When y/n awoke, she was alone, the sheets tangled around her like a cocoon of despair. The room was silent, save for the faint tick of a clock on the wall, a reminder that time was slipping away from her.
Her body ached, a dull throb that served as a grim reminder of what had occurred. She took a deep breath, the scent of their cologne still lingering in the air, and felt a surge of nausea.
With trembling hands, she reached for the handcuffs on the nightstand, but they were gone. A glimmer of hope flickered within her. Had they underestimated her? Or was this another part of their twisted game?
Y/n slid out of bed, her legs wobbly from the alcohol and the trauma. She wrapped herself in the plush bathrobe she found hanging on the back of the door and stepped into the quiet hallway. The cold marble floor sent a shiver up her spine, a stark contrast to the warmth of the room she'd just left. She had to find a way out, to get away from these monsters.
Her bare feet padded softly down the hall, the only sound the muffled beat of her racing heart. She passed closed doors, each one a potential prison for another unfortunate soul. Her hand reached for the handle of the first door she came to, her breath held in anticipation. But it was locked, the cold metal mocking her desperation.
The second door revealed a storage room, filled with boxes and cleaning supplies. Y/n's eyes scanned the space, searching for anything she could use as a weapon. Her hand closed around a mop handle, the plastic end snapping off with a satisfying crack. It wasn't much, but it was something.
Her makeshift weapon in hand, she continued down the hall, her steps growing more confident with each silent footfall. She had to find an exit, or at least a phone. But the house was a labyrinth of opulence, each turn looking eerily similar to the last. The air was thick with the scent of fear and desperation, and she could feel the eyes of the mafia members on her, even though she couldn't see them.
As she approached the end of the corridor, she heard faint whispers and laughter drifting from an open doorway. She peered in, her heart racing. The room was filled with the other gang members, lounging on luxurious couches and sipping drinks as if they didn't have a care in the world. Their eyes flicked to her, and she stepped back, her heart pounding in her chest.
Jeongin, the youngest of the group, looked up, his eyes lighting up with curiosity.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" He set down his glass and stalked towards her, the other members watching with amusement.
Y/n's grip tightened on the mop handle, her knuckles white. "Stay away," she warned, her voice stronger than she felt.
But Jeongin only chuckled, his eyes raking over her trembling form.
"You're going to be a handful, aren't you?"
Y/n stepped back, her back hitting the wall. The mop handle felt pathetic in her grasp, but it was all she had. "I'm not going to marry any of you," she said, her voice steady despite her racing pulse.
Jeongin's smile grew, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh, you'll do more than that," he said, his voice a seductive purr. He reached out, his hand grabbing her wrist. She tried to pull away, but he was too quick.
"You're going to be the center of our world, darling."
With a snarl, y/n swung the mop handle at him, but he easily dodged it, his laughter echoing through the hallway. The other gang members watched the scene unfold with hungry eyes, their smiles widening at her display of defiance.
"Looks like we've got a fighter," Changbin said, his tone filled with amusement.
"She's just playing hard to get," Han retorted, his eyes never leaving y/n's trembling form.
Felix smirked, his gaze raking over her. "We'll have to show her who's in charge."
Y/n's heart sank as the other members of the gang approached, their eyes gleaming with excitement. Her hand tightened around the mop handle, her knuckles white with the effort of holding onto her last shred of dignity.
"Let me go," she demanded, her voice shaking with fear and anger.
"Or what?" Jeongin challenged, his grip on her wrist tightening. "You'll do exactly what we say," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear.
