The BDSM Room

Lydia's POV

"Tariq..." I smiled.

My tired eyes caught the familiar, handsome features of my college friend. He stood there on the chilly sidewalk, his dark hair slightly windblown, holding a small paper bag. He looked just like the sweet, caring guy I had harbored a secret crush on for years. He possessed that typical Turkish look—tall, broad-shouldered, with warm, expressive eyes that always made me feel safe.

He used to help me with my studies back in college. His gentleness always made my heart flutter. I had planned to confess my feelings to him after graduation, but then my life fell apart. The debt piled up. The threats started. And before I knew it, I was sold into a nightmare.

I had been intentionally avoiding him recently. The shame of my current reality burned hot in my chest. How could I face him? I was sleeping with a ruthless mafia boss for money. I was trapped in a dark, suffocating mess that a normal, good person like Tariq could never comprehend.

"Lydia," his charming smile surfaced as he stepped closer. "You seem to be very busy nowadays. No calls, no messages, and no meetings."

I shifted my weight on the pavement, desperately searching for an excuse. "Sorry. I got a new job recently. It takes up a lot of time."

His face fell into a slight, playful pout. "I am feeling sad because my best friend is ignoring me. We haven't chatted for almost four months, and I miss her."

My stomach twisted with guilt. I forced a nervous laugh. "Tariq... I am sorry. I didn't mean to ignore you. I was just busy."

"No problem," he cut in smoothly. "Let's have lunch together. It's been too long, and it's Sunday. You must be free."

"No, Tariq, I really should head home—"

Before I could firmly decline, he threw his arm around my shoulder, casual and warm, just like he used to do. He guided me toward his car parked at the curb. "Come on. A few hours won't hurt anything. I know you work hard, but you shouldn't ignore your social life. We have a lot to talk about."

He opened the passenger door and gently pushed me inside.

Panic gnawed at my stomach as I stared at the dashboard. Mr. Vargas had given me one strict, unbreakable rule the day I signed my life away to the Castello family. I was forbidden from hanging out with other men. No friends. No dates. Nothing.

"Tariq, can we do it some other time, please?" I asked. My hands shook in my lap. I did not know why, but a deep sense of dread washed over me.

He slid into the driver's seat and chuckled. "Relax, Lydia."

Looking into his kind eyes, I could not bring myself to hurt him by running away. I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. I just had to pray no one from the mafia saw us. I told myself it would only be an hour. After a quick meal, I would make an excuse and hurry back to my apartment.

Tariq pulled up to an upscale, bright restaurant downtown. The valet opened the doors for us.

"Tariq, this looks really expensive," I whispered, hesitating at the glass entrance. We both relied on student loans back in the day. We used to pool our spare change just to buy cheap street food.

"Don't worry about the prices, Lydia. I am working a good job now. I have money," he laughed, placing a gentle hand on my back. "We won't be washing dishes to pay the bill. Please, just relax."

I released a deep sigh and let him guide me to a table near the center of the dining room. The waiter handed us leather-bound menus.

"Lydia, you look stressed," Tariq noted as he browsed the menu. "You are not talking freely like before. Is everything okay?"

"I am fine," I lied, staring at my lap. "It is just because of the heavy workload."

He nodded in understanding and ordered our meals. I tried to focus on his voice, but an eerie sensation prickled the back of my neck. I felt exposed. It felt like someone was watching me from the shadows.

"So, where are you working?" he asked, taking a sip of water.

"Vanguard Co. Ltd," I mumbled the fake cover story I had practiced for nosy neighbors.

"Oh, very good. Now I can understand the workload. I actually tried applying for that company, but I couldn't pass the interview. You are lucky."

He smiled warmly. He had no idea what my real job was. He had no idea what I did in the dark to survive.

I ate my food fast, eager to finish the meal and leave. The sooner I got back to my dingy apartment, the safer I would be. We talked about college memories and his new apartment. It felt so normal. So nice. For a brief window of time, I pretended I was just a regular twenty-something girl catching up with her crush.

The waiter cleared our plates. Tariq shifted in his seat. The playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a nervous energy.

"Lydia, I want to confess something," he said softly, leaning forward. "I wanted to tell you this from the beginning, but I was always too nervous. I don't want to waste any more time now."

My breath caught in my throat. "What is it?"

Tariq reached across the white tablecloth. He took my hand in his. His skin felt warm and comforting. He took a deep breath. "Lydia, I like you. Not as a friend, but more than that. Would you like to date me?"

For a fleeting, beautiful second, pure happiness washed over me. He liked me. My crush wanted to date me. I felt special. I felt lucky. I imagined a life where I could say yes, where we could hold hands in the park, go to the movies, and be a real couple.

Then the brutal, terrifying reality of my secret life crushed that fantasy into dust.

I could not deceive this good man. I could not drag his innocent life into my deadly mess. I belonged to a monster. I was a broken, used girl, and Tariq deserved someone whole. If he knew the truth about the Castello family, he would hate me.

Tears pricked my eyes. My heart physically ached.

"Tariq... I am sorry, I can't," I whispered. Guilt painted my features. I wanted him too. I wanted to date him. But I was trapped.

His smile faltered. Confusion masked his handsome face.

"I should leave," I mumbled. I pushed my chair back and abruptly stood up.

Desperate to understand, he stood up too and grabbed my hand again to stop me from walking away. "Lydia, wait. I am sorry if I offended you. Did I cross a boundary? I just thought maybe you liked me too..."

His voice faded into white noise. I could not hear his words anymore. The hairs on my arms stood straight up. A chilling weight settled over the dining room. My throat went bone-dry, and my racing heart nearly stopped beating.

I felt eyes on me.

I turned my head slowly. Sitting at a private booth directly across the room, staring straight into my trembling soul, was the Chief.

Lucian.

Lethal fury blazed in his icy blue eyes. The look promised death. My blood ran cold as I watched his hand resting on the table. He was holding a thick crystal water glass. His knuckles turned stark white. With a sickening crunch, the heavy glass shattered in his bare fist. Sharp shards pierced his skin. Blood pooled on the white tablecloth, but he did not even flinch. He just kept staring at me, a silent, terrifying predator ready to strike.

Vargas's chilling warning rang in my ears like a death knell: *'Don't get involved with someone else, Lydia. You will dig your own grave. You can break any rule but not this. Keep it in mind, don't befriend other men.'*

He had seen Tariq holding my hand. He had seen us together.

Terrified for my life, I jerked my hand free from Tariq's grasp.

"Lydia!" Tariq called out.

I did not answer. I sprinted toward the restaurant doors like a madwoman. I burst out onto the sidewalk, my chest heaving as the cold air hit my lungs. I ignored the confused stares of pedestrians. I just ran. My shoes pounded against the pavement. I did not look back. I needed to hide.

But running could not save me from him.

As soon as I fumbled with my keys and locked myself inside my cramped apartment, my phone buzzed on the counter. The loud sound made me jump. I stared at the bright screen. A text message from Vargas.

*The Chief has summoned you.*

My knees gave out. I sank to the linoleum floor, clutching the phone to my chest. He was going to kill me. I sobbed into my hands. I thought about running away, but where could I go? I had no money, no powerful friends, and no place to hide where his men wouldn't find me.

By evening, I arrived back at his sprawling, intimidating mansion. I walked through the grand entrance like a prisoner heading to the execution block. I was paralyzed by the fear of ending up dead like the other girls who had displeased him.

Usually, the staff guided me to his lavish, massive bedroom on the top floor. I would wait for him there.

Tonight was different.

A silent, burly guard stepped forward. He grabbed my arm, his grip bruising, and dragged me away from the grand staircase.

He led me down an unknown, dark hall in a secluded wing of the house. The air grew colder down here. The luxurious carpets vanished, replaced by hard flooring.

The guard stopped in front of a heavy metal door. He pushed it open, shoved me inside the pitch-black room, and pulled the door shut behind me.

*Click.*

The lock engaged.

I stumbled forward into the darkness. "Let me out!" I cried, my voice echoing off the walls.

Only silence answered me. The air smelled metallic. I clutched my thin dress, my sweaty hands shaking. I backed away from the door, my breathing shallow and fast. I was suffocating in the shadows, waiting for the monster to strike. I sobbed, the tears streaming down my face.

*Click.*

Harsh, blinding fluorescent lights snapped on overhead.

I gasped, shielding my eyes. As my vision adjusted, my heart plummeted.

The Chief was standing right there in the corner of the room. His dark hair was messy. The fresh cuts from the broken glass were still visible on his raw knuckles. His broad posture radiated pure violence.

I shrank back against the locked door. My eyes widened in unadulterated horror as I quickly took in my surroundings.

This was not a bedroom. This was a nightmare.

It was a BDSM room, the one thing that scares me the most.