Chapter 5

Katarina POV At The Bookstore

I wiped down the counter for the third time, pretending the streaks mattered. Selena had already left, mumbling something about snacks. I didn't hear a word. My head was spinning.

The shadows outside the window shifted. Again.

That black car was still parked across the street. Same position. Same tinted windows. No one had come in or out. It had been there for hours.

I stared at it for a moment longer than I meant to.

Maybe it was nothing.

Maybe it was him.

I pulled my phone from my pocket.

Twelve missed calls.

Mateo.

My thumb hovered. I hadn't told him I was staying over at Selena's yet. I'd been too distracted. Too wrapped in… everything.

My finger shook as I hit redial.

Voicemail. Straight to it.

"What the hell, Mateo…" I muttered under my breath and fired off a text.

"Staying with Selena tonight. Everything okay?"

A beat passed. No reply.

I should've told him sooner. I should've

Ding.

My heart jumped. The reply wasn't from Mateo.

Unknown Number:

"Your father sold you cheap. I'll pay double to keep you quiet."

My blood went cold.

I dropped the phone. My breath locked in my throat.

No name. No trace.

Just those words.

Sold.

I grabbed the counter like it could steady me, like I could hold on to something real while my world crumbled under my feet.

"No," I whispered. "No. No. No"

The door burst open behind me.

I spun, heart hammering.

Selena.

Thank God.

She froze when she saw my face. "Kat? You okay?"

I nodded too fast. "Yeah. Fine. Just—fine."

She stepped in slowly, eyes scanning the store. "You look like you saw a ghost."

I didn't respond. Because I hadn't seen a ghost.

I'd seen a predator.

We locked up early. Selena insisted we take the long way back, and I didn't argue.

My phone buzzed again as we walked.

Unknown Number:

"You'll beg for my hands before this is over."

I nearly dropped it.

"Kat?"

"I'm fine," I lied. Again.

We didn't talk the rest of the walk.

That night, on Selena's couch, I didn't sleep.

The room was warm. Safe. Her cat snored at my feet.

But outside...

That was still there.

I could feel it parked beneath the flickering streetlamp. Watching.

I sat up, grabbed my phone, and scrolled.

Still nothing from Mateo.

Just that last message from the unknown number.

I reread it five times before I finally whispered aloud:

"You'll beg for my hands before this is over."

A part of me hated how my thighs pressed together.

How my body reacted like it missed him.

How I ached for the danger again.

You're disgusting, I told myself. You should be scared. You should run.

But I didn't move.

Because deep down, I knew the truth:

There's no way out.

Knock. Knock.

I stiffened.

Selena was asleep. I looked at the door.

Another knock. Louder.

I crept toward it, barefoot, holding my breath.

Then I heard it:

A low voice, smooth as sin.

"Open the door, piccola.

You ran last time.

Now I want you to crawl." I didn't Open

That night, I didn't sleep.

I collapsed into Selena's guest bed, but my body didn't rest.

It burned.

ASLEEP

I was naked in a marble hallway.

White floors. Endless mirrors. No exits.

The air was warm and smelled like blood and roses.

My reflection stared back at me — flushed cheeks, bruised lips, thighs slick with something shameful. I was trembling, but not from fear. From want.

Then he stepped from the darkness.

The Don.

He didn't speak at first.

His shirt was half open, revealing a chest carved from something wicked. His belt hung in his hand like a threat.

Those emerald eyes pinned me in place.

"I told you," he said, voice low, rough like broken stone. "Run, and I'll break you."

I didn't run.

He was on me in two strides, pressing me hard against the mirrored wall. One hand fisted in my hair, the other wrapped around my throat—not enough to hurt, just enough to control.

"You liked kneeling for me, didn't you?"

I wanted to lie. Wanted to say no.

But my body betrayed me. My lips parted. My legs shook.

"Yes," I whispered.

He smiled then. A cruel, gorgeous thing.

He licked the side of my face, slow and possessive.

Then he shoved me down to my knees.

"Show me how much."

I opened my mouth without hesitation, tongue out like I was starved. His cock was already hard, heavy, flushed dark at the tip. I took him deep, swallowing around him, tears slipping from my eyes as he hit the back of my throat.

"That's it," he groaned. "My filthy girl. My obedient little mouth."

I sucked harder, faster. His fingers curled in my hair, dragging me up before I could finish.

He spun me around and bent me over a glass table that hadn't been there seconds ago. My reflection stared up at me — eyes wide, lips swollen, need dripping down my thighs.

"You're wet for me," he said, dragging two fingers through my folds. "Disgusting."

I whimpered.

He didn't give me time to breathe.

He thrust inside me in one brutal stroke — no warning, no mercy — and I shattered.

"This is mine now," he growled, pounding into me. "Your body. Your mouth. Your screams. All mine."

His hand clamped over my mouth as I came, crying against the glass, legs buckling beneath him.

"You love being used," he snarled. "Say it."

"I love it," I gasped. "I love it. I love you."

He didn't stop.

He fucked me harder, dragging orgasm after orgasm from my trembling body until I couldn't tell if I was begging for more or for mercy.

And then he kissed my shoulder. Soft.

"Next time, piccola... I'll leave marks they can't hide.

I came with a sob, knees shaking. I clawed the window like it could hold me up.

I jolted awake, drenched in sweat, my thighs sticky, my heart racing.

I clutched the blanket, burying my face in it as shame flooded me.

What is wrong with me?

I was wet, aching, and still felt his breath on my skin.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream.

But I couldn't forget the way it felt.

I covered my mouth with both hands, as if the moan still echoing in my throat could betray me.

The Next Morning AT HOME

Selena left early. I told her I needed to stop home to grab clothes.

I thought I'd sneak in. Quiet. Avoid Mom.

But the second my key turned, I immediately sensed it.

Something was off.

The handle was busted. The lock, scraped.

Inside, the lights were off, but I could smell it. Cheap cologne. Stale whiskey.

Then I saw him.

On the couch.

My father.

Passed out, mouth hanging open, arms spread like he owned the place again.

No.

No, no, no.

"He's back?" I whispered. "He came back?"

My stomach twisted.

Mateo didn't say a word. He'd just... let me walk into this?

Or maybe he didn't know.

I clutched my phone. My hand was shaking as I opened my messages.

Still nothing from Mateo.

I texted him again:

"He's here. Why didn't you warn me?"

I backed up toward the door, my eyes never leaving the disgusting shape of the man who'd given me nightmares for years.

And then —

his eyes opened.

Bloodshot. Direct. He was already awake.

"Where the fuck do you think you been, girl?"

My throat dried up. I couldn't move. Couldn't blink.

"I asked you a question," he slurred, rising slowly to his feet. "You think you can run off and come back when you like?"

His voice was quieter now. Scarier that way. The kind of calm that meant something awful was coming.

"I…I just needed clothes," I said. "I wasn't..I didn't mean.."

He stepped toward me.

My back hit the door.

"You got no more say in anything," he said darkly. "Not after what I did for this family."

My voice shook. "What did you do?"

He smiled.

Pulled a folded paper from his jacket and tossed it on the table.

A contract. My name printed at the top. His signature at the bottom. A cartel seal burned into the corner.

"I sold you, Katarina. You're leaving. Tonight."

"Pack something nice." he sneered. Giordano likes his girls pretty."

And just like that, my world collapsed.

"He wanted me to crawl. But I'd rather die choking on his cock than letting him own me. He'll learn that soon."