I’ve spent the last three days in my room. And, just as Matteo said, I’ve been left completely alone. No one has come to check on me. No one has barged in and demanded sex. No one has hurt me.

I’m completely forgotten about as long as I stay in this room.

It’s the most beautiful room I have ever stayed in. And, if I wasn’t in my current predicament, then I would actually appreciate sleeping in a room like this. I would breathe in every smell, study every stone, and enjoy the gorgeous sunlight pouring in through all the large windows in the room. I would pretend I was a princess in the highest room of the castle and enjoy the warmth of the fireplace while snuggled in Arlo’s arms.

But, instead, I’ve spent the last three days afraid of every sound in the mansion. My body shakes when I hear footsteps outside, seemingly growing closer to me. I tremble and search for anything I can use to defend myself against an intruder, but I don’t have many options. The room has been stripped of anything that might be used as a weapon.

Every time the footsteps stop, I am safe again. It’s taken me three days to realize that Matteo was telling the truth. That, as long as my foot doesn’t cross the threshold of the door, then I am safe.

But I am also trapped.

Trapped in a charming prison cell with no one and nothing to keep me company. Matteo was right that, if the lack of food didn’t kill me, the boredom would. There isn’t a TV in the room. Not a single book. Not even a piece of art to savor. The only entertainment I’ve had these past three days are the birds in the garden below and the sound of footsteps.

I’ve tried coming up with a plan to escape, but the bracelet wrapped around my wrist concerns me. Matteo didn’t tell me exactly what would happen if I ran. But I believed him when he said it wouldn’t be good. I’d rather die than be someone’s slave even if there is the possibility of freedom again one day. I can’t handle being controlled.

I’ve spent seven years training for today. I’m in the best shape of my life. All I would have to do is slip out in the middle of the night and run into town. The town isn’t more than ten miles away from here. I could easily run that before anyone noticed I was gone.

But then what? Would the bracelet explode and kill me?

Even if it didn’t, I have no doubt that they would hunt me down and kill me. I’m sure I read something in that document about reasons that they can kill me. And running away from them is one of them.

Death. It would be a sweet release compared to whatever they have in store for me. But I can’t do that to Eden. I can’t do that to Heath. I have people who love me. People who are looking for me. I have to find a way to escape that doesn’t end in my death. At least, at first; maybe, later, I will feel differently. But I owe it to them to fight.

I walk to the window as the sun rises. I haven’t slept in three days. The fear of the unknown has overcome any need for sleep. Making me unsure if the memories that keep coming back from that night when Arlo saved me are real or imagined. They are most likely just hallucinations, but still, I can’t get them out of my head.

I see Arlo everywhere.

I see his face from when I took the drink.

I see the worried expression as he lifted my broken body in his arms.

I remember the smell of his cologne as he stayed with me all night long until I came to.

But I remember others, too. The entire family there. I remember signing something. And I remember a date. I think I’ve always known the date. It’s why I was so desperate to get married on that day. I needed to feel in control. That it was my date to claim instead of waiting for them to come for me.

My stomach growls again, and the pains of not eating are real and constant. I know that I can’t survive alone in here much longer.

I just can’t bring myself to venture out of this room. I thought that maybe—

I shake my head. I can’t think like that. Arlo is not my friend. He’s not my lover. He’s nothing. He doesn’t care about me, and he won’t save me. He made that perfectly clear on the plane and then again when he left me alone with his father and brother.

His father scares me to death. I have no doubt that I should stay clear of him. But Matteo intrigues me. Maybe it’s just because he looks so much like Arlo. It’s just the attraction that I feel to them that makes my heart soften just a little toward both of them. But Matteo does seem to have a soft spot. He’s not like Arlo. He might actually have a heart.

He might be the one I should aim my plan at. If I can get him to fall in love with me, then maybe he’ll save me from this mess. Maybe the rest of the family will leave me alone then. I just have to get over my disgust at any man, even a man as good-looking as Matteo, touching me.

My stomach growls again, and I can’t stand it any longer. The sun has just risen, so hopefully, the rest of the family isn’t awake yet. I can sneak down to the kitchen, swing by the library to grab a couple of books, and then be back up in my room before anyone else is even awake. It will give me more time to figure out an escape plan that doesn’t involve selling my body to save my soul.

I creep to the door and listen for footsteps, but I hear none. I grab the handle of the doorknob and slowly turn it, afraid that it might be locked and that I will be trapped in here forever, dying a slow death or at least locked away to weaken me until I’m broken.

But it’s not locked.

I slowly open the door and look down the long, dark hallway. I don’t see or hear anyone.

I start walking quickly down the hallway, my heart beating wildly in my chest and my breathing quick, terrified that I’m going to be caught at any second.

I round a corner and about run into a maid. I freeze, afraid that she is going to hurt me. But she doesn’t. She just ignores me, walking past me down the hallway like I’m invisible.

Maybe I am.

I keep walking down the hallway and then down the stairs toward the kitchen that Matteo showed me yesterday. I gather my nerve, and I walk into the dining room that leads to the kitchen. I’m just going to grab anything that I can and then run back upstairs.

I walk inside, planning on doing just that, when I freeze. Eight pairs of eyes look up at me all at once from the table.

Shit.

The entire Carini family is sitting at the dining table along with a couple of other men I don’t recognize. It can’t be much past six in the morning, yet there they all sit. Like they knew today was the day that I would finally make my appearance. None of them seem surprised to see me.

But my plan to grab food and run no longer seems possible. I don’t really know what to do. I try to ignore them and walk to the kitchen. No one has given me a command. No one has ordered that I strip in front of them. They haven’t done anything that deserves any fear. It was probably just all talk anyway to mess with my head. I’ll just spend my time cleaning or working for them. They won’t actually rape me. The plan is still the same. I will just grab some food and head back to my room to eat it.

When I enter the kitchen, I find a buffet table of food. The servants all seem to ignore me as I walk over and grab a plate of food. That’s when I realize they might be slaves, too. People who owe a debt to the Carini family.

I walk over to a young woman who can’t be more than twenty. “Are you a slave, too?” I ask.

She smiles sweetly as she continues to chop vegetables. “No, ma’am. I’m a servant. The Carini family is a good employer that pays well. I gladly work for them.”

I sigh. “I’m a slave. Help me escape.”

She smiles. “You owe them a debt. You can leave when it’s been paid back.”

I frown. This woman won’t help me.

“Are there more like me?”

“Of course there are more people who owe the Carini family a debt. But you are the only one who owes such a steep price.”

I don’t know what the hell she means, but I’m not going to stay here and figure it out. I start walking back out of the kitchen, hating that it is connected to the dining room and that I’m going to have to walk back through it to get to my room.

I step out and feel everyone’s eyes on me again, but I don’t make eye contact back. I keep my head held high as I walk through the dining room.

“Sit down, slave,” Enrico says.

I freeze and turn to him, hating the command even though it is a simple one to follow. I won’t do it because he commanded me to.

“I’m eating in my room.”

He laughs. “No, you aren’t. You are eating with us.”

I shake my head and then keep walking when I hear a snap of fingers, and two men I don’t know rush over. One grabs my plate of food out of my hands while the other grabs hold of me and drags me to the table, forcing me into a seat.

“Thank you for joining us for breakfast, slave,” Enrico says, laughing.

I try to get up again, but the man forces me back into my seat.

“You eat with us, or you don’t eat at all.”

I want to be defiant. I want to say that I won’t eat, but I can’t. I need the food. If I’m going to fight any bigger battles, I need my strength. And I have nothing left after not eating or sleeping for the last few days.

So, I stay in my seat, and I start eating quickly, hoping that the faster I eat, the less time I have to spend with these disgusting people.

I see Arlo sitting at the far end of the table. He looks at me in disgust and then gets up from the table. He doesn’t save me. He doesn’t care.

I keep eating, and I’m again mostly ignored. I don’t know why I was forced to eat at the table when none of them seem to care that I’m even here.

Enrico finally gets up from the table, as do a couple of the men. He walks over to me, and my heart stops.

“Enjoy the rest of your breakfast, slave.”

He grabs my chin and licks the side of my face while I freeze, not expecting him to touch me. My heart races, and my face turns red, but my body doesn’t react.

“I can’t wait to have you for breakfast. We have some work to do, but I will see you again soon, slave.”

He lets go of my chin and walks out of the room while I’m left to deal with his saliva on my face along with the threat of what tomorrow could bring. My anger grows as I wipe my face with a napkin. He knows I hate being controlled, and he is using it against me. Pushing my buttons so that he can do whatever he wants to me.

I try to remain calm. I don’t have the strength now to fight him. It’s not worth it. Let him do what he wants, call me what he wants. I’m not a slave, and no matter what I signed, I don’t owe him or his family anything. It was their choice to save me. They should have let me die.

When the men are gone, I finish shoveling in my breakfast. There are a few other women still sitting at the table. None of them seem to give a shit about what just happened. They just continue eating. It takes me a second to notice the one person left at the table who might care—Gia. She stares at me the whole time I eat. She’s not a little girl anymore like she was the last time I saw her. She’s a woman. A beautiful woman who might be on my side.

Does she think what is happening to me is wrong? Will she help me escape?

If I were alone with her, I would ask. She seemed to have a heart the last time we were together. But I don’t dare ask her now with others in the room who could report back to Enrico.

I finish eating every last drop of food on my plate, and then I get up. Knowing that, even if Gia commands me to do something, she has no way of enforcing me to do it. Not with the men gone. She would be foolish to command anything of me and show what little control she actually had over me. So, when I get up from the table, she says nothing.

My plan was to grab some books from the library and then run back to my room. But, after breakfast, I can’t handle the thought of spending another second trapped in this house, replaying that moment with the disgusting slobber on my face over and over again.

So, instead of going back to my room, I do something impulsive. Something stupid. But it’s the only thing I know how to do after years of doing just that. I run.

* * *

I know the fastest way out of the house. I memorized the path when Matteo gave me the tour of the house. I never thought I would run.

I was done running.

But, right now, I’m running for my life.

It doesn’t take me long to run out of the house. Just three rooms and two doors were all it took for me to be outside. I’m sure I ran by staff, other members of the family, someone. But, if I did, I didn’t see them.

All I could focus on was getting outside as fast as my legs would take me.

When the warm air hits my face, my mind starts swirling, thinking about what I just did. The bracelet is warm on my wrist, reminding me of Matteo’s threat. My heels catch on the stone floor, and I trip, falling to the ground, rubbing even more dirt into my wedding dress.

There were plenty of clothes that I could have changed into in the closet. I had access to a full bathroom to shower in. But I did neither. That would have meant that I was giving in. That would have meant that they won. And I can’t have that.

If I’m still wearing the clothes from the night Arlo captured me, then it means I still believe that I’m going to escape.

But, as I lie on the stone floor, already feeling a bit broken and trapped, I realize I should have changed. I should have eaten sooner. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so weak.

“You shouldn’t run.”

I turn and look at the woman standing over me—Gia. I was hoping to get a second alone with her. She will free me. She isn’t heartless like everyone else.

“I wasn’t running,” I say, starting to slowly stand up. My body is too weak and sore to move very quickly.

Gia extends her hand to me, and I take it. She tightens her grip.

“You won’t escape. Not on your own.”

I smile. “But you’ll help me. You know what your family is doing is wrong.”

I see the change in her eyes, and it scares me.

“No. I won’t help you. My brother won’t help you. My father sure as hell won’t help you. So, stop thinking that you are going to survive this. You aren’t. The sooner your life ends, the sooner I get my family back. You put my family through hell, so you deserve what is coming to you, bitch.”

She lets go of my hand, and I fall back to the ground. Gia walks away, leaving me on the ground. I felt every ounce of emotion dripping off of every word that Gia said. She’s hurt. She’s in pain. A pain that I don’t have to imagine because I live with the same pain every day. And, for some reason, she thinks that I hurt her.

I thought Gia would be my savior. I thought she had a heart, but her heart is too broken to help me.

She’s grown up a lot in the past seven years. She’s no longer a sweet teenager. She’s a woman scorned, and I’d do my best to steer clear of her, just like her father. It hurts that not even Gia cares about me. The maids don’t care about me. It’s clear that Arlo doesn’t care about me. And, whatever Matteo feels about me, he’s just going to try to butter me up, so he can get in my pants. I’m all alone in saving myself from this madness.

I look up at the sun beating down on me. I’ll just spend my day here, soaking up the sun. It’s not really freedom, but it will give me the illusion of freedom, unlike the tower that I’ve spent the last few days trapped in.

I close my eyes, trying to think of someplace nice to take me away from here. I dream of Heath and me on a far-off beach somewhere on our honeymoon. I pretend that, instead of here, I’m lying in his arms.

* * *

“I love you, Nina. I’ll love you forever,” Heath whispers into my hair.

I laugh. “You don’t have to spend our entire honeymoon telling me that. I know you love me. That’s what the wedding was about.”

“But I want to. I need to tell you every single day for forever so that you don’t forget it.”

“I’ll never forget it,” I say, kissing his soft lips. “Now, go get me a drink. I’m thirsty.”

He smiles and rolls off the lounger we have been lying on together while I spread out.

“What do you want, gorgeous?”

I scrunch my nose like I’m thinking real hard. “Anything that comes with one of those umbrella things.”

He chuckles. “Everything comes with those here.”

I smile. “Exactly. As long as it’s fruity and it has alcohol in it, then I’m happy.”

Heath nods and leaves to get me a drink while I nap in the warm sun.

“What are you dreaming about?” he asks when he returns.

“You.” I grin. “Your muscles wrapped around me, your cock pushing against my belly, my hands tangled in your dark hair—”

* * *

“Dark hair, huh? I thought your husband was a blond.”

My eyes shoot open, and I see Matteo standing over me with a sexy grin on his face. It’s the same one I’ve seen from Arlo—except, unlike Arlo, Matteo smiles much more freely. Arlo spends most of his day with an intense brooding and a serious expression on his face. Matteo, on the other hand, lives life more freely. Like, if today were his last day, he would live it being happy.

I quickly sit up. “My husband is a blond.”

Matteo raises an eyebrow. “Then, whom were you dreaming about if it wasn’t your dear husband? It couldn’t have been a sexy Italian, could it?”

I frown. Matteo’s right. I was dreaming about a sexy Italian at the end. I was dreaming of Arlo.

Even though he was the one to bring me into this nightmare, my subconscious is still obsessed with him. I might be able to control my thoughts during the day. I might be able to stop thinking about him. But the sex I had with Arlo is too much for my body to stop obsessing about. It is still the best sex I’ve ever had. And I don’t know how to stop it from happening again. Whatever happens here, I won’t hurt Heath. I won’t willingly fuck any of these men. I will fight until I kill them rather than let them fuck me.

“What do you want, Matteo?” I ask instead of answering his question.

He chuckles as he runs his hand through his long Italian hair. “If you don’t answer me, I’m just going to assume you were having a dirty dream about me.”

“Assume all you want; it doesn’t make it true.”

“It doesn’t make it not true either.”

I frown, not giving in. It won’t help to tell Matteo the truth or to lie to him. He won’t be happy that I was dreaming about his brother and not him. And I’m not a good enough liar to convince him that I was dreaming about him.

Matteo seems to let it go though. “I came for you.”

I take a deep breath, trying not to add fear to his words. It was an innocent statement. He didn’t say he was going to rape me or beat me. Just that he came for me.

“I’m a little busy at the moment,” I say, closing my eyes again.

Matteo’s heart might not be completely pure, but so far, he’s always given me a choice. He hasn’t forced me to do anything. He’s the only hope I have left that he might eventually help me.

“Well, you are going to have to change your plans. Because I need you. Now.”

The way he says I need you makes me ache deep in my belly. It’s only been a couple of days since I’ve had sex, but being surrounded by sexy Italians is going to turn me into a sex-craving lunatic even if they are keeping me here against my will. It still doesn’t change the fact that, when they speak, I lose my mind.

“No, you need to change your plans.”

“You don’t get a say in this, beautiful. Your choices are, you come with me freely, or I’ll carry you. Now, which will it be? Because I really would like to get my hands on you again.”

My eyes shoot open. I don’t like Matteo’s choices game that he plays with me. It’s never really a choice. Just like choosing to become this family’s slave or dying wasn’t really a choice either.

“I’ll walk,” I say as I slowly get up.

Matteo respects my wishes and keeps his hands off me.

As soon as I’m standing, I run.

This time, instead of running away from the house, I run toward it. Matteo said that, as long as I was in my bedroom, I wouldn’t be touched. If Matteo is going to give me some choice between him forcefully fucking me in the ass or me willingly sucking his dick, he’s got another thing coming. I will do no such thing. I just have to make it up to the bedroom. And then I’ll spend the rest of my time hiding out there and sneaking out in the middle of the night for food.

Unless Matteo was lying.

But it’s the best shot I have.

So, I run full force into the mansion and down hallways until I get to the staircase that leads up to my room. I don’t hear Matteo running after me anymore. He should have been able to catch me in my heels. But he either has given up or he knows that he is going to come into my room even if it breaks the “rules.”

But I keep running up the stairs. I keep running down the long, dark hallway until I’m feet from the door.

When I see Enrico, I try to stop. But I’m not prepared to stop. I run straight into him.

I try to turn and run the other way, but his hands grab my shoulders.

“Let me go!” I scream, trying to get out of his arms.

He’s old and out of shape, and I know I can overtake him.

He shakes his head. “You should be black and blue by now. You should be broken and curled up into a ball in your room. But you’re not.”

I grin. “Because I’m stronger than you think. And I’m not some plaything that you can beat when you want.”

Enrico smiles. “No. You’re not strong. You’re weak. Just like my sons. They think that playing some game with your head first is how they are going to win this fight. But you aren’t like the rest. You’re a fighter; I’ll give you that. Feisty. You won’t give up anything easily. That is why you need to be broken.”

I stop fighting for just a second as I try to understand his words. “What do you mean?”

“It means that I’m going to be the one who breaks you. My sons need to learn a lesson. I’m going to beat you until you can’t move, slave. I’m going to fuck you until all you can think about is my cock. I’m going to break you. And, when I’m done, my sons will have their turns.”

The panic quickly turns into survival.

I knee him hard in the crotch, and he immediately releases me, not able to deal with the pain.

“You won’t fucking touch me. I’m not your slave!” I scream at him as I run back down the stairs.

I had it right the first time. I need to get the fuck away from these deranged people.

I make it three steps down when I see two men walking up the stairs with the intent to grab me. I know from how they are dressed in dark clothes that they are Enrico’s men.

The adrenaline takes over, and I run full force at them. I punch the first man as hard as I can in the nose, getting just a glimpse of the blood that pours out of him, before I get to the second man. I kick him as hard as I can in the crotch, but he grabs my leg before I make contact.

I fall onto the stairs, hitting my head against the wrought iron railing before I land on the ground. I don’t have to see the blood to know that my head is fucked up. I want to keep fighting. I don’t want them to take me so easily, but the world starts spinning. My head feels like it’s about to explode from the pressure and pain.

I spent seven years preparing. Trying my best to take every self-defense class I could. I learned how to use a gun. I learned how to control my obsessions.

But nothing was ever going to be enough. I’m still going to get raped. Beaten. I’m still going to be a slave. Because I’m not strong enough to save myself from any of it.