Chapter 2 Chapter 2

Lisa’s POV

Damien’s words echoed in my ears. “You’ll find Claudia for me. And until you do, you’re mine.”

I stared at him, my mind spinning. None of this felt real. How did my life go from struggling to pay rent to being dragged into the world of the mafia? How did I go from being a nobody to being owned by Damien Paulo?

“I don’t even know where Claudia is,” I said, my voice trembling. “We weren’t friends. She was just a client.”

Damien’s sharp gray eyes studied me like he was deciding whether or not to believe me. “You’re lying,” he said simply.

My jaw dropped. “I’m not lying! I swear! I don’t know anything about her personal life.”

“Then you’d better start remembering,” Damien said, his tone cold and final.

I felt tears prickling at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them back. Crying in front of this man wouldn’t help me. He didn’t seem like the type to care about tears.

“You don’t understand,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I don’t know anything about Claudia. She came to me, asked for a dress alteration, and that’s it. I didn’t even know the dress had anything hidden in it!”

Damien took a step closer, and I instinctively backed up until my heels bumped against the wall. “Lisa,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “you’re either incredibly stupid, or you think I am. Either way, you’re not leaving until Claudia is found.”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “What are you going to do to me?” I whispered.

“Depends on how useful you are,” Damien replied, his smirk returning. “If you help me, we won’t have any problems. If you don’t… well, let’s just say you won’t like the alternative.”

His words sent a chill down my spine. I felt trapped, like a bird in a cage. There was no way out of this.

Damien turned to the two men in suits who had been standing silently in the background. “Take her back to the house,” he said. “She’ll stay there until we get what we need.”

“Yes, boss,” one of the men replied.

“Wait!” I blurted out, panic rising in my chest. “You can’t just take me! I have a life! I have work, rent—”

Damien cut me off with a sharp look. “Not anymore,” he said. “Your life now belongs to me.”

The ride to Damien’s house was silent, except for the sound of the car’s engine. I sat in the back seat, sandwiched between the two men in suits. They didn’t talk or even look at me, but their presence was intimidating enough.

I stared out the window, trying to make sense of everything. How had my life turned into this? Less than twenty-four hours ago, my biggest problem was figuring out how to pay rent. Now, I was being taken to a mafia lord’s house because of a crime I didn’t even know I committed.

The city lights blurred as the car sped through the streets. I thought about jumping out and running, but where would I go? Damien had made it clear that escaping wasn’t an option.

After what felt like forever, the car pulled up to a massive iron gate. The gate opened slowly, revealing a long driveway lined with tall trees. At the end of the driveway stood a mansion so large it looked more like a palace.

The car stopped in front of the mansion, and one of the men opened the door for me. “Out,” he said curtly.

I stepped out of the car, my legs shaky. The mansion loomed over me, its grand pillars and intricate architecture making me feel even smaller than I already did.

Damien stepped out of another car and walked over to me. “Welcome to your new home,” he said with a smirk.

“This isn’t my home,” I snapped before I could stop myself.

Damien’s smirk disappeared, and his eyes narrowed. “You’ll learn,” he said coldly. “Follow me.”

I hesitated, but one of the men behind me nudged me forward. Reluctantly, I followed Damien into the mansion.

The inside was even more extravagant than the outside. The floors were made of shiny marble, and the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling sparkled like diamonds. Expensive paintings and sculptures decorated every corner, and the air smelled faintly of roses and leather.

But despite the beauty, the place felt cold. There was no warmth, no sign of life. It was like walking into a museum rather than a home.

Damien led me down a long hallway until we reached a large room. It had a bed bigger than my entire apartment, a sitting area with plush chairs, and a balcony that overlooked a garden.

“You’ll stay here,” Damien said.

I stared at him, disbelief written all over my face. “You’re keeping me prisoner?”

“Think of it as protective custody,” Damien replied with a shrug.

“Protective custody?” I repeated, my voice rising. “Protecting me from what? You’re the only danger here!”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he turned to leave. “Get some rest,” he said over his shoulder. “We have work to do tomorrow.”

The door closed behind him, and I was left standing in the middle of the room, feeling more helpless than ever.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of someone knocking on the door. I sat up, my heart racing. “Who is it?” I called out.

The door opened, and a woman walked in carrying a tray of food. She looked to be in her late thirties, with kind eyes and a soft smile.

“Good morning,” she said gently. “Mr. Paulo asked me to bring you breakfast.”

I stared at her, unsure of what to say. She placed the tray on the table near the window and turned back to me.

“You should eat,” she said. “You’ll need your strength.”

Before I could respond, she left the room, closing the door behind her. I looked at the tray of food—eggs, toast, and a cup of coffee. My stomach growled, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat.

I spent the day pacing the room, my mind racing. How was I supposed to find Claudia? I didn’t know where she lived or who she associated with. I didn’t even have her phone number.

By the time Damien returned that evening, I was a mess. I hadn’t eaten, and I hadn’t stopped panicking. When the door opened and he walked in, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I can’t do this,” I said, my voice shaking. “I don’t know where Claudia is!”

Damien raised an eyebrow. “You’ll figure it out,” he said simply.

“I can’t!” I insisted. “I don’t know anything about her!”

“Then you’d better start thinking,” he said, his tone sharp.

“I don’t even have a way to contact her!” I cried.

Damien smirked, pulling out a folder from behind his back. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said.

He tossed the folder onto the table. I looked at it, then back at him. “What is this?”

“Claudia’s phone records,” Damien said. “She’s been calling someone regularly. We start there.”

I opened the folder and stared at the list of numbers. My heart sank. This wasn’t going to be easy.

Damien leaned closer, his gray eyes locking onto mine. “You’re in this now, Lisa,” he said softly. “And trust me, there’s no way out.”