Following Nick's abrupt departure, Charlie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Then, she pulled up her knees to her chest in an attempt to cover up herself from the lingering gaze she still felt.

Her fury hadn't lessened in any way, and time-stretched. Seconds turned into minutes and into hours, and the room remained silent. Charlie could not stop thinking of everything that had happened, especially his last words before he had left.

Nick Jordan...was long gone.

What was left of him was a heartless man.

But, what could have changed him this much?

She couldn't stop thinking about Keith too. He had been shot, and they had left him there all alone. She couldn't imagine the pain he must have gone through and if he had made it out alive.

Hopefully, he did, or she would never forgive herself.

Alone, she wept.

The enemy had turned out to be Nick, and he had turned her life upside down in merely hours. But Charlie was determined to find a way out of this. Nick might still believe she's a naive, little girl, but that wasn't the case anymore.

She just had to find the right opportunity.

For now, she had to exert patience and be observant.

Just as she began to feel a bit like herself again, the subtle click of the doorknob drew her attention to the door just as it turned open, and he stood behind it again.

His expression was unreadable this time, and she watched him with apprehension and pressed her legs harder against her chest as he walked in. But this time, he simply closed the door and leaned back on it.

His gaze swept over her, taking in everything and a muscle flickered in his jaw.

"Get dressed Charlie," He said, his voice low, "There are clothes in the wardrobe,"

Charlie blinked, a little suspicious about this. Her gaze moved from him to the cuff holding her back, and she opened her mouth to speak when the cuff suddenly clicked, and it was uncuffed around her wrists.

Huh? How did that happen?

Every muscle in her body screamed in protest to defy him, but she couldn't. Not with her family's life on the line.

She warily gave him a once-over before she pushed herself off the bed and toward the wardrobe, her arms still covering her nudity. Her body ached a bit the moment she stood, but she ignored the pain.

Opening the drawer, Charlie was surprised to find feminine clothing filling it up. She snatched a sundress and flipped it over her head before she pulled the remains of the wedding dress down her legs.

Charlie faced him again, refusing to look away with her face masked with a cold fury.

"Good," Nick said, his voice calm, "Now, come with me," He added, turned the doorknob and left the room.

Charlie stood there for a few seconds, her mind thinking of ways to escape. If only she knew exactly where he was keeping her family or if Keith was still alive. For now, she had no option but to follow.

And so she did. They walked down a hallway, and Charlie soon realized they were probably inside a small mansion. Just as she thought he was about to turn a corner, he abruptly stopped.

He then turned towards the wall, a seamless panel that blended perfectly with the wall. With a barely audible click, she heard a whirring sound and the panel slid silently inward, revealing a hidden passageway.

"Come," he commanded, "There's something you need to understand,"

Nick walked into it, and she hesitantly followed. It was dimly lit, and her heart pounded against her ribcage. As she stepped in, she realized it was bigger than she had imagined.

It appeared to be an organized room. Not just any ordinary room, but a gallery, and what Charlie saw in the room made her blood run cold.

The walls were adorned, not with art but with her photos. Charlie could not remember the last time she got a photo taken by anyone other than her brother, but plastered all over the walls of the room were herself, and not just recent photos.

There was a photo of her smiling in her room with a small cake her brother had gotten for her on her sixteenth birthday. There was a blurry image of licking ice cream one time her brother had snuck out with her and bought it for her, there was another of her lying in her room, sleeping soundly, and there was another of her sitting in a bar another time she had snuck out with Keith when she had first drank alcohol and gotten a little tipsy, and there was even a faded picture of her as a little child.

These were... collections of events of her life.

Nick moved past her, walking up to a large picture of her. This one was quite recent, and it was her in the room, leaning on her window and staring outside with a longing expression in her eyes.

"Thomas has a huge debt to pay me," Nick began, his voice a low murmur, "Not only did he kill the Former Don of the Decastello Family, but he also interfered with my business and stole what was mine. He dared to steal what belonged to me, Domenico Decastello. And now," His gaze swept over her with possession, "You're the payment for his crimes,"

Charlie recoiled.

"From this moment," He continued, "Your life is simple. You obey. You do not leave this house without my permission. You do not speak of what happened today or anything you see or hear outside these walls. Your father lives as long as you comply. Your brother, as well." His eyes bore into her, cold and absolute. "Understand?"

He didn't wait for an answer; he didn't need one.

Charlie heaved, battling a sob that was making her way up. She refused to give him that satisfaction. She wasn't gonna break again so easily.

"And of course, the reason why I brought you here," He smirked this time, a terrifying mischievous gleam in his green eyes, "Your father's debt was merely a key to unlocking your cage and bringing you into mine, Princess,"

Her stomach churned.

"I've watched you ever since I left. I've watched you bloom for years, and waited for the perfect moment," His eyes met hers in the dim light, "You were always meant to be mine, Charlie. Thomas... just gave me the perfect reason,”