Chapter Sixty Four.

“Ugh…”

A soft groan escaped Xena’s lips as her brows furrowed in discomfort. Her eyes fluttered open, and she jolted upright in bed, gasping, her breath ragged and unsteady.

Her hands clutched tightly onto the soft duvet beneath her, trying to ground herself. Panic surged through her veins like a wildfire.

‘No… no…’

The room was dimly lit, unfamiliar. The air was heavier, colder. This wasn’t Viktor’s mansion. The walls weren’t the same shade, the furniture didn’t match, and the scent… it was all wrong.

Her heart pounded as realization struck her.

“Oh God… I was kidnapped.” she whispered in disbelief, stumbling out of the bed, her bare feet hitting the cold floor. She pulled herself free from the sheets and darted toward the door.

But before her fingers could wrap around the handle, a voice deep, composed, and cruelly amused—cut through the silence.

“You look even more beautiful when you’re afraid, *Tesoro*.”

Her entire body froze. Her breath caught in her throat as she slowly turned around.

Marco was there—seated casually on a luxurious leather couch in the corner.

He wore a black shirt, the top buttons undone, revealing the sharp line of his collarbone. His sleeves were rolled to the elbow, veins lining his forearms, and in his hand, he lazily swirled a glass of amber whiskey.

His legs were crossed, posture relaxed, but his dark eyes were anything but calm.

They devoured her every movement.

He looked like sin—danger wrapped in elegance. And he didn’t even need to move to assert dominance. His presence was overwhelming.

Xena’s breathing grew heavier as she took a step back, her fear threatening to swallow her whole.

“Why are you doing this?!” she snapped, her voice breaking. “I don’t even know who the hell you are!”

Marco’s lips curled into a slow, dark smirk.

“Oh wow… my wife doesn’t even recognize her husband?” Marco chuckled darkly, slowly rising to his feet.

He downed the last of his whiskey and set the glass aside, his eyes still locked on Xena like a predator circling his prey.

Xena backed up, her hands balled into fists. Her breathing was shaky. She didn’t care how tall or good-looking he was—this man was crazy.

“Just in case your memory’s screwed, I’m not your wife. I’ve never seen you in my life, and I definitely don’t remember marrying some creepy, delusional psychopath.” Xena hissed, her voice trembling with a mix of rage and fear.

Marco was now barely two feet away. His smirk lingered, but it carried something darker now—a cruel amusement layered beneath fury.

“Ah… I see.” he said slowly. “So your dear Nana didn’t just hide you well… she hid the truth too.”

Xena froze. Her heart skipped.

*Nana?*

*How did he know about her grandmother? And what truth?*

Her mind spun, trying to make sense of his words, but then he reached out, fingers brushing through her hair.

He plucked a strand gently, brought it to his nose… and inhaled before pressing a kiss to it.

Xena recoiled violently.

“Get away from me, you freak!” she shouted, slapping his hand away. Her eyes were blazing now. “I don’t want anything to do with this twisted fantasy of yours. I want to get out of here! And where the hell is Anya?!”

Marco didn’t flinch. He stood still, his head tilting slightly to the side as he stared at her—expression unreadable, emotion stripped from his face. But his clenched jaw and twitching fingers betrayed his fury.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he finally said, his voice low, rough with restrained anger. “Your parents gave you to me, Xena. It was a deal. You were promised to me. And then They lied. Hid you. Took what was mine.”

His voice cracked slightly with intensity, his stare drilling into her like he could rip the truth from her soul.

“And now… now you’re parading around with that Russian mutt, claiming he owns you! *Viktor*” He spat the name like venom. “You think he can protect you from me?”

Xena’s whole world tilted. Her breath caught in her throat. The weight of what he said slammed into her chest.

*Promised…? Given…? Her parents?*

She blinked, completely stunned, her voice caught in her throat as Marco’s madness crashed into her reality—dragging along a truth she never saw coming.

Then she began shaking her head slowly, her eyes wide, heart racing, lips trembling like a storm was building inside her.

Marco just stood there, watching her unravel with a dark, amused chuckle that made her skin crawl.

“No… no, you’re lying.” Xena whispered, her voice breaking. “My parents… they wouldn’t… they *wouldn’t* give me away to someone like *you*.”

Her voice cracked on the last word. Her chest was tightening, her legs barely holding her up. It was too much—this place, this man, this nightmare.

Marco tilted his head, his smile never fading, but now there was something twisted underneath it.

“I would never lie to you, *Tesoro*,” he said in that sickeningly calm voice. “I have the contract if you’d like to see it. Signed. Sealed. Promised. You were theirs, and now… you’re mine.”

He took a slow step toward her, and before she could move, he leaned down, eye-level with her. His fingers lifted her chin, gentle but firm, forcing her to meet his gaze.

Xena’s breath hitched.

His eyes were like a void—dark, obsessed, utterly unhinged. There was something in them that didn’t belong to a sane man.

“You are mine.” Marco said softly, like a vow, and Xena’s entire body went stiff.

Something inside her screamed.

Her instincts flared. And without even thinking, she shoved him back and slapped him—

**hard**

The sound cracked through the room like lightning. Marco’s head snapped slightly to the side from the force of it.

Silence. Thick. Suffocating.

Xena stood there, chest heaving, eyes wide, her heart pounding like a war drum. The only thing she could hear was her own breath echoing in the room.

Marco didn’t move.

He just stood there, his face turned, the red handprint blooming on his cheek. He slowly brought his gaze back to her—and it had changed.

Gone was the smugness. Gone was the playfulness.

What stared back at her now… was rage barely contained beneath obsession.

“If my Nana hid me from you..” Xena spat, voice trembling but strong, “then I thank her. Because whatever deal you think you had with my parents? It’s dead. I am *not* yours. I will *never* be yours.”

She took a bold step forward, her fists clenched. “I would rather run into the arms of that Russian ‘mutt’ than spend another *second* breathing the same air as you.”

Marco stared at her in complete silence.

And then—he smiled. But it wasn’t a normal smile. It was the kind that sent cold down your spine.

“You think this is a choice, *Tesoro*?”

He took a step forward. Then another.

And Xena froze as her back touched the wall.

“You don’t even know who you are yet,” he whispered, eyes gleaming with something dark. “You don’t know who you belong to yet. But you will.”

His voice dipped lower, like a warning. A promise.

“And when the truth comes out... you'll *beg* to be mine.”

Xena’s eyes widened—

But before she could say a word, the heavy door behind Marco creaked open—

And a voice called out:

“Marco… we have a problem.”

He didn’t turn. He just stood there, still staring at her, that same twisted smile on his face.

“I’ll be back, my sweet..” he murmured. “Don’t miss me too much.”

And with that, he walked away.

Leaving Xena in the silence of the room.

Alone. Trapped. And with no idea that everything she thought she knew… was about to be shattered.