Chapter 7 — Kiera
A few days had passed since the incident that nearly took my life. But I hadn’t been able to get that arrogant man out of my head. Each time I closed my eyes, his face would flash in my mind: his cocky smirk, tousled black hair, and cold gaze.
The condescending son of a bitch watched his victim attack me and did nothing to stop him. He told me to my face that it was because I never asked for help.
Was I supposed to? I thought he didn’t want me dead. So I figured he was going to stop the fuckin’ idiot from strangling me to death. He did not. And even until now, that pesky smirk of his still haunted me all the time.
I wasn’t entirely sure why I was pissed off at him for doing nothing. He was my captor, a ruthless monster. What did I expect? Yet I couldn’t help the rage coiling in my chest. I should be afraid of the man, the man whose victim chose death over capture.
How bad did someone have to be to push another person into taking their own life?
“He chose suicide because he was aware of what fate awaited him if I got hold of him again. One worse than death. One so cruel the devil would weep.”
His voice echoed in the back of my head, reminding me that he wasn’t a man I wanted to play with. He was the definition of evil, the devil incarnate. That’s the man who held me prisoner.
But why hadn’t he killed me yet?
He made it clear to my attacker that I wasn’t worth a dime to him. If that were true, why didn’t he kill me from the start? Also, what if my attacker hadn’t decided to take his own life? Would my captor have just stood there and let him strangle me to death?
The uncertainty of this unsettled me more than I thought. The man was unpredictable, and that made me dangerous. Very dangerous. The only reason I was still alive was because he allowed it. That’s what he said.
As much as it pained me to admit it, it was nothing but the truth. My life was in his hands; he had the power to decide my fate. I hated this situation with every fiber of my being, especially because I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
I’d studied this place like a book and had come to the conclusion that escape was impossible. The place was heavily guarded with armed men and trained hounds. Their barks alone were terrifying enough to separate one’s spirit from their body.
If I attempted an escape and, by some error of chance, I was able to elude the guards, the hounds would rip me to shreds. I wasn’t the kind to be easily intimidated or afraid. But those things looked like demons from the underworld. And that scared the hell out of me.
I always stayed in my lane, avoiding them like a plague. Another thing keeping me bound to the compound was the fence. Too high to jump over.
Even though I was allowed to roam around, I was still trapped in here with these vicious men. Most of them didn’t give a shit about me. But some did. They glared at me in ways that revealed their ill intentions. Murderous. Sexual.
Eww. Gross.
I knew that I was surrounded by wolves on a leash, waiting for their master’s order before they pounced on me.
The worst of them all was the angry dude, the one I kicked in the nuts on the day of my adoption. He never passed up the chance to tell me how much he would enjoy making me suffer when the time came.
He desperately wanted to be my executioner. Although I never let him see my fear, I was terrified deep down. And that fear only fueled my anger.
The only man here who didn’t strike me as a predator was the one who brought me food. His huge statue and eerie silence reminded me of the character Lurch from the show Wednesday.
Every time he brought me food, he only said one word: “Eat.”
At first, I didn’t want to because the food was disgusting. But after a whole day of starving, my stomach began to protest, begging me to put something in it. I didn’t have to enjoy the meal; I just needed to eat to stay alive.
The next time he showed up with another plate of food, I rushed the damn thing, swallowing without chewing. It didn’t matter whether it was delicious or not. The plan was to stay fed.
I meant it when I said the filthy cup wasn’t going to touch my lips. So each time I drank from it, I would lift my head and the cup, open my mouth, and pour the water down my throat.
I’d been doing this for days now. And slowly, I was turning into something primitive. I ate for survival. Slept on the hard floor in a dark, smelly room. Battled against mosquitoes every night. And my roommate was a dead rat.
The days were long, the nights were longer, and I felt like I was in hell. On the sixth day after our last encounter, I heard his voice outside that evening. My heart skipped a beat after realizing he’d finally come around.
I wasn’t sure what I felt, but it was a mix of fear and anger. I sat on the floor with my back against the wall, my pulse racing. Since it was his first time back here in almost a week, I had no doubt he’d drop by to chat with his prisoner.
I waited.
After a few minutes, I heard measured footsteps approaching my cell. I knew it was him—and the closer he drew, the faster my heart raced.
The footsteps stopped outside my door. Then, after a fleeting moment, the iron hinges creaked and gave way, revealing the man at the entrance. He was dressed in a black outfit—a plain shirt and a pair of creased pants.
As usual, his hands were gloved, and his hair was tousled like he never bothered to comb it. The top three buttons of his shirt were undone, and a loose tie was hanging around his neck.
My colleagues used to say that I never took my appearance seriously. But my negligence in that aspect was nothing compared to his. He was nonchalant about his looks, even though his clothes always screamed quality.
His polished shoes scuffed against the concrete as he walked inside. “This place smells like shit,” he said, meeting my gaze.
I locked my jaw, knowing he was trying to get on my nerves even though he just fuckin’ arrived.
“Smells like piss, actually,” I answered, maintaining a blank expression. “But don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”
He halted a few paces ahead, lips curling into a faint smirk. That smirk I hated so damn much. He glanced around the cell. “I see you’re settling in just fine. Although I can’t say I like what you’ve done with the place.”
Fuck you.
The scent of his cologne drifted into my nostrils: the first good smell I’d inhaled all week.
My face twisted into a frown. “What do you want? Why are you here?”
He let out a quiet chuckle. “I own the place. I can stop by whenever I want.”
My scowl deepened. “Oh, that’s right. I almost forgot you’re a vindictive monster who can do whatever he wants and get whatever he wants any time, any day.”
There it was again, that pesky little smirk.
“Don’t tell me after all this time you’re still holding a grudge.”
“Grudge?” I sprang to my feet, triggered by his words, his calmness, and that stupid grin. “Oh, Mr. Monster, we’re way past that right now.” I marched toward him as though I stood a chance.
He didn’t take his eyes off me, didn’t take a step forward or back. He only stood there, watching me as I vented my anger.
“We’re at the point where you have to choose whether you’re gonna kill me or let me go!” The words tumbled out in a frantic rush. “You can’t keep me here forever!”
“Why should I kill you or let you go? There’s no fun in that.”
Unbelievable.
“Fun?” My blood boiled with fury, and he just kept flashing me that smirk. “My misery is entertainment to you?”
He shrugged. “More or less.”
I shook my head, fingers curling into fists at my sides. “I can’t wait to see you behind bars, to see you pay for all your crimes.”
His brows arched in disbelief. “I’m intrigued by your na?veté, little lawyer, but you’re on the wrong side of this war.” He walked past me, eyes fixed on the finished plate of food in the corner.
“You might think you’re untouchable, but I promise you, you’re not.” I folded my arms across my chest and faced him.
He turned around. “You do realize the very system you have so much faith in has abandoned you, right?”
I paused, his words slicing through my heart like a sharp knife. “That’s not true—I’m sure they’re looking for me, and they’ll find me soon enough.”
He laughed, the kind that was both evil and mocking at the same time. “Don’t be ridiculous. They’ve moved on—probably even replaced you with that new intern.”
My breath hitched in my throat when I realized he had the power to influence the search for me. He had spies at the office, which is how he knew about the new intern. That detail wasn’t a random guess. It was a fact.
He walked over to me, his storm-gray eyes boring into mine. “The system you defend doesn’t give two shits about you. As long as the money keeps coming in and their pockets remain full, everyone else be damned.”
I felt my tear glands charging up, but I wasn’t going to let him see me vulnerable. No.
“You’re on your own, Kiera Jane,” he said, towering over me. “No one’s coming for you.”
My heart shattered in my chest, not because the justice system had failed me. But because men like my captor had already taken control. They were the ones calling the shots and puppeteering those who’d sworn to uphold the law.
What a shame.
He reached out, brushing my cheek with the back of his hand. “You have no political leverage, little lawyer. No institutional loyalty. No Godfather.”
My body trembled at his touch, my lips quivering subtly.
He continued, “You have no one of importance. Yet you decided to play a game you knew nothing about. Look where that got you.”
I tightened my jaw, refusing to let my tears drop.
“If you vanished, life would go on as if nothing had happened. And if you’re lucky enough, they might hang your picture on the wall of fallen heroes.”
His words hit me so hard that I felt like an idiot. He was stating facts, and I couldn’t detect any lies. It was harsh, but it was also the truth.