Chapter 2 DON

My heart instantly sinks and I immediately scramble to sit up.

"Y-you kidnapped me...it's...it's against the law." I sputter out. I'm realizing now that this voice might belong to the infamous leader of the Black Silver Cartel.

No one really knew his name...or how he looked.

But everyone knew how rash he could get.

And now I'm here- somehow in the clutches of this monster.

He laughs, low and mocking. "Then your father should be behind bars then. Or better still, he should be dead."

My stomach twists into a knot and I bite my lips.

"He...he can pay. Please sir, give us time..."

I don't know what to do in this situation, so I bow my head and beg. Locks if golden hair fall and frame my vision.

In this dim room, I hear the crisp sound of dress shoes.

It's night outside.

"Yes, girl. That's why I will hold on to you. Like a kind of...collateral."

I lift my head and I see him.

I'm not sure what I expected this man to look like; but it's certainly not this.

Just like his name, grey-silver eyes look down on me. His dark hair, slightly close to his shoulders, is tousled.

He's in a suit that clings to his lithe frame. A glass of brandy is in his hand. He lifts it, takes a sip and smiles.

A dangerously beautiful man. Even his smile is threatening - not out of actual happiness but madness.

Like he's found a new shiny toy to play with.

Oh dad...what have you done?

"C-collateral?" I ask, feeling a cold sweat cover my back.

The man tilts his head and uses his left hand to touch my hair. I immediately flinch.

"Yes. A collateral. This will guarantee your father returns every single penny he owes me. I will give him three months to sort it out, until then- you are mine."

He lets go of my hair and grabs my chin.

"You'll do just fine." He whispers. There are no emotions in those grey eyes of his.

Only emptiness.

"And when the deadline is up?" I ask, feeling extremely faint.

"Then you'll be killed."

My kidnapper says this as though he's commenting on the weather, even going ahead to take another sip of his drink.

My heart skips two beats. Before I can let that information sink in, he takes a document that was sitting atvl the foot of the bed and tosses it into my lap.

"In that document, everything concerning our agreement is written clearly. Your father will pay back what he owes in three months and for the period you stay here, you will be my mistress."

His last sentence completely cuts off my breathing. I sharply look up from the papers at him.

"W-w-what?" Tears are gathering in my eyes. "I can't do that! I...won't do that!"

The reality of my situation is dawning on me. Somehow, father and I went from celebrating a dream house in Milan to crying hot tears in a kidnapper's custody about to be his mistress.

"I will not do this! You can keep me as a collateral or whatever but I will not give you my body! I am not a slave..."

The man in front of me smirks, keeps his glass down on the bedside table and then smirks.

He loosens his tie and takes off his suit jacket making the muscles underneath flex.

"So you'd rather be tied up in the basement as a normal hostage than open your legs?"

I'm so appalled by the question that no words come out if my mouth.

As I find what to tell him, my kidnapper begins to unbuckle his belt. Fear starts to kick in.

"I'd rather be locked up," I tell him firmly, hoping he would grant me what I have said and leave me alone.

"Don't bother, you are not my type. Besides, I wouldn't force a girl. Most times," he leans in so close I feel his breath mingling with mine. "Most times, they end up begging me to fuck them."

I gasp subtly and he chuckles before turning serious. "I have no use for your body, Gracie Millers. Read the agreement. You are just for publicity. Nothing more. Once your father pays, you're free to go. If he doesn't, you die. It's quite a straight forward agreement, no?"

He takes his suit jacket and belt in his hands befor making for the door.

"Please let me go sir," I beg again in the most pleading voice I can muster.

He doesn't reply to that immediately but pauses. Without looking back, he says. "And be careful girl, so you don't get yourself killed before the deadline is up. I'd hate to do that to you."

And with those words, he leaves me in this dark, cold room, crying and wondering how my life has turned a mess.

The contract sits on my lap, hot to touch and very much horrifying.

I adjust the light by the bedside so it's brighter.

The agreement is long, spanning for over ten pages.

With tears, I turn then, reading every single detail. No intimacy, no wandering about the house, must follow orders, must act like a couple in public events.

So many rules that make me want to breakdown.

I finally lose my mind when I get to a certain clause.

"And if in the event, participant A is unable to fulfil the desired agreement- which in this case refers to the reparation of the sum owed by said participant- participant B will be undoubtedly be taken care of. As this is a legal document, the details of this will be kept minimal. Drafted by Bayers and Smith for Raymond Silver."

Raymond Silver. The faceless and nameless leader of the Black Silver Cartel.

A man who was rumored to be so dangerous that even the top gangs in London had to keep their distance.

My tears drop to the page as I struggle to breathe.

The reality hits me hard and square. I've been kidnapped.

Not just by any random.

But by the infamous Black Silver Mafia Don.

I decide then. I have to run.