Chapter 3 Freedom Is a Trap

Three years, four months, and seventeen days.

That's how long it took to turn Rosafina Stones from heiress to prisoner to... this.

She stared at the prison gate, the iron bars opening like the mouth of a beast ready to spit her out. The world beyond was unfamiliar, cold, wide. She stood in her worn gray uniform, holding a plastic bag with her few belongings-none of which mattered anymore.

Freedom, they called it. But it didn't feel like freedom.

It felt like another trick.

A female guard handed her a final piece of paper. "Sign here. You're officially done."

Rosafina signed with a hand that didn't tremble. She'd long since learned to mask her emotions.

A voice called behind her.

"Hey, Stones."

Rosafina turned. Mia stood at the end of the corridor, arms crossed, her sharp features softened by something rare-emotion.

"You're really getting out," Mia said. "Damn."

"I guess so." Rosafina stepped closer, a strange ache forming in her chest. "I never thought the day would come."

Mia glanced down, then up again. "Don't forget who taught you how to make prison soup and where to hide a blade in your bra."

Rosafina smiled faintly. "I won't forget anything, Mia."

There was a pause.

Then Mia stepped forward and hugged her-tight and quick, like ripping off a bandage. "Don't let them chew you up again, Rosafina. You're sharper now. Make them bleed."

Rosafina swallowed hard. "I will."

And with that, she stepped out into the world that had already forgotten her.

The sky above was an alien shade of blue. The sun felt too bright. The streets too loud. She didn't even have a phone.

A sympathetic cab driver agreed to take her into the city. The address she gave him was once the crown jewel of the Stones family empire.

Her home.

But when the car pulled into the familiar estate, she blinked in disbelief.

Gone.

The elegant white mansion was no longer pristine. The golden gate was replaced by black iron bars. A different car was parked in the driveway. Someone else lived there now.

She got out of the cab anyway.

The new guards at the gate didn't recognize her. "This is private property. Step back, miss."

"This is my home," she said, her voice level.

The guard stared at her, then barked a laugh. "Sure it is. And I'm the King of Spain."

She pushed forward anyway. "I want to see Zelda Stones."

The other guard lifted a phone to his ear. Moments later, the gate opened slightly and a woman in a crimson robe strolled out.

Zelda.

Untouched by time. Her hair was a perfect honey-blonde. Her lips red as wine. Her eyes cruel.

"Well, well," Zelda said, tilting her head. "Back from the dungeon, are we?"

"Where's my father?" Rosafina asked without preamble.

Zelda smiled. "Dead. Heart attack. Shortly after you were convicted. Poor dear couldn't handle the shame."

The words hit her like bullets.

"No funeral invitation for the criminal daughter," Zelda added with a mock pout. "Shame, really."

"And the house?" Rosafina asked, chest tightening.

"Sold. Your father's assets were used to cover your debts. The rest was seized." She stepped closer, voice lowering. "You're nothing now, Rosafina. Just another failure in an orange jumpsuit."

Rosafina's hands curled into fists.

"I suggest you leave before I have you arrested for trespassing," Zelda said sweetly, then turned on her heel and walked away.

The gates slammed shut behind her.

Nowhere Left

She wandered the city for hours.

No home. No family. No money.

And no idea why she was released early.

She sat on a bench, the world buzzing around her. In prison, the walls had been suffocating. Out here, the openness was overwhelming.

"Rosafina Stones?"

The voice made her jump.

A man in a black suit stood in front of her. Late fifties, with a face like stone and eyes that didn't blink.

"I'm Elias Black. Your new legal representative."

"I didn't hire a lawyer."

"You didn't have to. You were assigned one-by contract."

"What contract?"

He opened a leather folder, pulling out a set of documents and a gold pen. "Your father entered into an agreement shortly before his death. In exchange for your release and the cancellation of remaining fines, he traded something... of value."

Rosafina stared at the papers. Her name was there. So was her father's.

"What did he trade?" she asked slowly.

The man looked her dead in the eye. "You."

Rosafina blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You've been transferred into a binding agreement. You are now the legal ward-and soon-to-be wife-of a high-ranking associate in the GALADONORS family."

She staggered to her feet. "That's the mafia."

He nodded. "Yes."

"No. No. This is insane. My father would never-"

"He was desperate," Elias replied. "You were rotting in prison. He had nothing left. He did what he could."

She shook her head. "I didn't agree to this."

"Your father did. And as a condition of your release, you are required to fulfill the contract. Or..." he leaned forward slightly, "we send you back."

Rosafina's breath caught.

Back. To the cell. To the concrete. To the darkness.

"No," she whispered.

Elias held out the pen. "There's a car waiting. You'll be taken to your new residence where you will meet your future husband."

Rosafina didn't move.

Elias smiled faintly. "You survived prison. You'll survive this too. Maybe."

"Give me a name,I mean my soon to be husband must have a name, right?" She asked and he nodded.

"That's correct,Dante GALADONORS, that's his name." It rang a bell immediately, the ruthless Mafia guy? But why would her father choose to give her out to that man? It puzzled her.

That night, she sat in the back of a black SUV, staring at the lights of the city as they blurred past.

She remembered Mia's words.

Don't let them chew you up again.

She wouldn't.

Not this time.

If the world wanted her to be dangerous... she'd be lethal.