The tension in the VIP room was palpable as Jesse's cold eyes scanned the stunned faces of his men. Bianca lay limp in his arms, her frail form a stark contrast to the domineering figure carrying her. Whispers buzzed among the onlookers, disbelief mingled with curiosity.
"Is he actually carrying her himself?" one murmured, baffled.
"This is new. But we all know how this ends," another added, shaking his head knowingly. Jesse wasn't known for compassion, least of all for women under his control.
Ignoring their comments, Jesse carried Bianca into his private quarters, his jaw set in a tight line. The door slammed shut behind him, silencing the murmurs outside. He carefully laid her down on the massive bed, his expression unreadable. As he looked at her, something tightened in his chest. Her shallow breathing and the dark circles beneath her eyes told a story of exhaustion and neglect.
Her stomach growled faintly, breaking the silence. Jesse frowned. His sharp eyes traced her face, catching the faint remnants of her smeared makeup. She hadn't just danced herself into exhaustion—she was running on empty.
With a snap of his fingers, he summoned one of his men, who entered the room trembling. The enforcer bowed his head low, his fear evident.
"Explain this," Jesse demanded, his voice a low growl. "Why is she like this?"
The man stammered. "I—I handed her off to the girls for training, boss. That's all."
"Bring them to me," Jesse ordered, his tone like ice.
The enforcer fled the room, returning moments later with Valentina and Caria. Both women knelt immediately, their faces pale as they dared not meet Jesse's gaze.
Jesse's eyes burned into Valentina. "Did you make her dance today?"
Valentina swallowed hard. "Sir, she was handed over to us this morning. We were told she was already experienced as a stripper. She's… good at it."
Jesse's glare deepened. "And?"
"She told me she was uncomfortable," Valentina continued quickly. "She's scared of crowds. And… she wasn't comfortable with the dress." She hesitated but pushed forward. "I wanted to let her rest, but—"
"Why didn't you?" Jesse's voice was dangerously quiet.
"We thought… we thought she could handle it," Valentina admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Caria chimed in, her voice trembling. "She hasn't eaten, sir. I didn't realize until later that she didn't have dinner with us. There was nothing left by the time I noticed."
Jesse's face hardened. His hand twitched toward the gun at his hip. "You treated her like garbage. Handed her over to work without even making sure she was fed or rested."
Caria's lip quivered, and Valentina clutched her knees tightly, sensing the fury radiating off Jesse.
Without another word, Jesse pulled the gun from his pocket. The metallic click as he cocked the weapon echoed through the room. Caria screamed, but before either woman could react, Jesse turned the barrel on the enforcer who'd brought them in.
The shot rang out, deafening in the enclosed space. Blood splattered across the floor as the man's body crumpled to the ground.
Valentina gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. Bianca stirred on the bed, her eyes fluttering open at the sound.
She bolted upright, her breathing ragged as she took in the grisly scene. Her gaze darted from Jesse, who stood with the smoking gun, to the lifeless body on the floor.
Her lips trembled. "What… what happened?"
Valentina rushed to her, pulling her into a hug. "It's okay," she whispered. "You're safe. He won't hurt you."
Bianca's eyes darted back to Jesse, her heart pounding. The cold, ruthless expression on his face made her doubt Valentina's words.
Jesse's jaw clenched. He tucked the gun away, glancing at the terrified women. "Clean this up," he barked, before storming out of the room.
Moments later, a group of men entered to drag the body away. Another group followed, carrying trays of food and soft linens. They placed the items on a side table before retreating as quickly as they'd arrived.
Bianca's hands shook as she clutched Valentina. "I… I can't stay here. What if he kills me next?"
Valentina smoothed her hair, trying to calm her. "He won't. He… he cares about you, even if he doesn't show it."
Bianca let out a hollow laugh, her voice tinged with disbelief. "Cares? He just killed someone in front of me."
Valentina picked up a plate of food and offered it to her. "Eat. You need your strength. He'll expect you to recover quickly."
Bianca hesitated but took a small bite, her eyes flicking nervously around the room. As she chewed, Valentina glanced at Jesse's private quarters, her own curiosity piqued.
"You're stronger than you think," Valentina whispered. "Just hold on. You'll figure a way out of this."
Bianca nodded, though her thoughts were far from hopeful. For now, all she could do was survive.
Bianca had been moved from the suffocating underground quarters to Jesse's mansion—a stark contrast to the dark, oppressive space she had endured. Her new room, situated right next to Jesse's, was a picture of luxury, outfitted with an opulent bed, a walk-in closet filled with designer clothes, and an en suite bathroom that looked like it belonged in a palace. It was enough to make her question whether this was real or just another twisted game.
For three days, she hadn't seen Jesse. The maids tended to her needs, delivering meals, drawing baths, and ensuring she had no reason to leave the room. Yet the silence gnawed at her, leaving her on edge. Her surroundings might have been beautiful, but it felt more like a gilded cage.
On the third morning, Bianca decided to distract herself. After showering, she sat in front of the vanity, applying lotion to her skin, her thoughts spiraling. What did Jesse want from her? Why had she been treated so differently after collapsing in the underground?
Her reflection caught the sudden movement of the door swinging open, and she spun around to find Jesse standing there. She froze, realizing she was in nothing but a thin towel wrapped hastily around her.
Jesse's dark eyes roamed her figure, but his expression remained unreadable. Unlike other men she'd encountered, he seemed unaffected by her state of undress—or perhaps he hid it too well.
"Take it off," he ordered, his voice low and dangerous.
Bianca's grip tightened on the towel. "Excuse me?" she managed to say, her voice trembling.
"Now," Jesse said, stepping further into the room. His tone was cold, almost bored, but the intensity of his gaze made her heart race.
Bianca's mind raced. Was this some sort of test? Or was it another one of his twisted ways to exert control? "Why?" she demanded, summoning what little courage she had.
Jesse's expression darkened. "When I give an order, I expect it to be followed. Do it, or I'll do it for you."
Her breathing quickened, and she felt trapped, like prey cornered by a predator. With shaking hands, she let the towel slip to the floor, standing before him vulnerable and exposed. Her cheeks burned with humiliation, but she forced herself to meet his gaze, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her crumble.
Jesse's eyes swept over her body, his face unreadable. For a moment, she thought she saw something flicker in his expression—irritation? Restraint? Whatever it was, it was gone in an instant.
"When I tell you to do something, don't hesitate," he said sharply, his voice a razor's edge. "Hesitation could cost you your life here."
Bianca swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. "When… when will I leave?"
Jesse's lips curled into a humorless smirk. "Leave? Not until you've paid off every cent of the million dollars your brother owes me."
Her knees nearly buckled. "A million dollars?" she repeated, her voice cracking. "How… how could he owe that much?"
"That's not your concern," Jesse said, taking a step closer. Bianca instinctively moved back, but there was nowhere to go.
"You'll work it off. Either with your skills or…" His gaze lingered on her lips, her chest, her trembling hands. "Other ways."
Bianca's stomach churned at the implication, and she clenched her fists. "This isn't fair," she muttered, her voice shaking.
Jesse's jaw tightened. "Life isn't fair. And your brother knew what he was doing when he ran up this debt. Now it's your problem."
She wanted to scream, to demand answers, but his presence was suffocating. He stepped closer again, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat.
Bianca's breath hitched as he leaned in, his face inches from hers. His eyes burned into hers, and she could feel the tension radiating from him. His hand hovered near her shoulder, but he didn't touch her.
"You're trouble," he muttered, almost to himself. "Everything about you…" He trailed off, his gaze flicking to her lips for a brief second before he straightened abruptly, turning away as though disgusted by his own thoughts.
Bianca stood frozen, her mind racing. What had just happened? She couldn't tell if Jesse's irritation was directed at her—or himself.
Without another word, Jesse left the room, slamming the door behind him. Bianca collapsed onto the bed, her legs trembling. The power he held over her wasn't just physical—it was psychological.
She stared at the closed door, her heart pounding. "What am I going to do?" she whispered to herself. She felt like a pawn in a dangerous game, but she knew one thing for sure: she couldn't let Jesse break her.