Chapter 7

Killian

The sound of her sobs followed me to the door, clawing at the edges of my resolve.

Jonah was waiting outside, his expression pained as if he could hear every echo of Marcella's distress. "She's just scared, Killian. Maybe we can—"

"Save your sympathy, Jonah," I snapped, the anger boiling under my skin suddenly finding an outlet. "It has no place here. Remember who we are. Remember what we do." My hands clenched into fists at my sides, fighting the urge to shake some sense into him.

He opened his mouth, possibly to argue, but the hard look in my eye must have convinced him otherwise. He closed it and nodded, though the worry didn't leave his face.

"Good," I said, the word slicing through the tension. I turned away from him, my thoughts already shifting, recalculating. If Jonah was growing soft, then I needed to be twice as hard. Marcella had become a liability, a weakness I couldn't afford.

"Make sure she eats Jonah. Or there will be no more food for her" I ordered over my shoulder, my voice devoid of emotion—the way it had to be. I could feel Jonah's hesitation, but I didn't wait for his response. I strode down the hallway, the image of Marcella’s tear-stained face etched into my mind, unwelcome and persistent. The cruelty, the necessary evil—it was the armor that kept me alive in this life. And no amount of tears could pierce through that.

I stormed off to find Dom, my mind a tumultuous sea of frustration. "Any news on Ana?" I demanded without a preamble when I found him.

"Still digging," Dom replied, his steady gaze on his screen not matching my impatience. "It's a deep well, Killian. These things take time."

"Time is a luxury we don't have!" I barked, slamming my fist against the wall, the impact reverberating through the silent corridor. “Where can a small fucking girl go Dom? How hard can it be to find that bitch?”

“I’m trying Killian. There is one possibility but I hope to God it's not true.” Dom said, still typing away on his stupid laptop.

“What possibility?” He felt the fury crossing through him as his mind connected with Dom's train of thought.

Tony.

If that is true and Ana is really with Tony, their end will be more pleasurable then i thought.

Catching on the fact that I figured where he was going with this, what Dom said next made the fury in me burn hotter. “Your new pet will be more in danger if her sister is actually with Tony.”

“I can't deal with this right now. This is one possibility, I need to know where that bitch is by tomorrow Dom. I'm serious.”

With that I turned to leave when a thought came to my mind. Find out what you can for the girl too. She might know where her dubious bitch of a sister is.

“I don't think she knows.” His reply was in a calm voice as if answering me was a burden for him.

“And how did you figure that?”

“Do you think she would have even an ounce of loyalty for a sister who was her fiance's side piece? Not a chance.”

“I know she will go to any extent to protect the people she feels loyal to. She named her bakery after her whore of a sister.”

“And she didn't know how much of a whore her sister is. Her face in the alley said everything.” Dom said

“And now you can read faces?” My mind went back to that day. She was frightened to the core. Her beautiful begging to let her and her fiance go. That was no act.

“Better than you apparently.” There was a slight smile which was a rarity for my little brother

“Watch it. You two are on a mission to fuck uo with me more than anyone has.” With that i left him to get back to whatever he needs to do.

As I stalked back to my quarters, Marcella's tears haunted me. They were a testament to my own failing – a weakness I couldn't admit. It made me furious, this unexpected empathy for the captive that chipped away at the fortress around my heart.

In the solitude of my room, I called for one of the maids, seeking a distraction from the unwelcome emotions gnawing at my insides. She arrived promptly, her movements practiced and provoking, but tonight, the usual anticipation didn't stir within me.

"Come here," I muttered, but even as she approached, a nauseating sense of disinterest overtook me. She knelt down in front of me and all I could feel was disgust. Her hands slowly moved up my pants and when they reach the one place which should be hard as fuck right now, I snapped.

"Killian?" she queried, confusion painting her delicate features as she realized her tricks were not doing anything for me.

"Get out!" I roared suddenly, the sound tearing from my throat before I could rein it in. She scurried away, leaving me alone with the roaring silence and the bitter taste of self-loathing.

I sat on the edge of the bed, head in hands, grappling with the realization that no amount of physical pleasure could distract me from the turmoil that Marcella's vulnerability had sparked. It was a slow burn, an ember that refused to be extinguished, no matter how much I willed the flame to die.

Dom needs to find her soon so I can get her sister away from this place as soon as possible. These mind games need to stop. Once and for all. I can't deal with seeming weak infront of anyone. Especially not because of my captive.

_______________

The morning light crept through the kitchen windows, casting a golden hue over the polished marble countertops. I took everything in with my coffee and just stood there for a moment, It wanst everyday a morning was this peaceful. Something else was peaceful. It was the silence from the other side of the door that beckoned me more urgently than my caffeine ritual.

With measured steps, I approached Marcella's door, my hand hovering over the handle as I gathered myself. It wasn't just about control; it was about maintaining the balance between captor and captive. A deep breath steadied my pulse, and I shoved the door open with a force that bounced it off the wall.

"Damn it, Marcella," I muttered under his breath.

There she was, sprawled on the floor like a fallen angel, defiance etched into every line of her body—even in sleep. The untouched tray of food beside her was a silent testament to her rebellion. My first instinct was to let anger flood my veins, but instead, a reluctant smile played at the corner of my lips. This woman, this infuriatingly beautiful creature, was testing me at every turn.

I maneuvered down to my crutches, closing the distance between us with a controlled rhythm. I didn’t call her "Mia belleza" for nothing. She lay there, her chest rising and falling softly, her face a portrait of peace amidst chaos. It hurt to look at her sometimes, how she could stir something within me that I thought never existed.

"Time to wake up, princess," I whispered, though I knew she couldn't hear me.

My gaze lingered on the tray. Mind made up. I picked her up with surprising ease. Her body yielded to my arms in a way that contradicted their entire relationship. I laid her gently on the bed, noting the softness of her skin against the roughness of my hands.

"Can't have you sleeping on the floor," I said to myself, a wry tone in my voice. I looked for my target and finally found them.

A few pieces of discarded clothing and fashioned them into makeshift restraints. As I tied her to the bed, my mind raced with the implications of what I was doing. Control was essential, but so was the dangerous game they were playing.

It seemed like an eternity before her eyelids fluttered open, confusion giving way to fear. She tugged at her bindings and met my eyes, a silent question forming.

"Good morning, Marcella," I greeted with a sardonic grin. "Sleep well?"

"Why... why am I tied up?" Her voice trembled, but there was an underlying note of fury that pleased me. More than it should.

"Because you need to learn," I replied, gesturing to the tray. "You will show respect for what is given to you, or you will have nothing at all."

"Please," she begged, her pride crumbling, "I need to use the bathroom."

My laughter was cold, devoid of any warmth as I stood and made my way to the door. "Patience, Mia belleza. You'll learn yet."

"Please" Her voice was soft. So soft it was heard to hear if not listening closely

"Tell me where your sister is and i'll remove your ties." Her face paled. Drained out of all color before i could finish my sentence.

"My s-sister?" He cracked voice did nothing to me. Or so i thought.

"Yes, Anastasia Stark. Your fiances whore." Her terrified experssion gave me something. That this woman did not know what was going on behind her back.

A cruel smile took over my face as i stalked towards her, taking my phone out of my pocket. I pulled out what i was looking for and turned the screen towards her.

My storng Belleza did not turn to see my screen so i gripped her chin a little harder than needed and turned her face towards a picture of her sister and fiance in an embrace. an embrace not appropriate for someone to be in with her soon to be brother in law.

"Looks like your sister knew what she wanted and took it. Now lets see if you have it in you too."

"What do you mean?" her words below a whisper. The strings to my heart tugged when i saw a tear fall down her beautiful face.

"What i mean is, are you going to let her win. Or are you going to."

"Win how?"

i looked her really and knew her kind heart would never agree to what i was about to suggest. But it was worth a shot.

I leaned forward. moving in her space. Her breath caught and a smile tugged up my face. Did she feel it too?

"Win back you dignity." I used my tongue to lick up her tears. Her anguish should not make me feel as i should. i should not be this hard as a rock.

I straightened up and looked at her. "Decide what you want. i want an answer when i come back. Your answer will tell me how your visit here with be like."

And with those final words, I left her there, bound not only by ropes but by the fear of not knowing what will happen next.