Chapter 3
Sofia's POV
I lay sprawled on the cold floor, each breath feeling like knives stirring in my lungs.
Only my pained gasping echoed in the dim hallway. Through the door crack, I could see Tony sitting in the surveillance room, holding something in his hands.
A pocket watch. Silver, gleaming faintly in the screen's light.
His expression... DAMN, this wasn't the cold Tony I knew. There was something in his eyes I'd never seen before—pain? Longing?
Maybe this was an opportunity. Finding this iceberg's weakness.
I forced myself through the agony in my ribs, struggling to crawl to the door.
"Tony?" My voice was hoarse. "What are you looking at?"
He immediately snapped the watch shut and turned toward the door. That cold mask instantly slipped back on.
"You should be resting."
I gritted my teeth, trying to make my voice sound casual. "Can't sleep. Hurts like hell." I paused. "That watch... looks special. From family?"
Tony's shoulders tensed. I saw his fingers tap the table twice—first time I'd ever seen him show signs of unease.
"Irrelevant."
"I have my grandmother's ring," I continued probing. "Only thing left... family memento. Sometimes looking at it makes me feel less alone. Your family..."
His eyes instantly turned dangerous. SHIT!
"I said mind your own business." He stood, chair scraping harshly. "Get back and lie down. Don't make me say it twice."
FUCK. I'd tried connecting through family talk but hit a landmine instead. Tony walked toward the door, expressionless.
I quickly crawled back and pretended to sleep, but I'd seen it. Just for an instant, the pain in his eyes was real.
This cold-blooded machine had a heart. Question was, how could I use it?
Next morning, a guard dragged me back to the girls' dormitory.
"Boss says you can come back," he roughly threw me on the bed. "But if you screw up again... you know the consequences."
I knew the rest. These animals always loved emphasizing their point with violence.
The door slammed shut, leaving me with a dozen other girls. This place was like prison—barred windows, locked doors, cameras everywhere like demon eyes watching us.
"Sofia! God, you're alive!" A redhead rushed over, carefully checking my wounds. Jessica, twenty years old from Texas.
"You look like you got hit by a truck," another girl named Lily said. "You need antibiotics."
I shook my head weakly. "I'm fine."
Fine my ass. My back burned, ribs probably cracked, but I was alive. In this hell, staying alive was victory.
Over the next few days, I seriously studied this damned place. I needed to find a way out, even if just a sliver of hope.
Guards rotated every six hours. Tony handled night shift, four other guards took turns. Cameras covered all main passages, but the storage room had a blind spot. Three exits, all with electronic locks.
I had to escape. I couldn't wait here to die.
First attempt: ventilation shaft.
DAMN, I underestimated my size. Got stuck immediately after crawling in. Metal duct pressed against my chest, nearly suffocating me. Luckily Lily pulled me out in time, or I'd be the first idiot to die in a ventilation shaft.
Second attempt: laundry cart.
I hid under dirty sheets, enduring sweat stench and other disgusting smells. Got searched at the gate. A guard poked around with a stick, nearly gouging my eye out. I held my breath playing dead, almost actually dying.
Each failure made me more desperate. This was an airtight prison, and we were inmates who'd never escape.
Until I encountered Marcus.
Fourth escape attempt. I snuck into the storage room during lunch break, searching for possible escape routes. This was the camera blind spot, but also the most dangerous place.
Suddenly heard footsteps. My heart nearly stopped. SHIT, I was screwed.
"I know someone's in here," Marcus's voice came, carrying that sickening excitement. "Come out, baby. Don't make me look."
FUCK. Being caught by Marcus meant certain death. This pervert wouldn't miss any chance to torture me.
I took a deep breath, fixed my hair, unbuttoned my shirt's top two buttons, showing some cleavage.
Disgusting, but this was my only weapon.
"Marcus?" I called in my sexiest voice, slowly emerging from behind the shelves, deliberately pushing out my chest.
His eyes immediately locked onto my breasts, tongue licking his lips. "What the FUCK are you doing here?"
"Couldn't sleep," I slowly approached him, letting my shirt slip off my shoulder, exposing more skin. "Wanted some... excitement."
Marcus's breathing quickened. "You know Boss's rules..."
"Boss isn't here," I whispered, walking up to him, forcing myself to trace his chest with my finger despite the nausea. "And... I really need someone to... comfort me."
His rough hand reached for my waist. I forced myself not to recoil. When his dirty hand touched my breast, I nearly vomited but still acted like I enjoyed it.
Disgusting, disgusting, DISGUSTING! But I had to keep performing.
"DAMN little bitch..." Marcus panted, starting to unbuckle his belt, eyes gleaming with perverse light.
SHIT, things were spiraling out of control. I needed to escape fast.
"Wait," I stepped back, eyes panicked. "I'm... on my period. Heavy flow. Maybe we could wait a few days? Or... you want me to use my mouth?"
I hated myself. To survive, I'd do anything disgusting.
Marcus's face instantly twisted from lust to rage. "You lying BITCH!"
SLAP!
He backhanded me so hard I nearly fell. My cheek immediately swelled, ears ringing.
"Think I'm stupid?" Marcus grabbed my hair, dragging me toward the wall. "Since you want excitement so bad, I'll give you some REAL excitement!"
He started tearing my clothes, buttons flying as I struggled desperately. "NO! Please!"
His hand roughly grabbed my breast, nails digging into skin. I screamed in pain. Just as he prepared to go further, Tony's voice suddenly came from outside:
"Marcus, emergency assignment. Boss wants to see you."
Marcus stopped, face full of frustration. "FUCK!"
He straightened his clothes, threatening before leaving, "Next time, baby, no one will interrupt. I'll make sure of it."
The door slammed shut. I leaned against the wall, gasping heavily, trembling all over.
A week later, I was assigned a new mission.
Target was a real estate mogul staying in Bellagio's presidential suite. My task: make him lose three million on an investment.
"Remember," Viktor warned before I left, "no more mistakes this time."
I nodded, but my mind was planning something else.
Hotel. With staff, guests, normal people. This was my chance, maybe my only chance.
The mission went smoothly. The mogul was a typical middle-aged man—lonely, craving young female attention. I got him to sign the contract in two hours, stroking his thigh back and forth until he completely lost his mind.
While he went to the bathroom, I secretly slipped a note to the front desk.
"Please help me. I'm controlled by a human trafficking ring. Please call police. Contact FBI. Room 1205."
I thought I'd finally found a way out. I thought someone would save me.
But I was wrong.
Two hours later, back at the dormitory, Viktor's phone rang.
I watched through the door crack as he answered, his face growing darker.
"What? Someone tried calling for help?" He laughed coldly. "Find the snitch. Make an example of anyone who tries to betray us."
My blood instantly turned to ice.
FUCK! They found out!