Strong-willed, badass and bounded by the chains of an arranged marriage, Isabela Arias dreams of the freedom to live and love as she chooses.
Being sold to the Italian mafia wasn't exactly on Isabela's to do list...
As she's forced to navigate the r...
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24 hours earlier
The metal handcuffs on my wrist clang against the legs of the bench when I try to lift them up to wipe my face. I can't remember when was the last time I wasn't chained to this shit. The darkness has always been my friend, but I'm ready to say goodbye to them. I've been ready for months, but — I stay trapped, restrained in solitary confinement.
It's been weeks.
I needed to check up on her.
He claims they're fine, but I don't trust a fucking word out of his mouth.
Nerves spike up at the sound of broken glass. Someone's here. It must be morning already. Being underground makes it easy to lose track of time, days, weeks, months. Instinctively, I bolt towards the bars, being hauled back by the cuffs on my wrist.
"Hey!" I shout, the metal scraping the floor. "I did what you wanted me to do. Why am I still caged up in here?"
A burst of white light emerges. My eyes squint, getting adjusted to the light streaming into the room. For the first time, I'm able to see where I've been resting for the last few months. I use the term months extremely loosely-- I honestly don't know how long it's been.
"Ready for breakfast?" His gritty, hoarse voice has to belong to Thomas. Creases form on the edges of his eyes, the sides of his mouth, and his forehead as he stiffens his features. He's pathetic. "We got your favorite-- yogurt with granola."
"Fuck off."
He drops the dish by the metal bar and steps away, his hands up in the air. "Suit yourself. Starve. I doubt my father has any further use for you."
"Do something useful for once, and get your father," I demand, my jaw clenching with irritation. "Maybe he can explain to me why I'm still chained here. All I want to do is check on my family."
"Tough shit!" He laughs, dangling the collection of at least a hundred keys around his neck. God, I could fucking choke him. "I'm just kidding. Eat your breakfast, and I'll take you to them."
"How the hell am I supposed to get it?" I shot back, failing to hold my chained hands in the air.
He smiles an uncomfortable, chilling one. "I'll bring it to you. Eat every last bite, and I will unchain you."
"Fine," I say through gritted teeth.
Thomas unlocks the cell, bends down to grab the bowl of yogurt on the ground, and stalks over to me. The wrinkles on his features have to mean he's at least in his late thirties. I could fucking take him. I'm stronger, younger, leaner, and wiser. His father gives him the shitty jobs around the prison cell because he knows that's all Thomas can handle. He's like a dog on a loose leash.
"Here." He hands over the medium-sized white bowl stuffed with colorless yogurt and granola clusters. The spoon is hidden underneath the product.
Snatching from him, I nearly devour the yogurt in five seconds and display the empty bowl to him. It tasted tangier than usual, but I didn't have time to question things with the promise of seeing my family over my head. Thomas can take it away any second. There's no doubt in my mind, that he would without a second thought.
