Aria sat cross-legged on the cold concrete floor, her back pressed against the wall. Her wrists still ached from the ropes, but at least she had managed to get them loosened a little. It was a small victory, but any victory was important. It gave her hope, and hope was something she desperately needed. Every time Elliott came into the room, she could feel the darkness emanating from him, the hatred that fueled his every move. She needed to understand him, to get under his skin.
The door creaked open, and Elliott entered, his presence filling the small room. Aria kept her expression neutral, hiding the storm of emotions swirling inside her. He was holding a tray, and the smell of food made her stomach rumble. It was the first hot meal he’d brought her, and she couldn’t help but feel suspicious.
Elliott set the tray down in front of her, then took a step back, watching her closely.
Elliott: “Eat.”
Aria hesitated, but hunger won over caution. She reached for the bowl of soup, sipping it slowly, her eyes never leaving Elliott’s face. He seemed different today—calmer, almost reflective. It was a sharp contrast to the cold, calculated demeanor he usually wore.
Aria: “Why are you doing this? The real reason.”
Elliott sat down across from her, his eyes narrowing.
Elliott: “You ask a lot of questions for someone in your position.”
Aria met his gaze, refusing to back down.
Aria: “You keep telling me I took something from you, but you won’t say what it is. How am I supposed to understand if you won’t tell me?”
Elliott studied her for a moment, then leaned back, a bitter smile tugging at his lips.
Elliott: “You want to know why you’re here? Fine. My family is dead because of you. Every single one of them. My wife, my children. Gone. And it’s your fault.”
Aria felt a chill run down her spine. She shook her head, confusion clouding her thoughts.
Aria: “I don’t understand. I’ve never met your family. I don’t even know who they are.”
Elliott’s smile twisted into a sneer.
Elliott: “That’s where you’re wrong. You’ve met them, alright. My father was Charles Wilson. You knew him, didn’t you?”
The name hit her like a physical blow. Charles Wilson—the infamous businessman known for his ruthless tactics. She had heard stories, rumors of his dealings in the underworld, but she had never met him. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the connection.
Aria: “I…I knew of him, but I never met him. I had nothing to do with him.”
Elliott’s eyes darkened, a shadow passing over his face.
Elliott: “My father wasn’t just a businessman. He was a mafia lord, running one of the most powerful cartels in the country. And you…you were the one who exposed him.”
Aria’s breath caught in her throat. She remembered now—the article she had written for the magazine, a piece exposing corruption within the business world. It had caused a stir, leading to investigations and arrests. But she had no idea it was connected to someone like Charles Wilson.
Aria: “That was just an article. I was doing my job. I didn’t know…”
Elliott cut her off, his voice cold.
Elliott: “Your article started a chain of events that led to my family being targeted. Whoever wanted revenge on my father came after us. My wife, my children—they’re dead because of you.”
Aria’s heart pounded in her chest, guilt washing over her. She had never intended for anyone to get hurt, had never imagined her work could lead to something like this. But Elliott’s words were like a knife, cutting deep.
Aria: “I’m sorry…I didn’t know…”
Elliott stood up abruptly, his eyes flashing with anger.
Elliott: “Sorry doesn’t bring them back. And now, you’re going to pay for what you’ve done.”
Days turned into weeks, and Aria’s world shrank to the confines of her small cell. Elliott’s visits became more frequent, his questions more probing. He seemed to take pleasure in her discomfort, in the fear that flickered in her eyes. But there were moments when she saw something else in him—a flicker of pain, a hint of vulnerability.
One night, after a particularly tense conversation, Elliott lingered by the door, his gaze distant. Aria watched him, sensing an opportunity.
Aria: “You miss them, don’t you? Your family.”
Elliott’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t turn around.
Elliott: “What do you know about missing someone?”
Aria: “I know what it’s like to lose someone you love. My parents died when I was young. I know the pain doesn’t go away.”
Elliott turned to face her, his eyes searching hers.
Elliott: “It’s not the same. You have no idea what it’s like to lose everything, to have your entire world ripped away from you.”
Aria’s voice softened, genuine empathy in her tone.
Aria: “No, I don’t. But I can imagine. And I’m sorry for your loss. Truly.”
Elliott’s expression wavered for a moment, a crack in the mask he wore. But then he hardened, turning away.
Elliott: “Save your sympathy. It’s too late for that.”
He left the room, the door slamming shut behind him. Aria sat in the silence, her thoughts racing. She had seen a glimpse of the man behind the mask, a flicker of humanity buried beneath the layers of anger and hatred. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
The next morning, Aria woke with a sense of determination. She had spent the night replaying Elliott’s words in her mind, searching for a way to reach him. He was broken, consumed by grief and anger. But beneath it all, he was still human. And if she could reach that part of him, she might have a chance.
Aria stood up, her resolve firm. She had to get him to trust her, to see her as more than just an enemy. She would use every tool at her disposal—charm, empathy, manipulation. Whatever it took to survive.
When Elliott returned, she was ready. He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes. Aria could see the weight he carried, the burden of his past.
Aria: “You look tired. You’re not sleeping well, are you?”
Elliott scowled, but didn’t respond. Aria pressed on, her voice soft.
Aria: “I know you’re angry, but holding onto that anger won’t bring them back. It won’t help you heal.”
Elliott’s eyes flashed with anger, but there was something else there too—a flicker of uncertainty.
Elliott: “You think you know me? You think you can fix me?”
Aria shook her head, her gaze steady.
Aria: “No. I don’t think I can fix you. But I can help you. We can help each other. You don’t have to be alone in this.”
Elliott stared at her, his expression unreadable. For a moment, Aria thought she had reached him, that she had broken through the walls he had built around himself. But then he turned away, his voice cold.
Elliott: “You’re wrong. I am alone. And nothing you say will change that.”
He left the room, and Aria’s heart sank. She had been so close, but it wasn’t enough. She knew she had to try harder, to dig deeper. Elliott was a man on the edge, and she had to find a way to pull him back.
As the door closed behind Elliott, Aria took a deep breath, her mind racing. She had seen a glimpse of the man behind the mask, and she knew she couldn’t give up. She would find a way to reach him, to break through the darkness that consumed him. She had to—because her life depended on it.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Ties
Romance**"Broken Ties"** Aria Grace was living a normal life until the day she was abducted by Elliott Wilson, a man whose enigmatic charm masked the darkness within. Held captive for half a year, Aria endured unspeakable torment at the hands of her captor...
