Chapter 2 — The Collar

They dressed me like a gift.

A black dress. No jewelry. No phone. Hair brushed until it shone like it wanted to be admired.

I looked in the mirror and didn’t see a woman. I saw a specimen prepared for presentation.

When I walked into the main hall, every conversation softened, then sharpened. Eyes sliced over me.

Men who would never touch Dante’s property in public stared like they were memorizing the price tag.

Dante stood near the fireplace with Katerina on his arm. She was tall, pale, perfect, the kind of beauty that looked expensive and cruel. A diamond the world assumed was real because it had a certificate.

Her gaze met mine, and her smile widened.

“So this is her,” she said in accented English, sweet as sugar over a blade.

Dante didn’t correct her tone. He didn’t correct anything.

Katerina stepped forward. In her hand was a velvet box.

My stomach turned.

“This is for you,” she said, as if she was doing me a favor. “A symbol. Dante’s household has traditions.”

I didn’t take it.

“Open,” she prompted.

A few people chuckled. The sound crawled under my skin.

I looked at Dante.

His eyes were unreadable. His face was carved from control.

“Open it,” he said.

My fingers trembled as I lifted the lid.

Inside was a collar.

Not a necklace. Not a choker. A collar—leather, black, with a small metal plate engraved with a name in clean capitals.

SERAFINA.

My vision narrowed. The room tilted.

Katerina leaned in, voice low. “In my country, we mark what is ours. In his country, he marks what is his. You should be grateful. Most girls disappear.”

I snapped the box shut. “No.”

Silence slammed into the room.

Katerina’s eyes cooled. “Excuse me?”

“I said no,” I repeated, louder. My voice shook, but it didn’t break. “I’m not an animal.”

A ripple moved through the crowd—shock, amusement, hunger.

Dante’s gaze sharpened. His voice dropped to the tone that meant the world had stopped being negotiable.

“Serafina.”

My chest rose and fell too fast. “Don’t do this.”

His expression didn’t change, but I felt the invisible hand of his authority closing around my throat.

“Put it on,” he said.

“No.”

The word detonated inside me like I’d finally lit the fuse on my own cage.

Dante stepped closer. He didn’t touch me—not yet. He didn’t need to. The air changed. The men around us shifted, ready.

Katerina smiled like this was entertainment. “She’s bold.”

Dante’s eyes didn’t leave mine. “You’re embarrassing me.”

I laughed, breathless. “I’ve been embarrassing you for five years, then. Because you never had the courage to stand with me in daylight.”

Something flashed—anger, pain, something he hated having.

His hand lifted. For a second, I thought he might reach for me.

Instead, he reached for the collar.

“Hold her,” he said, and the command cut through the room like a gunshot.

Two security men moved in. I twisted, fighting, the dress tearing slightly at the seam. My pulse screamed.

“Stop!” I shouted, but the word turned into a gasp when one of them pinned my arms behind my back.

Katerina stepped forward, taking the collar from Dante like he was handing her a crown.

“This will be easier if you behave,” she murmured near my ear. “If you fight, they’ll enjoy it.”

“Dante,” I choked, struggling. “Please.”

It was the first time I’d begged in months.

His gaze held mine, flat and cold.

“Do it,” he said.

Katerina fastened the collar around my throat.

The leather bit into my skin. The clasp clicked.

And then—fire.

Not metaphorical. Not poetic. My body reacted instantly, violently.

My throat burned. My skin prickled. Heat rushed up my neck as if someone had poured acid under my collarbones.

I sucked in air and got almost none.

My hands went numb. My vision speckled with black.

Katerina’s eyebrows rose with mild interest. “Oh.”

The room blurred. Voices became distant. Someone laughed again.

I tried to speak, but my tongue felt thick, my throat swelling.

I stumbled, knees buckling.

For a moment, I thought Dante might catch me.

He didn’t.

The last thing I saw was Katerina’s satisfied smile—and Dante watching, still, as if my body was simply another problem to manage.

Then the floor rose up and swallowed me whole.