The days dragged on, each one blending into the next in an unending loop of silence and isolation. The weight of the room pressed on Ivy felt heavy in its stillness as she traced invisible patterns on the frosty glass of the window. The city outside was alive with movement, but time stood painfully still here. Every morning was the same—she'd stand there, fighting the ache in her chest, her mind weaving through memories and regrets like tangled wires sparking in a dark, broken machine.
Her heart felt both restless and weary, a constant battle between the urge to break free and the numbness that came from losing her purpose. Mikhail, who brought her meals with an expression laced with both concern and distance, was her only contact. His voice was firm yet held a tinge of gentleness, force her to eat, to give in, to stop resisting. It was a cycle—he would speak, she would remain silent, and he would eventually walk out, taking her untouched tray with a fleeting glance that carried unsaid words.
The metallic clank of the lock sliding into place when he left was a sound that always sent a chill down her spine. It reminded her she was trapped; the walls around her were a fortress she couldn't break. Yet, in the hollowness of that space, she could hear her pulse thudding, a reminder that she was still alive. And that made the ache sharper, a reminder that survival was not enough.
Evenings were worse. They were darker, quieter, and filled with a tense silence broken only by the footsteps that signaled Luka's approach. He'd step inside, his expression unreadable, dark eyes scanning her as if trying to piece together the fragments of a mystery. He would speak, urging her with carefully chosen words, his tone a mix of command and hidden empathy. But Ivy would turn her gaze away, finding solace in staring at the shadowed outlines of the trees just beyond the balcony. Luka's presence was commanding; the room seemed colder with him there, yet it was the moments after he left, the tray hitting the table with a muted thud, that felt the loneliest.
Sometimes, in the late hours of the night, a pang of doubt would coil within her, squeezing tight enough to steal her breath. Was she wrong to hold her ground? Was her silence a weapon she wielded at the cost of her freedom? The realization hit like a storm—how foolish it was to think she'd chosen any of this. She didn't ask for captivity or the iron grip of a man like Dom to claim her existence. Her wishes were always simple: freedom, truth, Ethan, and her family. But in this world, simplicity was a fleeting luxury.
As Luka dropped the tray onto the table, the sound cut through the room, a sharp reminder of the bars that held her life. Ivy's eyes were fixed on the trees outside, their branches swaying gently as the wind whispered through them. The city lights beyond blinked like distant stars, mocking her with their unattainable freedom. She let out a breath, steadying the gnawing feeling in her chest.
"I know you're listening, Zero," Luka said, his voice steady but laced with tension. He didn't bother masking the concern in his eyes. "Dom's patience is running thin, and we both know that isn't good for either of us."
The sound of her hacker name being spoken aloud was like an electric jolt, breaking through her wall of silence. Still, she refused to turn to face him, her fingers tightening against the cool windowpane.
"Don't play this game with him, Ivy. He won't lose." Luka's voice softened at the edges, a rare glimpse of the man who'd once been trusted with Dom's safety. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken truths. Ivy's jaw clenched, her heart hammering out a sound that seemed to echo in the confined space.
The mention of Dom's name filled the room with an invisible air, as though the very air recognized the power it carried. Dom, with his cold gaze and commanding presence, the man who claimed her with every unspoken word, was never far from her thoughts. She wondered, in fleeting moments like this, if he knew that she was as much bound to him by choice as by his relentless will.
"Why are you telling me this, Luka?" Her voice came out quieter than she intended, fragile like the light filtering through the dim room. For a moment, his expression changed, something close to empathy crossing his features before he masked it with stoicism.
"Because when he walks through that door, I won't be here to soften the blow."
Her eyes finally met his, and she read the warning there, the thinly veiled hint of the storm to come.
Luka's phone glowed ominously as he pulled it from his pocket, the stern expression deepening on his face. "He's here," he said, the words carrying an unspoken warning.
Ivy's breath caught in her chest, a chill running down her spine like a shard of ice pressing against her skin. The room around her felt smaller, as though the walls were closing in with the weight of Dom's arrival. Every instinct screamed at her to keep her composure, to guard the tangled mess of fear and defiance that he seemed to unravel with a single look.
Dom's presence was an unavoidable force, a storm that swept through her life with ruthless precision. She remembered the first time she saw that dark intensity in his eyes, the way he could freeze the world around him with just his gaze. And now, that same energy was moments away from breaking through the door.
"Stay still," Luka said, his voice low and almost hesitant, as though he knew the tightrope she was walking. He stepped back, his figure tense but resigned.
The sound of approaching footsteps made her heart pound harder, each step echoing with an undeniable promise.
An alert vibrated in Luka's pocket, his expression hardening as he checked the screen. His eyes snapped back to Ivy, the sharpness in his gaze making her breath hitch. She already knew what this meant.
"He wants to see you," Luka said, his voice devoid of warmth. Ivy's stomach twisted with an icy dread. The name that haunted her nightmares was so close, and the realization clawed at her composure. She instinctively shifted, trying to put distance between them as if that would make any difference.
"Zero, please. He won't hurt you," Luka's voice softened just a fraction, a rare moment of humanity breaking through.
"Don't lie to me. You know what he's capable of," Ivy countered, her voice trembling despite her effort to mask it with defiance. Memories of the ruthless, calculating man resurfaced—the videos, the whispers among powerful circles. Dom was nothing short of a storm, merciless and ruthless. And now he was here.
"I have to take you to him. Just don't make this harder," Luka's brows furrowed with something between guilt and resignation. "I promised he won't hurt you, and I've never broken my word."
Silence fell between them, heavy and suffocating. There was nothing left to say. The space that once felt like a sanctuary now felt like a cage. The reality was that Dom's presence loomed too close, and there was no waking from this living nightmare.
"Come with me," Luka ordered, his tone steely. Ivy's pulse quickened as she took a shaky step forward. His hand grasped her arm, firm and unyielding. He led her out, unlocking the door that had offered her a fragile illusion of safety.
It was the first time Ivy had stepped beyond the confines of the room Dom had kept her in. The mansion was vast and big, its luxury wrapped in a veil of shadow, the walls painted in deep, somber hues that seemed to swallow the light. Each step she took was deliberate, her eyes flickering around, taking in every detail. The chandeliers, ornate but darkened, dangled overhead like silent witnesses. Despite the heavy air, there was an undeniable elegance that hinted at Dom's refined, if not intimidating, taste.
Luka guided her down a long corridor. Ivy's heartbeat drummed in her chest as she caught glimpses of guards patrolling, their expressions hardened, their postures exuding an unspoken threat. Her gaze fell instinctively to the floor as she passed, every instinct urging her not to draw unwanted attention. The scent of polished wood and the faint traces of Dom's cologne settled over her, prickling her nerves with the reminder of whose space this was.
They halted in front of the massive double doors at the end of the hallway. Luka's expression shifted, a flicker of reluctance crossing his face before he pushed the doors open. The tension Ivy had tried to push down bubbled back up, tightening her throat. Inside, Dom sat, a picture of power, lounging in a chair with one arm casually draped over the backrest. The room, bathed in dim light, framed his sharp features, emphasizing the cold determination in his eyes.
A glass of amber liquor rested at his lips, and he took a slow sip before setting it down on the table beside him. The sound of glass against wood echoed in the silence. His focus locked onto Ivy, unwavering, intense, and unreadable.
The room felt smaller as Dom's gaze raked over her.
"I only need to speak with her. You are excused, Luka," Dom's deep voice cut through the silence. Ivy felt her pulse quicken as Luka glanced at her, his jaw clenched with worry. He knew Dom well, knew that his words were commands that brooked no argument. Still, the reluctance in his eyes made something in Ivy's chest tighten.
Dom's gaze, however, was unwavering, holding an intensity that made it clear this was not a moment for resistance. Luka's hesitation was palpable, but finally, with a brief nod, he stepped away, the doors shutting behind him with a soft thud. The sound resonated, leaving Ivy alone with Dom once more—an isolation that felt both suffocating and inescapable.
"Come here," Dom said, tapping the empty spot beside him on the couch. His expression was unreadable, a mask of dominance softened only by the subtle lift of his brow. It was an invitation, or perhaps a challenge—nothing was ever as simple as it seemed with him.
Ivy's body tensed, the unspoken weight between them pressing on her shoulders. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to stand her ground, to defy him, but the glint in his eyes dared her to move. She shifted uneasily, the conflict in her chest warring with the unrelenting pull he had over her.
Slowly, she took one step, then another, until she was close enough to feel the heat radiating off him. The moment she sat on the cool leather, a shiver traveled down her spine. Dom's gaze never left her, dark and calculating, as though trying to unravel her every thought.
"Ivy," he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur, "do you trust me?" The question lingered in the air, heavy with implications. He leaned in, and she could feel the weight of his attention, searching, probing. Her breath caught, and for the first time in a long while, she found herself unable to hide behind the practiced mask she wore so well.
When Ivy's eyes met his, she felt the weight of Dom's gaze press down on her, refusing to let her look away. A shiver traced her spine as he reached up, his fingers brushing along her jawline with a touch so gentle it sent a wave of unexpected warmth through her. She swallowed hard, the room's air thick with an unspoken tension. The subtle spark his touch left behind felt like it ignited something deep inside her, a tingle that lingered and made her question whether he felt it, too.
"Angel," Dom's voice was a rough murmur, drawing her focus to the piercing blue of his eyes. His breath was tinged with a hint of alcohol, sharp and intoxicating, enveloping her senses. The realization that he was possibly tipsy made her insides twist with worry. Before she could react or create distance between them, his fingers tightened ever so slightly, holding her in place.
"I just want to talk to you," he muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly as they roamed over her face. The brush of his finger against her lips made her catch her breath. For a moment, the room seemed to shrink around them, leaving just the two of them suspended in that fragile moment. Ivy's pulse thrummed with a mix of anticipation and confusion.
"A-About what?" she stammered, unable to hide the tremble in her voice. Dom didn't respond immediately; instead, he leaned in closer. The scent of his cologne, mixed with the faint bitterness of alcohol, became stronger, making her heart race. His gaze dropped to her neck, and before she could react, his hand moved with a deliberate slowness, grasping the band that held her ponytail. In one fluid motion, he slid it free, letting her hair fall in soft waves down her back.
Her breath hitched as she felt the shift, the sudden freedom of her hair a stark contrast to the tension that coiled in her chest. "What are you d—" she started, but the words faltered as his gaze met hers, fierce and unreadable, pulling her deeper into his world.
"Shut up," Dom's voice cut through the tension like a blade, low and commanding. The heat of his breath skimmed over Ivy's skin, igniting a tremor that she couldn't suppress. His lips hovered near her neck, teasingly close, as his hand traced a path down her body. Every inch he moved seemed calculated, a deliberate test of her resolve. When his fingers brushed the hem of her shirt, a jolt of nerves set her pulse racing. Ivy's eyes followed his touch; each second stretched into an eternity as he began to lift the fabric.
"Y-You said talk. That's not talking," Ivy's voice barely made it past her lips, the tremble betraying her composure.
Dom's movements stilled, an unreadable expression flickering in his eyes before a dark smirk curved his mouth. A low, rumbling laugh followed, deep and knowing. Whatever response she had anticipated from him, it wasn't the way he slowly pulled back, leaving a vacuum of warmth where he'd been.
There was a spark in his gaze now, something dangerously alive and unrelenting. Ivy's cheeks flushed as she hastily tugged her shirt back into place, the rush of blood pounding in her ears. Dom's smirk widened, his eyes slowly traveling up her form, landing on her face with a look that made her breath catch.
"Not everything needs words, angel," he said, voice rough with an emotion that was equal parts promise and challenge.
"You aren't as ruthless as I thought," Ivy muttered, eyes slipping down to her lap to avoid his searing gaze. Dom's sharp smirk cut through the room, his hands steady as he reached for another drink. The movement sent her pulse into overdrive. He had already had enough—too much, in fact—and the thought of him pouring yet another glass made her skin tighten with unease.
"You aren't as innocent as you pretend to be," he replied, his voice smooth, taunting. It laced the air between them with an unspoken dare.
The heat in her chest flared, but she forced herself to stay silent, eyes burning into the floor. She won't give him the satisfaction of a reaction. But when he raised an eyebrow and pulled at the tie around his neck, sliding it off with a casual pull before tossing it across the room, the small act nearly unraveled her composure. It was a simple move, yet the tension it carried coiled in her core, making it impossible to breathe steadily.
"You're staring," he pointed out, his voice lowering with a knowing edge. Her eyes darted away as she bit down on the inside of her cheek. Heat licked up her neck, betraying her attempt to appear unfazed. He watched her struggle, eyes darkening with intent. She needed to keep her guard up, not let him crack through the layers she'd so carefully built.
"Your brother," he started, the sudden change in his tone striking like a match in a silent room. Ivy's gaze snapped back to him, heart pounding harder. His eyes found hers, unreadable and deep. "I'll help you find him."
The words sent a shiver through her. She couldn't tell if it was the promise in his voice or the weight of the hope that surged through her, but her resolve softened just for a heartbeat.
"W-Why? Why do you want to help me?" Ivy's voice was tight and hesitant as her eyes darted to Dom's, searching for the hidden motive. There had to be one. This world didn't offer help without expecting a heavy price in return.
Dom's lips curled into a smirk, but it wasn't the kind that brought comfort. It was cold, calculated, carrying the power of someone who held all the strings. The air around them seemed to shift, pressing down with a weight that made Ivy's chest tighten. That smirk was enough to grip her heart and hold it, unyielding.
"Because you are going to help me, Angel. I need to find someone, Lorenzo Ricci. He's been a ghost ever since childhood. No records, no face to his name—but you will find him. You will uncover his identity and his whereabouts, and you will bring him to me. Do that, and I will make finding your brother my priority," Dom declared, his gaze unwavering, sharp as the edge of a blade. "Do we have a deal?"
Ivy's pulse hammered in her ears. The room seemed smaller, the air thinner. "H-How do I know I can trust y—"
"Angel," Dom's voice dropped, eyes locking hers with an intensity that left no room for doubt. "You've seen what I'm capable of. You know I don't make promises I won't keep. A favor is a favor I will never forget. I always repay my debts. Do you understand?" He arched a brow, the unspoken demand hanging between them.
Silence stretched, suffocating, and deep. Ivy's eyes burned into his, the fear in her veins at war with the spark of hope he dangled just out of reach.
Ivy gulped, a shiver running down her spine before she nodded, eyes locked with Dom's. "I do."
Dom's expression softened for a fraction of a second, a rare glimpse behind his icy exterior. "Good."
"What about after I help you and after we find Ethan? What happens to me?" Ivy's voice was steady, but the flicker of vulnerability in her gaze spoke volumes.
Dom's jaw tightened as if weighing a response that would hold more power than any promise. His eyes narrowed, sharp and unwavering. "That, Angel, is something I'll decide when the time comes. But know this—I protect what is mine."
A storm of emotions surged inside Ivy, battling reason and fear. The thought of her twin brother, the memories that haunted her every night, clenched her heart like a vice. Finding him was everything. It didn't matter how many walls she tore down or how deep she delved into the shadows of the underworld—nothing had given her the leverage to reach him.
Until now, this deal was her only shot, even if it came at a cost she couldn't yet fathom. The darkness in Dom's eyes, the unyielding promise of his words, meant she might find herself trapped in a cage of his making. And yet, there was no choice.
"Yes," she whispered, voice trembling as determination settled in her chest, steady and unrelenting. "We do."