CHAPTER 2: Trapped with the devil

Elena's POV

The ink was not yet dry, yet the chains were already constricting my throat.

My fingers shook placing the pen down, and my signature stared me back in the face like fresh blood on a contract with the devil.

Elena.

My name seemed so small for the gravity it was now bearing. A cold chill ran down my spine, squeezing the air out of my lungs.

Damien reclined at a distance, one hand draped over the signature as if staking a claim to it.

His dark eyes flicked up, connecting with mine. Smug. Calculated. Amused.

"Smart girl."

The words slithered across the air like a slow, tightening noose.

A nauseating twist of regret curled in my gut. Too late. It was already done.

Beside me, Adrian tensed. His limbs were stiff, each muscle coiled as if he was one heartbeat away from tearing the contract in two.

"You don't have to do this." His voice was low, urgent.

But I did.

My mother was dying. Now the price of her life had been established, and I had just sold my soul to pay it.

"I'm fine," I whispered. The lie seared my throat the way acid does.

Adrian's jaw tightened, his blue eyes locking on mine, but before he could say anything—

Snap.

Damien snapped the folder shut with brisk finality.

"The deal is sealed." His eyes darted to Adrian as a flicker of amusement crossed them. Enjoying his victory.

"She's mine now."

The words hit like a slap.

Adrian came forward, those fists closing. "She's not property, Damien."

Damien smirked. Slow. Cruel. One king surveying a battle he'd already won."

"She is until I say she's not."

Air vanished from my lungs.

He bent toward me, observing my face like a tiger watching a gazelle.

"Pack your things, Elena." His voice was silk-encasing steel. 

"You're coming with me."

Those words struck me like a death sentence.

I fought for breath. "What?"

He lifted a brow. "You heard me."

I did. That was the problem.

This was happening too fast. Too sudden. I had known that signing that contract meant losing my freedom, but I hadn't known I would be dragged into hell tonight.

"You didn't say it would be this fast," I gasped.

Damien got closer, elbows on the desk, his eyes bright. Enjoying this.

"Would it have made any difference?"

I hated that the answer had to be no.

Adrian exhaled sharply. "Damien, give her at least a couple of days—"

"No."

Damien's voice was a razor. Unyielding.

"The sooner she knows her place, the better."

Ice shot down my spine.

Adrian's hands twitched as if he were about to reach for me, struggle, do something, but we both knew it was no use.

Damien had already won.

He turned to the door, a dark storm cloud overspreading the room.

"Be ready in an hour."

And then, without a backward glance, he was gone.

The instant the door slammed, Adrian's hand closed around my wrist.

His grip burned. Desperate.

"Elena, listen to me—"

"I have to do this." My voice barely came out.

"No, you don't." His hold tightened. Just enough to sting, but enough to sense him. 

"Damien doesn't just take, Elena—he owns."

I knew that.

But I also knew my mother would die if I continued fighting this.

My eyes burned with tears, but I pressed them down.

I felt Adrian's fingers touch my wrist, more softly this time. 

"Please, don't let him drain you."

I forced a weak smile. A lie. A mask.

"I won't."

But as my pulse thudded in my eardrums, one thought sliced through me like a knife.

For a time, I wasn't sure if I'd even survive Damien.

As soon as the door closed behind Damien, the room felt suffocating.

Adrian's fingers dug in tight around my wrist as if he could somehow hold me there, stop me from treading into hell.

"Elena, you need not go with him." His voice was taut with desperation, his body angular with contained rage. 

You don't know what he might do."

But I did.

I had seen it in Damien's eyes—the same way a predator looks at prey he has already killed. He wasn't just taking me. He was consuming me.

My throat tightened. "I made my choice."

Adrian gasped, panting sharply, his chest elevating and lowering rapidly. His hands flexed as if he was trying to punch a hole through the wall or perhaps Damien's face. "Damien doesn't make choices, Elena. He only does ownership."

A shudder ran down my spine.

I knew Adrian was right. But it didn't matter.

Because my mother's life was in Damien's hands.

The hospital bill. The experimental treatment. All of it. The silent, ticking clock that had stolen every breath of peace I'd ever had—Damien ruled every piece of it. If I just ran, my mom would die.

And he knew it.

I swallowed hard, rendering my expression unreadable. "I can handle him."

Adrian recoiled as if I had slapped him.

Handle him? I didn't even think that myself.

"Elena…" His voice broke, and for the first time, I saw it—the raw, unguarded pain in his eyes.

Adrian never begged.

But he was begging now.

My throat went dry, but before I could say anything, something vibrated against the desk.

My eyes shot to Damien's phone, abandoned on the table.

Adrian loosened his grip just enough for me to pull away. My heart raced as I approached closer, and my pulse thudded in my ears as I glimpsed the screen.

Unknown Number.

A message preview popped up.

Target acquired.

I lost my breath in my lungs.

My fingers trembled as I brushed the notification, and I snatched the phone before I could think otherwise. The message thread opened.

There was only one other piece of text.

She's on the move. Expect arrival in 20 minutes.

My stomach twisted violently.

She?

Before I had a chance to process it, the phone got ripped from my hands.

It was Damien's scent that hit me first—something dark, expensive, entirely suffocating. 

His warmth hovered behind me, his heat pressed against my back like a brand.

I turned around, heart pounding, but he was already reading the message, his face inscrutable.

Then he smirked.

Smirked.

Like I'd walked onto the stage at a game he'd already won.

My blood ran cold.

"What did you do?" My voice came out in gasps, breathless and shaking.

He pocketed the phone with lazy arrogance. "Just wanted to make sure you're not having second thoughts."

Ice flooded my veins.

It struck me like a sledgehammer.

That message… had nothing to do with me.

It was about my mother.

My world tilted. "You son of a—"

He caught my wrist mid-swing. Fast. Effortless.

"Elena." His voice was low and velvety, but beneath it was steel. Control. "This is what obedience is."

My heart pounded in my ears. I wasn't just trapped.

I was caged.

His grip tightened—not painful, but more than enough to remind me exactly who had all the power here.

"Let's go," he murmured.

Just like that, I was doomed to my fate.