Chapter 2 Two

{Elena's pov}

The car ride was silent. I sat stiffly, wrists sore from chains. Leather and dark, powerful cologne-scented the air. Nico Moretti sat beside me, unreadable, his presence suffocating.

I should have been frantic, demanding answers, but my mind struggled to process the shocking truth: I'd been sold. Now I belonged to him. A chill ran down my spine.

I snuck a glance at him. He gazed out the window, fingers resting on his thigh, calm and detached. His demeanor made it clear this was nothing to him. Just another business transaction.

But why?

Why spend fifteen million dollars on me?

My stomach twisted. Was it because of Dante? Because of some rivalry between them? The way they had fought over me back there... the violence, the tension-it was personal.

I clenched my fists. I didn't want to be a pawn in whatever game they were playing.

The car pulled to a stop.

The car opened, and cool night air swept in, revealing a sprawling estate surrounded by high gates and armed guards.

A prison dressed as luxury.

Nico stepped out first, then turned back to me. His blue eyes met mine, a silent command.

I didn't move.

His jaw ticked. Then, with smooth, controlled movements, he leaned down, grasped my waists, and pulled me forward. I stumbled, briefly colliding with him, before regaining my balance. His grip was firm but not cruel. Just a reminder-he was in control here.

I wanted to rip my hand away. To fight. To scream.

But I did none of those things.

Because I needed to survive.

He led me inside, the grand doors opening into a lavish entrance hall. The marble floors shone under a soft light, and the air was scented with expensive wood and a hint of something cold and detached.

A home without warmth.

Footsteps approached. A suited man stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Mr Moretti," he said. His gaze flicked to me, then back to Nico. "Shall I prepare a room for her?"

Nico didn't answer right away. His grip on my wrist loosened, and then he finally released me. "She'll stay in the east wing. Make sure it's secure."

Secure.

I swallowed. He meant locked.

The man nodded and gestured for me to follow. I didn't move, instead, I turned to Nico, my voice sharper than I intended.

"What do you want from me?"

He didn't react, didn't even blink. "Go to your room Elena."

"I'm not your prisoner." A faint, humorless smile played on his lips. "Aren't you?"

His words slammed me like a stab.

I hated him. Hated the way he looked at me like I was something he had already claimed.

But hate wouldn't save me. I turned and followed the man down the hallway. One thought echoed in my mind. The room was stunning: high ceilings, rich wood furniture, and a king-sized bed of silk sheets. It resembled a magazine spread- elegant, expensive, and soulless.

But the real detail wasn't in the decor. It was in security. The moment the door closed behind me, I heard the faint click of a lock. A test twist of the handle confirmed it. I was trapped.

I clenched my fists, forcing down the panic threatening to rise. Think, Elena.

I turned slowly, taking in every detail. The windows were large, but a glance outside showed an unsettling drop. Three stories high. Even if I broke the glass, I wouldn't survive the fall.

I scanned the room, searching for anything-a weapon, a weakness, a way out.

Nothing.

They had thought of everything.

I sat on the bed, the silk sheets cool against my skin, but I felt numb. My mind was racing trying to process everything.

Nico Moretti.

I barely knew him, yet his name sent a shiver through me. The way he looked at me, the way the entire room had feared him.

What did he want?

Why had he bought me?

I wrapped my arms around my knees, holding them tightly. The auction replayed in my mind: the chains, the mocking laughter, and the men bidding on me like I was a possession.

I squeezed my eyes shut. There had to be a reason. A way out and then, another thought struck me.

Dante Romano.

He had fought for me too. But not the way Nico had.

Dante had enjoyed it, the game, the challenge. He hadn't cared about me-only about winning. The way he had smirked, and taunted Nico, it was all just another power play.

But Nico...

I shivered at the memory of his gaze, dark and unreadable. Unlike Dante, he hadn't played. He had simply claimed.

And now I was here, locked away like a possession. My nails dug into my palms. No. I am not a possession.

A knock at the door broke my thoughts. A woman dressed in black entered, carrying a tray of food.

"You should eat," she said, her voice empty. I didn't move.

"Who are you?" She ignored me and turned to leave, but I blocked her path.

"Wait," She hesitated, glancing at the door. "Do you know why I'm here?" I asked.

A pause. Then, a quiet reply.

"I know you belong to Nico Moretti now."

The words sent a cold chill down my spine.

Belong.

Like I was nothing more than an object, something that could be bought, owned, or controlled.

Anger gushed inside me, shrinking my throat. But I compelled myself to stay calm. If I wanted answers, I couldn't lose control.

"What does he want from me?" I pressed.

The woman hung back again, then shook her head. "That's not for me to say."

I exhaled slowly, stepping aside. She slipped past me, disappearing through the door, locking it behind her.

I stared at the tray of food, my stomach twisting. I wasn't stupid. I needed my strength. If I were going to fight, I couldn't afford to be weak.

So, I sat down and picked up the fork, but as I brought the first bite to my lips, a single thought echoed in my mind.

I won't be his prisoner.

Not for long.