The room felt alive with tension, suffocating Lena as she sat crumpled against the wall. Her leg throbbed relentlessly, each pulse a cruel reminder of her earlier fall. The fire spreading through her twisted ankle was unlike anything she had felt before, but she bit the inside of her cheek, desperate to suppress a scream. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her break.
The door creaked open, and Lena froze. The man who stepped inside wasn't Damien, but she recognized him instantly. He was the one who had offered her the graveyard cleaning job just days ago. Back then, his polished appearance and calm demeanor had seemed out of place, but harmless. Now, standing side by side with Damien, the resemblance between the two was unmistakable—sharp features, cold intensity, and an air of control that made her skin crawl.
His tailored coat swayed as he moved, the soft click of the lock sealing her fate. Her heart pounded in her chest. She knew she was trapped, but she couldn't stop herself from scanning the room for an escape route, even as her body screamed in protest.
He ignored her completely, his dark eyes settling on Damien. "You're still at it?" he asked, his tone calm, almost conversational. "We're expected early tomorrow."
Lena's stomach twisted at the cryptic statement. Expected where? And for what?
Damien leaned casually against the edge of the table, his golden eyes lighting up with amusement. "She came looking for me," he said with a smirk, his voice laced with mockery.
Lena's fingers tightened against her skirt, the fabric bunching in her fists. He was enjoying this—her pain, her terror.
"I didn't," she snapped, her voice trembling despite her effort to sound defiant. "You psychotic asshole. I just wanted to go home."
Damien's smirk widened into something darker, crueler. He pushed off the table, his boots clicking against the marble floor as he closed the distance between them. "Home?" he drawled, tilting his head as though the very idea was amusing. "You still think you have a home?"
Her lips parted, but no words came out. The weight of his presence was suffocating, and his golden eyes bore into hers with an intensity that made her want to shrink away.
"You don't have a home anymore," Damien continued, his voice dropping to a low, taunting whisper. "Not here. Not anywhere. You belong to us now, little girl. And let me make one thing very clear—human rights don't apply to you anymore."
Lena's blood boiled, anger bubbling up to drown out her fear. "Forgive me," she bit out, her voice sharp with sarcasm, "for assuming I still had basic human decency."
Damien chuckled, a dark, humorless sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "Decency?" he echoed, crouching down so they were eye level. "Oh, you poor thing. You'll find I have no use for such trivialities."
Her breath hitched as his hand reached out, his fingers brushing against her chin. She slapped it away instinctively, her defiance making his eyes narrow.
"You're really something, aren't you?" he murmured, his tone almost admiring but laced with venom. "That fire of yours—it'll be such a shame to extinguish it."
Before she could respond, Damien's brother intervened. He stepped forward and placed a firm hand on Damien's shoulder. "That's enough," he said evenly, his voice carrying a weight that made even Damien pause.
For a moment, Damien's golden eyes flicked to his brother, irritation flashing across his face. "Why? She's just getting started."
"She's injured," his brother replied, his gaze briefly dropping to Lena's bleeding hand and swollen ankle. "If you want her alive tomorrow, let her rest." He leaned in close, murmuring something in Damien's ear that Lena couldn't catch.
Damien's expression hardened, his jaw tightening as he glared at his brother. Then, as though it had been his decision all along, he stood and turned on his heel. His golden eyes met Lena's one last time, burning with unspoken promises that made her stomach churn.
"Sweet dreams, Lena," he said mockingly, his voice dripping with malice.
The door slammed shut behind him, and she finally exhaled, her breath shaky as relief washed over her.
The other man lingered for a moment, his dark eyes assessing her with an unreadable expression. "Get some rest," he said finally, his voice devoid of emotion. "You'll need it."