Amelia’s frail body was dragged from the sleek black car, her soft cries drowned by the crunch of gravel under Marcus’s polished leather shoes. Her hands clawed at his iron grip on her hair, the pain searing her scalp. She stumbled, her knees scraping against the hard ground, but Marcus didn’t pause. His face was a mask of cold indifference, his jaw set and his eyes blazing with a darkness that made her heart race with terror.

“Please, sir Please!” Amelia’s voice cracked, trembling like her frail body. “Please let me go.............! I want to go home.”

Marcus stopped abruptly, his towering figure casting a menacing shadow over her petite frame. “Home?” His voice was sharp, dripping with mockery. “Do you think you can walk out of my world unscathed, девочка? You’ve seen too much.”

Tears streamed down Amelia’s face as she shook her head violently. “I didn’t see anything—I swear! You think I fuck care about you see or not!”

“Now just shut the fuck up if you don't want me to cut your tongue into slices,” Marcus said coldly, yanking her forward.

As they approached his mansion, Amelia was struck by its sheer size and grandeur, though the fear coursing through her veins dulled her awe. The estate was enormous, a sprawling masterpiece of wealth and power. Marble columns framed the massive entrance, intricate carvings of lions and serpents lined the walls, and fountains spouted crystal-clear water under the glow of golden lights. Several luxury cars gleamed in the driveway, their polished surfaces reflecting the night sky. A line of bodyguards in black suits flanked the front door, their expressions blank but intimidating.

“Welcome back, sir,” one of the guards said, nodding slightly. His sharp features and bulging frame were a stark contrast to Amelia’s fragile form, which now looked even more out of place in the opulent surroundings.

Marcus didn’t respond. Instead, he hauled Amelia inside, her cries echoing in the cavernous halls. The interior of the mansion was even more lavish. Chandeliers hung like dripping jewels from the high ceilings, their crystals scattering light across the black-and-gold marble floors. Priceless artwork adorned the walls—portraits of ancestors with steely gazes, scenes of battle and conquest. A grand staircase spiraled up to the upper floors, its banisters gilded in gold.

“Stop last time I warned you,” Marcus hissed as Amelia’s knees buckled again. He pulled her to her feet roughly, ignoring her whimpers.

“I’ll do anything,” Amelia begged. “Please don’t hurt me.”

His lip curled in disdain. “Anything, you say? Funny how that word never holds its weight.”

The butler, a wiry old man with piercing eyes, stepped forward, his head bowed. “Shall I have refreshments prepared, Mr. Grayson?”

“Not now, Edgar,” Marcus snapped. “I have... other matters to handle.”

Edgar’s gaze flickered to Amelia briefly, but he said nothing and stepped back into the shadows. The staff in the mansion were well-trained—loyal to Marcus to the point of silence. No one would dare question his actions.

Amelia’s breath hitched as Marcus led her down a dimly lit corridor, far from the grandeur of the main hall. The walls here were bare, the floors cold concrete. The air grew heavier, tinged with a faint metallic scent that sent shivers down her spine.

“Where are you taking me?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Marcus didn’t answer. He stopped in front of a heavy, reinforced door, pulling a key from his pocket. The sound of the lock turning was deafening in the silence, and when the door creaked open, Amelia’s stomach dropped.

The room was small and windowless, the walls lined with shelves of tools and ropes. A single chair sat in the center, its metal frame bolted to the floor. A flickering fluorescent light cast eerie shadows, making the tools on the wall gleam ominously. The atmosphere reeked of despair, as though the room itself had absorbed the fear of its previous occupants.

“No,” Amelia whimpered, trying to back away. “Please, no.”

Marcus shoved her forward, and she stumbled, nearly falling to the floor. “You should have thought twice before crossing paths with me,” he said, his voice low and menacing.

“I didn’t cross you! I don’t even know what I did wrong!” Amelia sobbed, clutching her arms as if to shield herself.

Marcus grabbed a length of rope from the wall, his movements deliberate. “What you did wrong was existing in the wrong place at the wrong time. That’s enough.”

He tied her hands to the chair with practiced ease, ignoring her cries and futile attempts to resist. His fingers were firm but methodical, showing no hesitation.

“What do you want from me?” she asked desperately, her voice hoarse from crying.

Marcus crouched in front of her, his dark eyes boring into hers. “I want you to respect my rules you are fucking dealing with a bastard man. And if you can’t...” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I have other ways ....................................”

“You’re a monster,” Amelia spat, her fear momentarily overshadowed by a spark of defiance.

Marcus chuckled darkly, rising to his full height. “A monster, am I? Perhaps. But monsters are the ones who survive in this world.” He gestured toward the door, and two of his bodyguards entered, their imposing figures making the room feel even smaller.

“Watch her,” Marcus ordered. “She doesn’t leave this room unless I say so.”

“Yes, sir,” one of the guards replied, his tone devoid of emotion.

Marcus turned back to Amelia, his expression unreadable. “I suggest you behave. Because if you don’t...” He leaned down, his lips close to her ear. “I’ll make sure your family pays the price.”

Amelia’s blood ran cold. She thought of her younger brother, and her mother struggling to make ends meet. “No,” she whispered. “Leave them out of this.”

“Then do as I say,” Marcus said simply, straightening his suit jacket. “And maybe, just maybe, you’ll survive.”

He strode out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. The guards took their positions by the door, their faces expressionless. Amelia sat in the chair, her wrists raw from the ropes and her body trembling with fear. The weight of her captivity pressed down on her, suffocating her hope.

But even in the depths of her despair, a small ember of resistance burned within her. She didn’t know how or when, but she vowed to find a way out of this nightmare.