Chapter 239: Iron fist

"...and then he cracked him right on the head! You can’t imagine how much blood there was, and all he did was throw a basketball at him!" Kyle shouted out, immediately choking on a French fry he had tossed into the air to catch with his mouth.

Carefree, friendly laughter broke out around the table, but I just sat there, picking aimlessly with my fork at cold rice and something that no longer resembled a meatball. The unappetizing mush on the white plastic tray killed whatever tiny desire I had to swallow even a single bite.

Listening to the surrounding banter, I felt like a ghost trapped between two worlds. These students were casually gossiping about stupid old fights and class grades, completely oblivious to what real danger looked like.

Pushing my tray further away, I noticed Rita shift her worried gaze from the coughing Kyle over to me, her brow furrowing even deeper.

For two lectures in a row, she had been trying to dig out the real reason behind my foul mood, but I couldn’t tell her anything. I didn’t even have the right to hint at it. What was I supposed to say? "Sorry, but your local untouchable god—the one you all worship—literally kidnapped me, locked me in his apartment, and is forcing me to serve his bloated ego?"

They would laugh in my face first, taking me for a crazy daydreamer, and then, out of sheer curiosity, ask for the address so they could swap places with me and relieve me of my heavy burden.

They had no idea who Damian Rainn truly was. But if I spoke up, I would never save my parents—my big mouth would cost them their lives.

"Are you okay? You look so pale today," Rita murmured, sliding closer and wrapping a sympathetic arm around my shoulders.

"Yeah, I just didn’t get enough sleep," I said quietly, pulling back slightly from her embrace and keeping my eyes turned away.

I felt exceptionally terrible that day. My whole body ached as if my skin had been scrubbed raw with coarse sandpaper, and every accidental touch irritated my suddenly hypersensitive nerves.

It was probably all due to the overwhelming stress and lack of sleep. Maybe hunger was playing a part, too—though food was the last thing I wanted, as the mere thought of eating sent a wave of nausea through me.

The entire night passed in paralyzing terror. After that harrowing encounter in his room, I sat huddled in the far corner until dawn, staring unblinkingly at the locked door and flinching at every tiny rustle in the apartment. It constantly felt as though he wasn’t sleeping either. Why? I didn’t know, but the persistent, primal sensation that Damian was pacing like a predatory beast in his bedroom right behind my wall never left me for a single second.

It seemed I could hear his heavy footsteps and catch his ragged breathing. I could feel his hungry, possessive gaze piercing straight through the wall.

It was madness, of course. Why on earth wouldn’t he sleep? A ruthless monster like him didn’t care about anything, let alone the fact that he had driven me to nervous tremors—pushed me right to the absolute edge. I could have called it panic, but I saved the dramatic words, because deep down my instincts warned me he was capable of something far worse.

Men like Damian Rainn were utterly unhinged, empathy-free predators who genuinely believed someone like me wasn’t worthy of normal human treatment. To him, I was merely a trophy, a captive debtor, a plaything he claimed just to break his own cold boredom.

Unable to force down even a single spoonful of food, I stood up, grabbed my tray, and cast a random glance toward the distant VIP table where Damian and Matthias sat. As I had gathered from classmates’ hushed gossip, that blonde guy was his younger brother, and rumor had it they sometimes pulled things that students feared to speak of even in whispers. The Rainn brothers ruled this place with an iron fist.

For a fleeting second, it felt as though the blonde guy was looking right at me through the crowd, but it was likely just my overactive, paranoid imagination.

He was casually chatting with his brother about something trivial, paying attention to nothing else, while Damian sat half-turned, lazily spinning his phone between his long fingers. Just the sight of his broad back clad in a dark shirt sent a prickling, electric chill cascading down my spine.

Quickly fleeing the noisy cafeteria, I made my way to an empty lecture hall and began preparing for classes, desiring only one thing—to hide from prying eyes. After the third lecture, I tried calling my parents again, retreating to the far end of the corridor.

Hearing the exact same dead voicemail greeting as yesterday, I sat through the final class without grasping a single word of the professor’s lecture, scratching meaningless lines across the margins of my notebook and snapping the pencil lead under my mounting tension.

"Amelie, are you coming with us?"

Rita walked up to my desk and gently touched my shoulder.

"No, I’m heading out to apply for a part-time job today, so count me out for tonight," I spoke quickly, pulling my phone from my bag to check the screen for any text notifications from my carrier.

What if my parents had cell service again? What if they had managed to turn their phone on for even a single second just to send me a sign? The screen remained stubbornly blank, shattering those pathetic slivers of hope.

"Oh, got it, no problem then. Tell me tomorrow where you went and how it went!" Nodding, Rita quickly departed, merging into the flowing stream of students and leaving me entirely alone in the emptying lecture hall.

In truth, I wasn’t going to apply for any job. I owed Damian an exorbitant sum of money and was bound to labor like a common servant from dawn to dusk. So I simply sat there, waiting submissively for him to text me that I could head down to the parking lot.

Naturally, I couldn’t get into his home on my own. I had neither his exact address nor the keys. Even if by some miracle I had possessed them, the security checkpoint at the entrance would never have let me pass—in their elite world, I was a total nobody.

The waiting was agonizing, slowly draining the life out of me. I felt like an obedient hound awaiting its master’s command. At that bitter thought, a lump of resentment rose in my throat, choking off my air, but I swallowed it down and forced my breathing to stay steady. I stood zero chance of escape as long as my mother and father remained trapped in the hands of his pack.

But I would never forget. Sooner or later, he would regret everything he forced me to endure.