Chapter 5 – Violet
I’m pacing the length of the bedroom—no, prison—back and forth like a caged animal.
My bare feet are cold against the marble floor, but the fury pumping through me keeps me warm.
I have no idea what time it is, or even what day.
I don’t care. All I know is that I’m trapped here, and I’ve had enough.
I’ve gone over every possible escape plan in my head. None of them work. The windows are sealed. The door has no visible handle. The hallways echo with guards. I’m screwed.
Did that insane bastard just call me his? Like I’m his freaking property? Wait, am I in some kind of simulation?
I’m just about to scream into one of the silk pillows like a deranged maniac when the door clicks open.
I whirl around, expecting him again.
But it’s not Kaz. Or Maxim. It’s someone new.
She’s tall, lithe, and dressed in the most colorful thing I’ve seen in days—a lime green sleeveless hoodie, cargo pants with embroidered flowers, and full-sleeve tattoos dancing down both arms like stories inked in rebellion.
Her hair is shaved on the sides and platinum on top, styled in a sharp pixie cut.
Black lipstick. Black nails. A knowing glint in her eye.
She locks the door behind them and leans back against it like she’s just walked into a cocktail party.
I blink, fascinated by her appearance. “You’re…you don’t look like the others.”
She grins. “Thank God for that.”
“Who are you?” I ask, breath caught halfway between suspicion and relief.
“Arina Morova,” she says, strolling into the room with easy confidence. “Security chief. Tech god. Emotional support chaos gremlin. Take your pick.”
I stare.
She holds out a hand. “They/them, by the way. I bite, but only if you’re into that.”
Despite myself, I snort. “You’re joking.”
They shrug. “Most of the time. But not about your situation.”
My smile disappears.
“I know who you are,” Arina says, coming to sit cross-legged on the edge of the velvet chaise lounge. “Violet Harrison. Literature major. Freelance murder reports. Closet romantic who probably has a Harlequin paperback hidden under her pillow right now.”
I blink. “How do you—?”
They tap their temple. “Tech expert, remember?”
I exhale slowly, dropping onto the nearby chair. “So what? You came to accuse me, too?”
Their face softens.
“No. I came because…I know you’re innocent. And I don’t like what Kaz is doing. You were just in the wrong alley at the wrong time. That’s it.”
“Then why am I still here?” I snap.
“Because Kaz is Kaz,” Arina mutters, looking at the ceiling like they’re asking the universe for patience. “And when he gets an idea in his head, he doesn’t let go. Especially when that idea has legs and a sharp tongue and eyes like yours.”
I flush. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” they say carefully, “he’s keeping you here for more reasons than just your camera.”
I stare at them.
They lean in, lowering their voice. “I’m not defending him. I just want you to know you’re not alone in this place. And Kaz might come on a little strong, but he’s a sweet man.”
“Sweet? That’s one word for kidnapper.”
They raise an eyebrow, but I barrel on.
“So what now? You come here to play good cop? To tell me I’m innocent but still let me rot in this gilded cage? Great. Wonderful. Truly. You and your Hades can go to hell.”
Arina blinks. “Hades?”
I wave a hand dramatically. “You know—tall, dark, terrifying? Bleeds power and talks like he owns your soul? He’s practically a Greek villain. Might as well give him the nickname. He probably lives for that kind of attention.”
A slow grin spreads across Arina’s face. “Oh, so you do think he’s hot.”
“What—no!” I snap, heat rising in my cheeks.
“Mhm,” they hum, clearly entertained. “You just compared him to the god of the underworld. That’s at least a seven on the ‘I hate him but he’s sexy’ scale.”
I glare at them, folding my arms. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re not very subtle.”
I turn away before they see the truth flash across my face. Because fine—yes, Kaz is a monster. He’s cold, arrogant, and violent. But the problem is…that’s not all he is. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t ignore the way my stomach flips every time he enters the room.
Arina doesn’t press. “Look, Violet. I’m not saying any of this is fair. It’s not. But I also know Kaz well enough to say this—he’s not keeping you here for the photos. He deleted those the second he got them.”
I whip around. “What?”
“They’re gone,” they confirm.
I sit back on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped around my knees. “So what now? I just…stay here and hope Kaz wakes up one day with a change of heart?”
Arina exhales softly, then lowers themselves into the armchair across from me. “No. Not just hope. I’m working on him.”
I lift my gaze to them, skeptical. “You are?”
They nod, twirling a ring on their inked finger. “Every day. I’m not the one in charge, Violet—but I do talk to him. A lot. And trust me, he listens to me. Sometimes.”
I search their face, unsure why I believe them, but I do. There’s something honest in the way they speak, like they’re just trying to soothe me. They reach into the deep pocket of their cargo pants and pull out a sleek black phone.
“What’s that?” I ask, eyeing it warily.
“A phone,” they say simply, crossing the room and placing it into my hand. “Limited access, but it works. You can text. No calls. No location tracking.”
I blink. “You’re giving me a phone?”
“Don’t make it weird,” they mutter with a smirk. “You’ll need something. To talk to someone. Keep your head on straight. But listen carefully, Violet—only use it when you’re in the bathroom or the walk-in closet. This room has cameras.”
I tense. “What?”
They tilt their head. “You think Kaz would leave you unsupervised after that mouth of yours? He’s watching. Maybe not every second, but when he’s not, the feed is recording. You want privacy, the bathroom’s your best bet. The closet, too, but only for short stretches. You’ll know when it’s safe.”
“Are the cameras watching now?”
“Yes. But don’t worry about it.” They wave. “I’ll take care of it.”
I swallow hard, gripping the phone tighter. “Why are you doing this?”
Arina shrugs again, but it’s more guarded this time. “Because you deserve to have some say in your own life—even if it’s a quiet, secret one.”
I nod slowly.
Their voice drops into something more serious.
“But don’t mistake this as permission to be reckless.
Do not—and I mean do not—try to escape. This place is a fortress.
Armed guards. Locked gates. Bolted windows.
Infrared sensors at night. You’ll get caught, and if Kaz finds out you tried to run, it won’t end pretty. He’ll take it personally.”
I feel the blood drain from my face. “Got it.”
Arina leans closer, their tattoos catching the light. “He’s unpredictable. Dangerous, yeah—but not stupid. You don’t want to test how far he’ll go. So keep your head down, use the phone smartly, and stay alive until I figure out what the hell I can do.”
I nod again, this time slower, heavier. “Thanks.”
They tap the phone gently in my palm, then straighten. “Delete every message after you send it. You’re smart. I know you’ll manage.”
And just like that, they’re gone again.
The second the door clicks shut behind Arina, I jump to my feet, heart racing.
I sprint to the closet like it’s a bomb shelter, flip on the dim light, and shut the door behind me. My fingers tremble as I pull the burner from my pocket and open the messaging app. Fortunately, I know Noelle’s number by heart.
Me: Noelle. Don’t freak out. I was kidnapped. I don’t know exactly where I am, but it’s a mansion. Rich. Guarded. It’s connected to those photos I took with my camera. I will send more updates when I can!!
I hit send, my thumb hovering to see if it goes through.
Delivered.
Barely a second later, I hear footsteps. Heavy. Fast. Thundering across the hall.
Shit.
I snap into panic mode. I delete the messages, shut the phone off, and shove it into the empty shelf. My chest is heaving, but I force my legs to move. I dart out of the closet, close the door behind me, and throw myself back onto the bed just as the main door swings open.
Of course, it’s him. The fucking bastard. Arrogant jerk with icy eyes and a smile that could make a nun sin. I shoot upright in bed, all pretense gone, my voice lashing out before I can stop myself.
“Oh, look who decided to drop by. What is it this time? More threats? Another cage? Or are you just here to gloat?”
He doesn’t react, just steps in casually like this is his living room and I’m his houseguest instead of his prisoner.
I don’t wait for him to speak. “Let me go, Kaz. I won’t go to the police, I swear. I won’t tell anyone. You can keep your little mafia kingdom. Just let me out of this nightmare.”
He chuckles—actually chuckles—and my blood boils.
“You can go to the police if you want, Violet,” he says lazily. “I don’t give a damn.”
“God, you’re insane,” I hiss, pushing off the covers and standing, my fists clenched. “You kidnapped me. You shot someone. And now you’re acting like this is some kind of twisted sleepover?”
His gaze is unreadable, cool as ever, but there’s something simmering beneath it. “Why haven’t you been eating?”
That knocks me off balance for a second. “What?”
“You heard me,” he says, stepping forward just a little. “I told the staff to feed you. You’ve barely touched anything.”
I cross my arms, lifting my chin defiantly. “I’m not hungry.”
His eyes narrow just slightly. “Starving yourself won’t change anything.”
I glare at him. “Neither will keeping me locked in here.”
For a beat, neither of us speaks. The air between us is charged, sharp. I can practically hear my own pulse pounding in my ears.
He stares at me like he’s trying to see through me. I stare back like I’m daring him to try.
If he thinks I’m going to break, he’s dead wrong. He may own this house. But he doesn’t own me.