Chapter 3 Survival

Avery I didn't know how long they kept me in that room-just that it smelled like expensive cologne, roses, and danger. Everything was too polished, too controlled. It didn't feel like a home. It felt like a palace for a predator. And I was the offering. When the guards finally came for me again, I didn't resist. My wrists were red and sore, but at least they weren't tied anymore. I kept my head high, shoulders straight, even though my knees were shaking. They led me through a corridor that looked like it belonged in some five-star hotel-not a mafia lord's lair. Gold-framed art.

Floor-to-ceiling mirrors. Marble so shiny I could see the reflection of my fear in every step. I was expecting Zamian. Dreading him, really. But instead, they led me into a room where I heard a voice I hadn't expected to hear again. "Please, I'm begging you. She's just a girl. Let her go. Take me instead-" My breath caught in my throat. Dad. He was on his knees, palms outstretched like a man praying to a god who'd already made up his mind. My feet moved on instinct. "Dad!" I rushed forward. Two men stepped to block me, but I didn't care. My voice broke as I looked at him-messy hair, sunken eyes, pain written all over his face. He turned at the sound of my voice. "Avery-oh God." His arms opened. I nearly collapsed into them. We held each other like we hadn't in years. But even in that moment, I could feel Zamian watching us-silent, still, and cold. Dad pulled away just enough to cup my face. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" I shook my head. "No. Not yet." "You shouldn't be here," he whispered. "This is my fault. I should've-" "You shouldn't have made deals with men like him," I said flatly, then looked past him at Zamian, who stood with his hands folded, calm as a storm before it breaks. I stepped out from behind my dad and faced Zamian. I didn't know where the courage came from. Maybe it was adrenaline. Maybe it was love. Or maybe it was fury. But I stood tall. And I looked him dead in the eyes. "You want someone to pay? Fine. But take me, not him." Dad gasped. "Avery, no!" "You'll die in this world," I snapped at him. "You're too soft. Too guilt-ridden. And too broke to fix this mess. Let me handle it." I turned to Zamian again. "Let him go. I'll stay." Zamian raised an eyebrow. Amused. Intrigued. That infuriating glint in his eyes. "You came in here ready to barter yourself?" he asked, his voice smooth and sharp like a razor wrapped in silk. "I came here to survive," I said. "And to give my dad a chance to fix the mess he made." Zamian stepped forward slowly, eyes never leaving mine. "You think you can survive me?" "I don't think," I said, my jaw clenched. "I know." He stopped just a few inches away. The heat from his body, the scent of him-dark, commanding-surrounded me. "You remember me now, don't you?" he murmured. "The dock. The bump. The insult." "Yes," I said without flinching. "And yet, here you are. Offering yourself up like a lamb." His lips curled into something between a smirk and a snarl. "Interesting." Behind me, my dad was still pleading. "Please, Zamian-take me. I'll work for you. I'll pay you back every cent." Zamian didn't even glance his way. "She stays," he said simply. "No!" Dad tried to move forward, but the guards held him back. "She stays," Zamian repeated, this time turning toward him. "You had your chance, Mr. Coleman. You gave her up. You don't get to change your mind now." "I didn't know what you'd do to her-" "You knew exactly what it meant!" Zamian's voice snapped like thunder, sharp and final. "You don't gamble with your blood and expect to win." I stepped between them again. "Dad, go," I said firmly. His eyes were glassy, his voice shaking. "Avery, I can't-" "You can," I said, softer now. "You have to. You can't protect me in here. But you can fix this out there. Find the money. Pay it back. Get me out." He hesitated. "I'll be okay," I whispered, more to convince him than myself. After a long silence, he finally nodded, his shoulders sagging like a man who'd aged twenty years in twenty minutes. Zamian gave the nod. The guards began to escort Mr. Coleman out. As he passed, he turned one last time, eyes begging me to say something. I only nodded once, fiercely. We both knew if I said anything more, I might break. Then he was gone. The door shut behind him. And I was alone again with Zamian. For a moment, there was only silence. Then he stepped forward. "You surprised me," he said quietly. I lifted my chin. "I'm full of surprises." He tilted his head slightly, studying me. "You know most girls in your situation cry. Scream. Beg." "I'm not most girls." "No," he agreed. "You're not." A long pause settled between us. Then he walked past me toward the window, hands clasped behind his back like a king overlooking his empire. "You want to play tough?" he said. "Fine. But remember this-your survival depends on how well you learn the rules here." "I'll learn them," I said without hesitation. He turned back to me. "You're mine now, Avery. Not temporarily. Not conditionally. You live by my terms. You breathe by my grace. Do you understand that?" I swallowed the knot rising in my throat. "I understand." His eyes lingered on me a moment longer. Then he walked toward the door and paused. "Get her settled," he ordered someone outside. "She's going to be here a while." And then he was gone. The moment the door clicked shut, I exhaled for the first time in what felt like forever. My knees buckled, but I forced myself to stay upright. I'd just made a deal with the devil. And now, I had to survive the fire.