Chapter 93

[MIA]

I was in the center of a world every parent warns their children to avoid. When the tears dried, and my voice gave out from crying, begging, and screaming in the locked room, anger consumed me. He is the mafia. He is dangerous, a murderer. Those veiny arms and long fingers that had held my head were covered in blood.

And yet, he had misused his power to lock me in a gilded cage in his house. Although it was a huge room—about the size of my apartment—with gray walls, a huge bed, and a bathroom the size of my room, it was just that: a fancy cage.

The windows were high up, probably on the first floor, but guards were stationed below, unmoving. They hadn't moved in the four hours I'd been there.

My stomach rumbled, and though I shivered from cold and fear, I refused to get into the bed or under the blanket. I fell asleep hugging my knees on the floor.

When I opened my eyes again, no light seeped in from the windows. It was still dark. The door was still locked from the outside, and no one had interrupted my sleep or offered me food.

Or so I thought, until I saw a silhouette sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at me in the dim light.

“Oh my God!” I shrieked, clutching my chest.

“For a girl so tiny, you can make a lot of noise,” he commented, sounding grumpier than before.

“So you heard me screaming earlier?” I asked. The man from earlier stood from the bed. He was still in his clothes from the previous afternoon, but this time, his white shirt sleeve was bloodstained.

“Kind of hard not to when you wouldn’t be silent for a second.”

I gulped, rising to face him. “I—I’ve been silent for a while now.”

“Three hours,” he replied, standing six feet away. “I figured you’d died.”

My lips parted.

“A—And you didn’t send anyone to check?” I asked. Obviously, he wouldn’t care if I were dead, but his neutrality and apparent accustomance to it were terrifying.

“I did come to dispose of your body, didn’t I?” He sounded bored.

I breathed heavily. The more I talked to him, the more convinced I became that he was psychotic enough to kill an innocent family for fun and not bat an eye.

“Why,” I breathed, focusing on the question, “why am I here?”

“Need a recap? Did you hurt your head?” He deadpanned, arms crossed. “You stuck your nose where it didn’t belong, cupcake, and now you’re getting punished.”

“No… I—I mean… why am I here?” I tried to sound unfazed, which I wasn’t. “What are you going to do with me?”

His otherwise dark eyes twinkled in the dim light; one corner of his lip turned up. “Whatever I please, cupcake. That is your punishment. Your life is mine.”

“You—You can’t just do that!” My voice rose; thoughts of Jenny filled my head. She would keep waiting for me, and I would never appear. She’d think I abandoned her, and I was all she had left.

“Enlighten me,” he indulged. “Why can’t I?”

“Because—because I have a life outside! I have people, and—and I can’t just disappear.”

“Guess what?” He licked his lips, thoroughly amused. “You just did disappear, as if you never existed. And what life are you talking about? You’re a baker with no friends.”

I gulped, cursing myself for stuttering. The man before me was intimidating—that didn’t even begin to describe the psychotic devil he was. “How do you know that about me?”

“Did you really think I’d keep you under my roof without thoroughly investigating who you are?”

“I’m a normal person,” I begged. “I own a bakery, and I work hard, and I have dreams and a plan, and you can’t—” My voice broke into a whisper. “You can’t take it away from me.”

“I didn’t take it away from you. You gave it away when you decided to mess with the Mafia,” he replied nonchalantly.

“Please,” I whispered, feeling broken.

“Besides, it’s not like you have anyone who’s going to miss your vile life.”

His words stung, though I knew he was right. Everyone who would have missed me was dead except Jenny, but I couldn’t tell him that. If he were involved in Alina’s death, it would take him an hour to eliminate the last living member of her family.

“I have someone who would miss me,” I said.

“Who?” He raised an eyebrow.

“A—a boyfriend,” I blurted out before thinking.

“I see.”

“You see?”

He took a step closer, and I subconsciously moved backward, though my back was already against the wall. “What’s his name?”

I gulped, pressing myself further into the wall as he moved toward me. I wished the wall would open and swallow me.

“I asked what his name is, Mia?” He hissed, suddenly so close he was hovering over me.

No words came. How could I give him the name of a nonexistent person?

“I’m not going to repeat myself.”

“Why do you ask?” I barely whispered.

“So I can erase him from existence.” There was a promise in his voice, a determination that should have only scared me; instead, it sent a jolt through my body.

“I won’t tell you.”

“You won’t, huh?”

I shook my head timidly.

“Very well. Protect him then,” he replied in an eerily creepy voice, his face moving closer to mine. “But let me make one thing very clear. You are not leaving here, ever. You sold your life to me the moment you begged me to kill you. You are mine to keep, Mia, and mine to kill.”