𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗩𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗮 𝗨𝗻𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲.
I never thought my world would crumble at the hands of a man like Alessandro Rossi-a 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 draped in silk suits and ruthlessness. One moment, I was Yasenia Fraga, daughter of the...
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5 hours ago.
I came to slowly, white-hot pain drilling through my skull as I struggled to open my eyes. Everything was foggy, like my brain had been scrambled. I tried to sort through the chaos, but it was like chasing shadows. Flashes of memory popped up—two black SUVs cutting me off, the sudden attack, and then nothing but black. And now, I was here, chained to some rusty metal pole in what looked like a crappy storage room. My head throbbed so badly I couldn't think straight.
How long had I been here?
The thought sent a ripple of panic through me. Every second felt like an hour, and the silence was crushing. Querido Deus, (dear God) why was this happening? Hadn't I been through enough already? I didn't know who to blame this time—myself, for being stupid enough to drive into god-knows-where without protection, or Alessandro, for being the reason I had to run in the first place. But blaming anyone didn't matter right now. Blame wouldn't get me out of here.
"Hello? Is anyone there?" I called out.
Nothing. Just the suffocating silence.
It felt like hours before the door finally burst open. A guy walked in carrying a tray of food. He shoved it at me without so much as a glance. "Eat," he said, all gruff and no patience.
I looked at the food like it might bite me. Eating was the last thing on my mind, all I needed was for my hands to be freed. "How?" I asked sharply, yanking at the cuffs on my wrists. "Or do you expect me to just faceplant into it?"
With an annoyed grunt, he unlocked one cuff and slapped a fork into my hand. "Fifteen minutes."
I smirked, hoping to have him free my other hand as well. "I'm left-handed."
"Cute," he said, completely unimpressed, and slammed the door on his way out.
I stared at the plate for a second before shoving it aside. My stomach twisted with fear. My brain kicked into overdrive, looking for a way out. I tugged at the other cuff, but all it did was dig into my skin. The metal just clung to my wrist, and the harder I pulled, the more hopeless it felt.
This couldn't be how it ended—locked up in some godforsaken storage room, waiting to die. I knew who was behind this. And I knew he wouldn't let me leave alive.
The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, growing louder. My stomach dropped. There was no way fifteen minutes had passed already. My heart pounded as the door creaked open.
He walked in—a towering figure in a dark grey suit that clung to his broad shoulders. His dark blond hair was slicked back with precision, not a strand out of place, and his piercing blue eyes locked onto me, cold and calculating. His sharp jawline was dusted with light stubble that didn't make him any less detestable. My blood turned to ice the moment I saw his face. Liam Bailey. I'd know that smug, punchable face anywhere.
