NOVA
A bird that once soared in freedom now sits quietly in a cage—not because it was caught, but because it walked into it… blindly, foolishly. And now, it trembles on the verge of breaking down.
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I sat on the edge of the massive bed they'd thrown me into. My body ached in places I didn't even know could hurt. The bruises, the chaos, the kidnapping—was all of it real?
Everything felt like a movie I didn't sign up to be in.
"This room feels so cold. So fucking cold…" I whispered, curling my arms around my knees. My voice shook, and tears pooled in my eyes no matter how hard I blinked them away.
I wasn't sure if the tears were from pain or regret. Probably both.
I was Nova Valleria. An ethical hacker. A woman who once believed she was untouchable because she worked by the rules. I believed good things would come to good people.
God, how naïve.
I regretted every decision I had made, but none more than the one I made today—the one that led me here, to this gilded prison, under the control of that cruel, arrogant bastard... Julius Ruvanov.
Will I ever escape this? Or is this it? Is this where my story ends?
I stood slowly, my legs weak but functioning. The room around me was grand—twice the size of my entire apartment. There was a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, gold-framed artwork on the walls, and velvet curtains drawn to the side of tall, towering windows.
Windows.
I hurried over to them, limping a little as the pain in my side flared. I peered outside and gasped softly.
We were high up—too high to jump. But not impossibly high. The ground was far, yes, but if I tied enough blankets together…
Could I make it?
Before I could think more, I heard the heavy click of the lock behind me. My heartbeat sped up instantly.
"Who is it?" I asked, my voice laced with fear, despite trying to sound firm.
The door creaked open, and in walked that same man—the one who stood beside Julius earlier. Calm, emotionless, stiff like he'd been carved from stone.
"Miss Valleria, these are the items you might need. Clean clothes. Water. And ointment for your injuries."
He placed the tray on a nearby table.
"I need my phone," I said, seizing the chance. "Please… I need to call my mom. Just once. She'll be worried."
He didn't even blink. "You can't have your phone back. But there's a telephone downstairs. If you need to make a call, ask any of the guards to escort you."
At least that's something…
But then he turned back at the door, pausing as if to remember something.
His next words weren't instructions—they were a warning.
"If you try anything foolish... if you even think of telling your family what's happening here…" He turned slightly, meeting my eyes with an unsettling calm. "They will face the consequences of your stupidity."
My stomach twisted. The color drained from my face. There was no threat in his tone—just the cold, solid truth. And that made it even scarier.
And just like that, he left, locking the door again.
I didn't move for a full minute. I just stood there, staring at the space where he had been.
Then, slowly, I sank to the floor.
I stared at the ceiling.
Because right now, that was the only thing I could do.
There was too much going on inside my head. Too many questions. Too many fears. And an overwhelming sense of helplessness I couldn't shake.
I took a deep breath. Then another.
"Okay," I said quietly, wiping my tears away. "This is what we've got ourselves into, Nova. You walked right into the lion's den. And now you have to get out."
Running was not an option. Not yet.
Crying wasn't going to solve anything.
I needed to survive this first. Then think. Then escape.
But first—I had to clean my wounds.
I pulled myself up again and walked toward the tray. The clothes were simple but elegant. A plain black T-shirt and soft cotton pants. The ointment stung when I applied it to the gash near my ribs, but I bit my lip and bore it.
"I won't give up," I told my reflection in the mirror across the room. "I don't care if he's the devil dressed in a CEO suit. I'm Nova Valleria. I will get out of this."
But deep down, I still couldn't forget what Julius had said.
"You're in my world now."
What kind of world was this?
One where people bowed to him. One where rules didn't exist. One where I—someone who fought for justice—was now a prisoner.
No, not just a prisoner. I was his prisoner.
And he seemed to enjoy every moment of it.