel his presence fully.

  Close enough that I could see the sharp line of his jaw, the calm in his expression, the complete lack of hesitation.

  "What is your name?" he asked.

  My lips parted. My voice came out small.

  "A-Amaya."

  "My name is Bane. Do you have a last name, Amaya?"

  "Vancouver, S....sir"

  I was never going to bring myself to answer Raul's last name.

  Not like my father's last name was any better. He had sold me off after all.

  He studied me again for a long second.

  Then he leaned slightly to the side, motioning for one of the guards. He spoke to the guard low enough that only the man beside him could hear.

  I couldn't make out the words.

  But I saw the reaction.

  The man beside him straightened instantly. "Yes, boss."

  The man, Bane, I realized stepped back. His eyes stayed on me for one final second, then he turned and walked out of the cell.

  Just like that, the heavy air of authority left with him even if it lingered a bit.

  I staggered slightly, catching myself against the wall again. My legs felt weaker than before.

  My heart raced in a way I couldn't control.

  What... what just happened?

  Why did he look at me like that?

  Why didn't he say anything else?

  "MOVE, GIRL."

  The sharp voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

  The man he had spoken to stepped forward, unlocking the chains on my wrists.

  He was not gentle but he was not as rough on me as before either.

  "GET HER UP," he ordered to the others. "NOW."

  I flinched as hands grabbed my arms, pulling me upright.

  "W-where are you taking me?" I asked, my voice trembling despite myself.

  No answer.

  "Please... just tell me please"

  "SHUT YOUR MOUTH," one of them snapped.

  I bit my lip immediately, swallowing the rest of my words as they dragged me out of the cell.

  The corridor felt longer this time.

  I stumbled as we walked, my legs still weak, my body still shaking.

  "Stand properly," the man beside me said coldly. "You're going to get cleaned up"

  My heart stopped. Somehow a clean up in the hands of these people did not sound like a good thing.

  "Why?" I whispered.

  This time, he answered.

  A smirk tugged at his lips.

  "Because the boss wants to see you."

They didn't take me back to a cell. That was the first thing I noticed.

 The second thing I noticed was the silence. This place they were taking me for the "clean up" was quieter.

 A lot cleaner as well.

 "Stand still."

 The order came as soon as they pushed me into a brightly lit room. I blinked against the sudden light, my eyes struggling to adjust.

 After being in the dark cell for so long, everything felt too sharp and too bright.

 I hesitated for half a second while I struggled to stay put.

 A hand grabbed my arm.

 "I said stand still."

 "I''m trying," I whispered quickly, exhaustion rising.

 The grip loosened.

 Women entered the room. They were not like the armed men. They had a ofter movements and calmer faces.

 But their eyes... their eyes told me everything.

 They were just as important as the guards and on some level, maybe more ruthless.

 "Clean her," one of the men ordered the women before stepping out.

 That was it.

 The door was slammed shut and suddenly... I was surrounded.

 "Take off the dress," one of the women said.

 My breath hitched.

 "Wh...what?"

 She didn't even react. "Take. It. Off."

 My hands trembled as I reached for the fabric. The dress I had worn two nights ago felt heavier now.

  A lot dirtier too.

 Stained with dirt and tears and sweat and blood. It didn't belong on me anymore.

 I didn't belong in it anymore.

 I pulled it off slowly, my fingers shaking, my chest tight with humiliation.

 I wrapped my arms around myself immediately, trying to hide my nakedness, trying to feel like I still had any dignity left.

 They didn't care.

 Hands pulled me forward.

 Warm water hit my skin and I flinched.

 It had been so long since I felt anything gentle that my body didn't know how to react. My shoulders tensed, my breath uneven as they began to wash me.

 Carefully and efficiently like I was an object being prepared and not a person.

 "Stop shaking," one of them murmured as she washed my hair.

 "I can't," I whispered.

 She didn't respond.

 They scrubbed away the dirt. The blood. The evidence of everything that had happened. My husband's vile touch.

 The floor of the cell. The fear.

 But they couldn't scrub away what I felt inside.

 That stayed.

  I fear it was never going to leave.

 "Turn," another ordered.

 I obeyed immediately.I didn't even think about resisting anymore. There was no point.

 They rinsed my hair, brushing through it gently.  

 The softness of it made my throat tighten. I wasn't expecting this, didn't understand it and hence, I didn't trust it.

 This didn't feel like kindness.

 When they were done, they wrapped me in a soft cloth. Dried my skin. Dressed me in something new, simple, but clean.

 "Good," one of them said, stepping back. "He won't like mess."

 My stomach twisted.

 He.

 Bane.

 The door opened again. It was one of the guards that had brought me here.

 "Bring her. The boss wants to see her now"

 My heart started racing immediately.

 This was it.

 My feet moved before my mind could catch up. I followed them out, my hands clenched tightly at my sides, my breathing shallow.

 "Please..." I whispered before I could stop myself. "Don't-"

 "Stop talking," the man beside me snapped.

 I shut up immediately.

 We stopped in front of a large door. Bigger than the rest.

 The man knocked once and then opened it without waiting and took me inside.

 "Boss. The girl is here"

 The room was... different.

 It smelt like power and at the center of it... was him.

 Bane.

 He stood near the window, his back partially turned, hands in his pockets.

 "Leave us," he said.

 The man beside me obeyed immediately and left. The door shut.

 And suddenly...It was just Bane and I.

 I didn't move. I didn't speak. I didn't even know how to exist in the same space as him.

 He turned slowly.

 His eyes found mine again and just like before I couldn't look away.

 "Come here, Amaya."

 I took a step forward. Then another and another until I stopped a few feet away from him.

 He looked at me fully now and my heart was beating so fast I thought I might collapse.

 "You clean up well," he said.

 My throat tightened.

 "Thank you..."

 Why did I say that? Why was I thanking him?

 I didn't understand anything anymore.

 "You were married two days ago," he said.

 "Yes." My voice came out barely above a whisper.

 "And now?"

 I was almost excited to say the next words that came out of my mouth.

 "He's... dead."

 "I know. I was the one who ordered the hit."

  "What happens to me now?"

 I finally asked.

 Silence fell between us.

 "What happens now is that you belong to me, Amaya Vancouver."

 The words landed like a final blow.

 I froze and my mind went blank.

 "I....." My voice broke. I swallowed hard. "I don't understand..."

 His expression didn't change.

 "You were bought," he said simply. "Then taken," he took a step closer, "Now you're mine and belong to me."

 I shook my head slightly, panic rising.

 "Please... I can't... I don't want that"

 His hand moved suddenly gripping my chin. It wasn't violent but it was firm and unyielding.

 "You don't get to want," he said quietly.

 My breath stopped as tears filled my eyes instantly. This can't be happening to me.

 "Listen carefully," His voice cut through everything.

  "If you agree to be my little princess..." he said slowly, his grip tightening just enough to keep my attention, "you live."

 My heart pounded violently.

 "And if I don't?" I whispered.

 "I send you to meet your husband. I'm sure he misses you already."

 My knees nearly gave out. I sucked in a sharp breath, panic and fear and confusion crashing over me in waves.

 I had two options.

 Die...

 Or...

 Accept this.

 Accept this man who could be worse than Raul. But at least this time, I got to choose.

 My lips trembled but his eyes didn't leave mine.

 "I..."

 "Go on, princess" he said calmly.

 "I agree," I whispered.

 His grip loosened but he didn't step away.

 Instead his thumb brushed lightly against my cheek, and he leaned in and said to me.

 "You'll learn to love it here"