The guards grabbed her arms, dragging her out of the office.
She didn't struggle this time. Didn't fight. Didn't speak.
But her eyes… her eyes stayed on him.
On the man in black.
The moment the door slammed shut behind her, the silence in the office thickened.
The warden let out a shaky breath, wiping sweat off his forehead.
"Whoa, she is scary, just like the rumours"
Then he turned to the man.
"What will you with her, Boss?" He asked.
The man in black didn't move, didn't blink. His gaze remained fixed on the door Daisy had just been dragged through.
Emilio Ramirez face had frozen when his had locked with her when she was dragged into the room.
It was her.
He couldn't forget that face.
His memory went back to a year ago, at that gala, she had been the kind of girl people remembered: polite, smiling, untouchable. But that version of her no longer existed.
Now, she stood there like a predator in a cage of men and lights, her posture precise, her every movement deliberate.
The softness and elegance he once remembered was gone, replaced by a calculated coldness that made him unconsciously step back.
Her lips curved slightly a smile, not a greeting just a hint of something dangerous, like she knew more than she should and enjoyed the fact.
Emilio's pulse quickened, not with attraction, exactly, but with the awareness that she was no longer a girl to charm.
She was a force. And he knew that forces do not bend easily.
He didn't understand what had happened. One year. That was all it took to turn the woman he once admired into something… unreadable.
And yet, he wanted to find out.
He got out and walked to the door, the warden stood up to follow him.
"Stay here" he ordered.
"Yes Boss, but be careful. I have heard so many stories about her" the warden said.
Emilio almost laughed out loud.
If she was dangerous...
What did that make him?
He made his way to the torture room. His men stood outside.
"Leave" he ordered when he approached them.
They left without hesitation and Emilio pushed the door and went in.
The girl sat in a chair at the center of the room, wrists and ankles bound.
A cloth covered her mouth.
Emilio walked closer to her.
He went behind her and removed it and then dragged a chair across the room and sat in front of her.
"What is this? Why am I here?" Her voice came out hoarse but steady.
"If this is because of what happened then allow me to apologize. Why are you—"
"Stop"
The single word cut through the air like a knife.
She went silent.
Emilio leaned back in his chair, studying her like she was a puzzle he couldn't quite solve.
Up close, he could still see traces of that girl from a year ago—the soft curve of her face, the familiar eyes. But something deeper had changed.
Those eyes…
They weren't soft anymore.
They were cold. Calculating.
Dangerous.
"Apologize?" he repeated slowly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "I heard that you don't apologize. Ever."
She didn't respond immediately. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, as if considering him.
Then, to his surprise—
She smiled.
Not nervously.
Not politely.
But like someone who knew something he didn't.
"You heard right," she said quietly.
"So what now? You brought me here to torture me to death?"
A pause.
"That must be one of your hobbies, am I right?"
The air in the room shifted.
Emilio's smirk faded.
That wasn't fear and he knew it.
A brief silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.
Then Emilio leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Do you know how many people are afraid of you?" he asked.
She shrugged, "Isn't it better to be feared than loved ?"
That did it.
A low chuckle escaped him, dark and amused.
"Good," he said. "I was worried the rumors were exaggerated."
Her smile widened just a fraction.
"Trust me," she said softly, "they're not."
"I'm glad they aren't.," he said.
Silence followed, but this time it felt different.
He wasn't studying her anymore.
He was assessing her.
"Tell me," Emilio continued, his voice quieter now, more deliberate.
"What crime did you commit to be here and What exactly did you do to earn that reputation?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she leaned back as much as the restraints allowed, her gaze never leaving his.
"Does it matter?" she asked.
"It does to me."
A pause.
Then—
"You're not the type to believe rumors," she said. "You're the type to verify them."
A slow smile crept onto his face.
"Exactly."
Another stretch of silence.
Heavy.
Measured.
Then Emilio stood up.
He began to circle her slowly.
"Do you know what happens to people like you in places like this?" he asked.
She didn't respond.
"They either break…" he continued, stopping right in front of her,
"…or they get used."
Her lips curved slightly.
"And which one do you think I am?"
Emilio bent down, bringing himself to her level.
"Neither," he said quietly.
"You're wasted here." he continued.
"No, I am not"
She wasn't listening.
Didn't even pretend to.
"I don't like wasting resources," he added, straightening.
Her eyes narrowed just a fraction. "Resources?, Please get to the point."
A small chuckle left him.
Straightforward.
Good.
"I can get you out of here," he said.
A chuckle escaped her lips.
"That's wasn't what I was expecting" she said.
"In exchange…" he continued, like he didn't hear what she said.
"You work for me."
"And I will give you all the power you want"
"You survived prison, you controlled it, made it your territory. Imagine what you would do with real power outside of here"
"You will be unstoppable"
Silence.
Real silence this time.
Then she smiled again.
Slow.
Dangerous.
"And if I say no?" she asked.
Emilio's expression didn't change.
"You won't"
"I will make sure of it"
That confidence.
That certainty.
It should be illegal.
Her eyes held his for a long moment.
"What do you really want from me, Mister?" She asked still holding his eyes.
A smirk curved onto Emilio's face, "Everything" he replied slowly.