Sera's POV
I woke up in chains.
The metal cuff around my ankle bit into my skin as I tried to sit up. My head pounded like someone had hit me with a hammer. Everything hurt.
"She's awake," a voice said from somewhere in the darkness.
I blinked hard, trying to focus. Concrete walls. No windows. A single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The air smelled like rust and fear.
"Where am I?" My voice came out scratchy and weak.
"Safe," Alexander's voice answered from the shadows. "For now."
Memory hit me like a slap. The helicopters. The soldiers in black. Running across rooftops until something exploded behind us and knocked me out.
"Those men," I said. "The ones trying to kill us. Did they—"
"We got away," Nikolai said, stepping into the light. His blonde hair was messy and he had a cut on his cheek. "Barely."
I looked around my prison. It wasn't what I expected. Yes, I was chained to the wall by my ankle. But there was a real bed with clean sheets. A small table with water and sandwiches. Even books to read.
"You're not going to torture me?" I asked.
Valentino laughed from the doorway. "Why would we damage our investment?"
"I'm not an investment. I'm a person."
"You're collateral," Alexander said calmly. "Worth one million dollars to us. Dead, you're worth nothing."
I tested the chain around my ankle. Strong steel. About six feet long. Enough to reach the bed and table, but not the door.
"How long am I going to be here?"
"Twenty-seven days," Phoenix said quietly from a corner I hadn't seen him in. How did he move so silently?
"Twenty-seven days until what?"
"Until your father pays," Alexander said. "Or until we decide he's not coming back."
The words hit me like ice. "He's coming back. He has to."
But even as I said it, I wasn't sure I believed it. Dad had known this was coming. He'd had time to warn me, to get me somewhere safe. Instead, he'd run away and left me to face the consequences of his choices.
"Tell me about him," Nikolai said, pulling up a chair backwards and sitting down. "Your father. What's he really like?"
"Why do you care?"
"Because understanding people helps us find them," Alexander said. "The better we know Gabriel Laurent, the faster we can locate him."
I almost laughed. "Gabriel Laurent isn't even his real name."
The four men exchanged sharp looks.
"Explain," Valentino demanded.
"He changed it when I was little. Said he wanted a fresh start after Mom died. His real name is Gabriel Chen."
"Chinese?" Phoenix asked.
"Half Chinese, half something else. He never talks about his family. Never talks about the past." I stared at the chain around my ankle. "Guess I know why now."
Over the next few hours, they took turns questioning me. Not mean or scary, just persistent. They wanted to know everything about Dad. His habits, his friends, where he liked to go when he was upset.
I told them what I could, but the truth was embarrassing. I barely knew my own father. He worked late, came home tired, watched TV until he fell asleep in his chair. We ate dinner together maybe twice a week.
"He's been lying to me my whole life," I realized out loud.
"Most parents lie to protect their children," Alexander said softly.
"Did yours?"
Something dark flashed across his face. "My father told me the truth about everything. Sometimes I wish he hadn't."
That night, they left me alone with my thoughts and a growing anger that felt like fire in my chest. Dad wasn't just a bad gambler. He was a coward who'd let his daughter pay for his mistakes.
I tested the chain again. Still strong. But the bolt holding it to the wall looked old. Rusty. Maybe if I worked at it long enough...
"Don't even think about it," Phoenix's voice came from the darkness beyond the light.
I jumped. "I didn't hear you come in."
"You're not supposed to."
He stepped into the light, and I got my first real look at him. Younger than I'd thought. Maybe late twenties. Dark hair, dark eyes. Handsome in a dangerous way that made smart girls do stupid things.
"Why are you watching me?" I asked.
"Because you're planning something."
"How do you know?"
"Because that's what I would do."
We stared at each other for a long moment. He was right. I was planning something. The hairpin holding back my hair would work on the handcuff lock. I'd seen it in movies. How hard could it be?
"You won't make it past the door," Phoenix said, like he was reading my mind.
"Maybe. Maybe not."
"There are twelve armed men between here and the street. Cameras everywhere. Motion sensors. Guard dogs."
My heart sank. "Oh."
"Even if you got outside, where would you go? Your apartment isn't safe. Your shop is destroyed. The police can't protect you from whoever tried to kill us today."
He was right, and I hated him for it.
"So I'm stuck here forever?"
"Until your father comes back."
"What if he doesn't?"
Phoenix was quiet for a long time. "Then we'll figure something else out."
"Like what?"
"I don't know yet."
The next morning, Alexander brought me breakfast and newspapers. I read about a "gas explosion" that destroyed three buildings downtown. No mention of helicopters or soldiers in black.
"They covered it up," I said.
"They're good at that," Alexander replied.
"Who are they?"
"We're working on finding out."
That afternoon, Nikolai played cards with me and told jokes that weren't funny. Valentino brought me books and barely spoke. Phoenix just watched from the shadows.
By the third day, I had a plan.
I'd been practicing with my hairpin every night, working the lock on my handcuff until I could open it in under thirty seconds. The cameras had blind spots. The guards got lazy during shift changes.
Tonight was my chance.
At two in the morning, I slipped the cuff off my ankle and crept toward the door. My heart hammered so loud I was sure everyone could hear it.
The hallway was empty. Dark. I moved like Phoenix had taught me without meaning to—quiet, careful, staying close to the walls.
The exit was fifty feet away. Freedom. Safety. A chance to find Dad myself and make him fix this mess.
Forty feet. Thirty. Twenty.
I was going to make it.
"Going somewhere?"
I spun around, my heart stopping.
Phoenix stood in the shadows behind me, arms crossed. He'd been following me the whole time.
"How did you—"
"I've been awake since you started picking the lock," he said quietly. "Wanted to see how far you'd get."
"Please," I whispered. "Just let me go. I won't tell anyone where you are."
"Can't do that."
"Why not?"
He stepped closer, and I could see something strange in his dark eyes. Almost like... respect?
"Because," he said softly, "someone just sent your father's finger to Alexander."
The world tilted sideways. "What?"
"Cut off clean. Along with a note."
My legs gave out. I hit the concrete floor hard, but I barely felt it.
"What did the note say?"
Phoenix's face was grim in the darkness.
"It said if we don't kill you by tomorrow night, they'll send the rest of him back piece by piece."