I HAD JUST RETURNED home from school, expecting to hear the familiar sounds of my mom bustling in the kitchen or my dad flipping through the news on TV. But as I stepped through the front door, an eerie silence greeted me instead. My bag felt heavier than usual as I slung it off my shoulder and called out, “Mom? Dad?”

No one answered.

The house felt… off. The kind of stillness that prickled your skin and made your heart race even though nothing was visibly wrong.

I dropped my bag by the door and walked through the living room, calling again. “Mom? Dad? Are you home?” My voice echoed faintly against the walls, the usual warmth of our little home replaced by a chilling emptiness.

As I neared the dining area, I froze. My heart stopped. My parents were there, seated rigidly at the table, their faces pale with fear. Standing behind them were three men, each dressed in black suits, their presence exuding danger. One of them had a gun casually resting against the table, his fingers tapping its surface like he had all the time in the world.

“W-What’s going on?” I stammered, stepping closer despite the alarm bells ringing in my head. Who are they? What are they doing here in our house?

One of the men turned his head, his gaze cold and calculating. “You must be Alana,” he said, his voice dripping with menace.

“Leave her out of this!” my dad barked, his voice trembling but fierce. “She has nothing to do with this!”

“Do with what?” I asked, my voice rising as panic set in. “W-What’s happening?”

The man with the gun leaned back in his chair, amused by my confusion. “Your parents owe our boss a significant amount of money. They’ve had plenty of time to repay it, but… let’s just say their deadline has expired.”

My mom’s eyes filled with tears, her lips quivering as she whispered, “Alana, run. Go!”

Run? How could I run when my parents were sitting there, held hostage by men who clearly meant business? My legs felt like lead, rooted to the ground as the weight of the situation hit me.

“What do you want?” I asked, trying to sound braver than I felt.

The man smirked, standing up and towering over me. “If they can’t pay with money, the boss is willing to accept… other forms of payment.”

The room spun. “What do you mean?”

He stepped closer, his eyes scanning me like I was some object being appraised. “You. You’ll come with us. Work off their debt.”

“No!” my dad shouted, his voice breaking. “You can’t take her! Take me instead!”

The man laughed, a cold, hollow sound. “Your life doesn’t hold the same value to our boss. But your daughter? She’ll suffice.”

“No, please! Not Alana!” my mom begged, her hands clasped tightly together. “Not our daughter!”

Tears blurred my vision, but I didn’t hesitate. My parents were everything to me. They had sacrificed so much for me, and I couldn’t let them suffer because of this.

“I’ll… d-do it,” I said, my voice trembling but firm.

“Alana, no!” my mom sobbed, shaking her head. “What are you saying?!”

“It’s okay, Mom,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. “It’ll be okay.” I still managed to smile at them despite my tears forming at the corner of my eyes to assure them.

The men wasted no time. They grabbed me by the arm, dragging me toward the door as my parents cried out, their voices breaking my heart. I looked back one last time, memorizing their faces before I was pulled outside and shoved into a sleek black car.

The drive felt like an eternity. I didn’t ask where we were going. I wasn’t sure but I wanted to know. My stomach churned with fear, but I kept thinking about my parents. I had to stay strong for them.

Eventually, the car pulled up to a massive mansion, its high gates and towering walls making it look more like a fortress than a home. The men escorted me inside. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings, and marble floors gleamed beneath my feet. It was a stark contrast to the terror twisting inside me.

They led me to a grand study, its walls lined with shelves of books that looked like they had never been touched. Seated behind a large mahogany desk was a man who exuded power. His dark hair was slicked back, and his piercing gray eyes locked onto mine the moment I entered the room.

“So, this is the payment,” he said, his voice smooth yet commanding.

The men nodded, releasing their grip on my arms. I stood there, trying not to flinch under his scrutinizing gaze.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“A-Alana… Alana Smith,” I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Alana. I’m Achilles Ricafort.”

I had heard that name before, whispered in fearful tones. Achilles Ricafort was a notorious mafia boss, someone whose very presence could send shivers down your spine. And now, I was standing in front of him, my life no longer my own.

“What are you going to do with me?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“That depends,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Your parents’ debt is substantial. You’ll stay here, and in time, we’ll see if you’re worth the trouble.”

I wanted to scream, to run, but I knew there was no escape. Not yet, at least. So I nodded, forcing myself to appear calm even though every fiber of my being was screaming in fear.

“Good,” he said, standing up and walking around the desk. He was tall, his presence even more intimidating up close. “You’ll follow the rules here, Alana. Disobey me, and there will be consequences.”

I nodded again, my throat dry.

“Take her to her room,” he said to the men, dismissing me like I was nothing more than an object.

They led me out of the study and up a grand staircase to a room that was bigger than my entire house. It was luxurious, with a four-poster bed, expensive furniture, and a view of the sprawling estate outside. But it felt like a gilded cage.

As the door closed behind me, I collapsed onto the bed, burying my face in my hands. Tears streamed down my cheeks as the reality of my situation sank in. I was trapped, a pawn in some twisted game, but I couldn’t let despair consume me.

I had to survive… for my parents, for myself. This was only the beginning.

FOR DAYS, I HAD been trapped within the cold, stone walls of the mansion. It was vast but I could barely glimpse of my own freedom. I couldn't help but to worry about my parents. Where are they now?

They allowed me to roam the halls, as if that was some kind of privilege, but the iron gates at the perimeter never wavered. I felt like a prisoner.

Every day, I tried to find someone to help me. A gardener, a cook, even the woman who dusted the countless, unnecessary shelves. But they all avoided me, like a shadow that wasn’t supposed to exist.

I heard his voice before I saw him that morning. Achilles. The name alone sent a chill down my spine.

"Good morning, Alana," he said, emerging from one of the grand staircases. It was a simple greeting but it brought fear and anxiousness inside me.

His presence was as suffocating as always. He looked casual, unbothered, as if my imprisonment was merely a matter of business to him. His dark eyes were sharp and his face was void of any emotions, making it impossible to decipher his thoughts.

I clenched my fists and stood tall, even though my knees felt like they could buckle at any moment. "G-Good morning," I replied, my voice laced with an edge I didn’t quite feel.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "It was nice to see that you're still holding on. That's good, because I'm not yet done with you.”

I took a step forward, determined not to let him intimidate me any longer. "What do you want from me? Why are you keeping me here?"

Achilles tilted his head, his lips curling into a small, almost lazy smile. "My, my… you're getting feisty, huh?”

"That's not an answer to my question," I snapped, anger flaring up despite my fear. "Let me go. I’m not-"

"I know what you’re not," he interrupted smoothly, stepping closer. "You’re not someone who listens. Or someone who understands the position they’re in."

I inhaled sharply, taking a step back before I could stop myself. The air between us grew taut, and my heartbeat thundered in my chest. But then, a desperate thought formed in my mind… a dangerous gamble, but one I had to take.

"If there’s something you want, just tell me," I said, my voice quieter now, almost pleading. "I’ll do it. Whatever it takes, just let me go."

Achilles paused. For a moment, something flickered across his face… an emotion I couldn’t name. Then his smile returned, darker this time. "Anything, huh? Are you sure about that, little kitten?"

The word hung in the air like a poisoned promise.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "Yes," I whispered, though my instincts screamed at me to run.

He studied me, his gaze piercing, as if he were searching for cracks in my resolve. "Very well," he said finally, his voice low and deliberate. "I want your body."

The words struck me like a physical blow. My breath hitched, and I stared at him, my mind scrambling to make sense of what I’d just heard.

"My… body?" I repeated, horrified.

He didn’t flinch. "Yes. Your body. Surrender it to me, and when I’m done, I’ll let you go."

I staggered back, bile rising in my throat. The room seemed to tilt, and my skin crawled under his unwavering gaze. "You’re disgusting," I spat, my voice trembling. "I’d rather die than give you-"

"Would you?" he cut in, his tone almost mocking. "Would you rather die, Alana? Because that’s the alternative. No one’s coming for you. No one even knows you’re here. You have no power, no leverage. But you have something I want."

I shook my head, my chest tightening with panic. "You’re lying. Someone will come for me. My family-"

"Your family… they're gone,” he said coldly. "And as if they'll have the courage to take you out from here. They're just a mere dust that I can easily blew off."

Tears pricked my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I turned away from him, my mind racing. There had to be another way out of this. There had to be.

"You can’t keep me here forever," I said, my voice steadier now. "You think you have all the power, but you don’t. One mistake, one slip, and I’ll find a way out."

Achilles chuckled softly behind me. "Oh, Alana. You’re even more naive than I thought. But I’ll give you some time to think. I’m a patient man."

I turned back to him, my glare burning with all the defiance I could muster. "You’re a monster," I said. "And I won’t let you win."

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "We’ll see," he murmured, brushing past me and disappearing into the shadows of the mansion.

I stood there for what felt like an eternity, my mind replaying his words over and over. My heart was pounding, my hands trembling. But one thing was clear… I had to find a way out of this nightmare.

No matter what it took.

MY HANDS TREMBLED as I poured wine into his goblet. Achilles sat across from me, his intense eyes studying my every move. After I made up my decision, I took the courage to see him in his study to give him my answer about what he said.

“What do you need, Alana?” he asked, his voice was laced with coldness that made me shiver.

“About what you said… I'm accepting it,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the crackling fire.

“Hmm?” His voice is laced with satisfaction.

“I’ll give you what you want. I'll let you use my… b-body,” I replied, meeting his gaze with a mix of defiance and resignation. “But only if you promise-”

He cut me off with a raised hand. “No conditions, Alana. You’re mine now.” His words were both a declaration and a warning.

“B-But–”

“I don't want any word from you. I didn't give you any permission.”

I clenched my hand into fist but eventually, I nodded, swallowing my pride. What choice did I have? Achilles wasn’t a man to be denied. He ruled not just the mansion but everyone in it, including me.

“Now, strip for me, little kitten. Show me the body that I'm about to claim,” he said as he smirked dangerously.

With my trembling hands, I slowly removed my clothes revealing my body that no one has ever seen before. I saw the fire in his eyes and it was obvious that he's stopping himself to destroy me.

“Don't expect me to be gentle. Come here and kneel for me. Take out my cock and pleasure me,” he added and even if I was hesitant, I followed. I pleasured him and in return, he made me reached my peak. He was insatiable that I felt like I was passing out any moment from now when he finally filled me to the brim.

And he was right. He's not gentle at all. It was damn painful.

He claimed me. His touch was both possessive and commanding. I gave myself to him, and in doing so, I felt the invisible chains tighten around my soul.

The days that followed were suffocating. Achilles had always been dominant, but now his possessiveness knew no bounds. It was as if my submission had ignited something primal in him. He followed my every move, questioned my every word.

“Where were you?” he demanded one afternoon when I returned from the garden.

“Just tending to the flowers,” I replied, holding up the basket of herbs as proof.

“With whom?” His eyes narrowed, the vein in his temple throbbing.

“No one,” I said quickly. “I was alone.”

His gaze lingered on me, searching for any hint of deceit. Satisfied, he finally turned away. “Good. Keep it that way.”

It was a sunny morning when the incident happened. I had been walking through the courtyard, trying to escape Achilles’ suffocating attention for just a moment. That’s when I saw Marcus, one of the guards. He was kind and soft-spoken, a rare warmth in this cold, unyielding mansion.

“Good morning, Lady Alana,” Marcus greeted me with a polite bow.

“Good morning,” I replied, smiling faintly. “How are you today?”

“I’m good. And you?”

Before I could respond, a shadow fell over us. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Achilles’ presence was unmistakable, a storm that demanded attention.

“Alana,” he said, his voice dangerously calm. “Step away.”

I looked up at Marcus, whose face had gone pale. “Achilles—”

“Now.” The single word dripped with menace.

I obeyed, retreating a few steps. Achilles stepped forward, his towering frame looming over Marcus.

“What were you discussing with her?” Achilles demanded.

“Nothing, my lord,” Marcus stammered. “She merely greeted me.”

“Is that so?” Achilles tilted his head, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. “Then why do I feel the need to remind you of your place?”

“Achilles, stop,” I said, my voice trembling. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”

His cold eyes flicked to me. “Stay out of this, Alana. You need to learn as well.”

Before I could protest, Achilles grabbed Marcus by the collar and dragged him to the center of the courtyard. The other guards and servants stopped in their tracks, their eyes wide with fear.

“Achilles, please!” I pleaded, my voice breaking. “Don’t hurt him.”

But Achilles was unmoved. “This is what happens when someone forgets who you belong to.”

With a swift motion, he struck Marcus across the face. The sound echoed through the courtyard, a chilling reminder of Achilles’ wrath. I flinched, tears streaming down my face.

“Let this be a lesson,” Achilles declared, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “No one speaks to Alana unless I permit it. She is mine.”

That night, I couldn’t bring myself to face him. I locked myself in my room, my mind replaying the horrific scene over and over. When Achilles finally came, I braced myself for his fury.

“Alana,” he said, his voice soft but no less dangerous. “Open the door.”

“No,” I whispered, pressing my back against the wood.

He sighed, and a moment later, I heard the sound of the lock clicking open. Of course, he had a key.

He stepped inside, his expression unreadable. “You’re upset.”

“Upset?” I repeated, my voice shaking with anger. “You humiliated Marcus… hurt him… for no reason!”

“It wasn’t for no reason,” Achilles replied calmly. “It was to protect you.”

“Protect me?” I scoffed, tears welling in my eyes. “You’re not protecting me. You’re controlling me!”

His jaw tightened, and he took a step closer. “Everything I do, Alana, is for you. Don’t you see that?”