Chapter 5 HELLFIRE

CHAPTER FIVE

HELLFIRE

"Please... I'm not her."

The words barely made it out of Fortune's cracked lips. Her voice trembled...soft, broken, desperate.

But the ropes only bit tighter.

And the man before her, the one with dead, expressionless eyes didn't flinch. He tugged the last knot around her ankles as if he were tying up an animal meant for slaughter.

Fortune blinked slowly, disoriented. Her vision blurred with smoke and heat. Her back ached, her arms numb from being bound behind her for so long. But it wasn't the pain that terrified her.

It was the fire.

She lifted her heavy head and looked around.

She was inside a massive cage, steel, and cruelly built. The bars were high, bolted to a cracked stone floor like it belonged in a medieval dungeon. The air was suffocating. Heat pressed against her skin like angry palms. Her heartbeat pounded louder than her thoughts.

Beside the cage was a wide pit blazed with hellfire.

The flames were wild, licking up toward the ceiling like they wanted to devour everything. The heat was unbearable. It soaked her skin with sweat and filled her lungs with dread. She whimpered softly, dragging herself backward, as far from the blaze as her restraints allowed.

Zeke Zee Armani stood just beyond the cage, calm, composed, terrifying. The fire painted him in shades of gold and crimson, casting long shadows behind him. His black shirt clung to his powerful frame, sleeves rolled, revealing tattooed forearms. He looked like a fallen angel carved from wrath and ice.

Fortune tried again, her voice cracking, "I'm not Emily Carter..."

But she trailed off mid sentence.

Because he wasn't listening.

He never did.

Zeke stepped closer to the bars and crouched, tilting his head like he was examining a specimen in a jar. There was no empathy in his eyes. No mercy.

"I don't care," he said simply. "Whether you are Emily Carter or her twin, her ghost, or her shadow, it makes no difference to me."

Fortune swallowed hard. Her heart thundered in her chest.

Zeke's voice was calm, low, yet razor sharp.

"Your father owes me and in the book of Zeke Zee Armani, he who owes Zeke..." He smirked darkly. "Must pay."

Her lips parted to argue again, but the words didn't come out. She realized that he wasn't interested in the truth or anything she was going to say. He was only interested in her money."

He stood up slowly, brushing nonexistent dust from his hands, then turned his gaze to the blazing fire beside the cage.

"You see that pit?" he asked, pointing lazily. "That is where you'll end up if the debt isn't settled."

Fortune's blood ran cold.

Zeke's voice remained calm, almost bored. "Twenty four hours. If my money doesn't arrive, you'll be ash by morning."

Then, with no further words, no threat, no glance of pity, he walked out. The heavy steel door closed behind him with a brutal clang.

She was alone again.

Alone with the fire.

Fortune sat frozen in the cage, her skin burning with heat, her limbs aching. The smoke scratched her throat with every breath. Her dress was soaked with sweat, the once luxurious fabric was now stained and ruined. Her hands twisted behind her, raw from the ropes.

This couldn't be happening.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

She had only wanted to confront Emily. She had only come to the suite to settle a score. She hadn't planned to wear her face, it just happened. She hadn't meant to fall into this deadly trap.

But now she was here and no one was coming to save her.

Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to cry. Not in front of the fire that waited for her to scream.

Instead, she leaned back against the bars, forcing her breath into slow, shallow pulls. She needed to think. To survive, to save herself.

Zeke wasn't bluffing. His voice hadn't wavered once. His threat wasn't a show.

If he didn't get paid, he would burn her alive.

Time passed in agonizing silence. Only the crackling of the fire filled the dark chamber. Every now and then, footsteps echoed in the corridor beyond, but no one came in.

Fortune drifted in and out of wakefulness, the pain in her joints keeping her from full rest. Her skin blistered from the heat. Her lips were dry. Her stomach cramped from hunger.

Then at some unknown hour the door creaked again.

Zeke returned.

He walked in like a man taking a stroll through his garden. Calm, elegant, dangerous. A crystal glass of liquor hung in his hand. His dark eyes met hers, and the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

"You're still alive," he said.

"Disappointed?" she rasped.

"Hmmm, you are stronger than I thought. Impressive."

He walked to the edge of the cage, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "You've stopped begging."

Fortune lifted her chin. "How much does he owe you?"

Zeke's smile was cold and proud. "You want to pay instead?"

She shifted slightly. "How much is the God damn money?!"

"A billion in cash and gold," he replied softly. "How do you want to pay? Bank transfer or cash?"

She stared at him, firelight dancing across her bruised face. Her voice cracked when she spoke next. "You are not powerful if that's what you think you are."

Zeke's eyes narrowed, his voice dropping low. "This is power. To hold someone's life between your fingers. To decide if they burn or breathe. That is real power."

Her body trembled from exhaustion, but she didn't lower her gaze. "Then use that power wisely."

He arched a brow. "Are you giving me advice?"

"Let me go and I will get my father give you the money."

Zeke scoffed. "He will never pay it willingly. But with you here now, he will."

"And if he doesn't?" she whispered. "My ash can never be gold or money."

He was quiet.

Then he took a slow step back, eyes scanning her face like he was seeing her differently for the first time.

"You're trying to fuck with me?" he asked.

"I don't fuck with niggas that can't fuck twice a night," she replied. "Lazy..."

Zeke was silent for a long moment. The fire flickered between them.

Then, with a quiet scoff, he turned to leave.

"Sleep well," he said, his voice unreadable. "I ain't fucking no bitch that owes me."

"Will you let me out?" she called.

Zeke paused.

"When I know you're not wasting my time," he replied, then disappeared through the door again. "When your father pays me."

The lock clicked shut.