Part 2
### Chapter 1: Chapter 1:The spell I'm under
Life is so fucking cruel.
You can want so many things—dream so hard—but never get any of it.
It sucks.
I never planned to live like this.
I didn’t choose this path, yet every single day I find myself stuck in it—again and again. Like a cycle I can’t break.
When I was little, I dreamt of being so many things. I had wild illusions about the future: freedom, love, success—hell, even peace.
But this?
This life I’m living now?
This was never part of the dream.
If someone had told me back then that this is how things would turn out, I’d have laughed in their face and called them delusional.
I sigh, dragging my feet to my father’s office. I don’t know what he wants from me.
Today was supposed to be my off day—my one day to be human, to do the things I love.
Unless…
No. He can’t know my secret. I can’t let that happen.
I’m 24 years old, not some little kid he can push around anymore.
But who the hell am I kidding?
This man would walk through fire just to make sure I’m under his control.
Always playing his twisted little mind games.
That’s why I never call him my father. To me, he’s just a sperm donor—and he’ll never be addressed as anything more.
I knock twice on his office door.
“Come in,” he growls.
Pushing the door open, I walk in. He’s already staring at me with those cold, malicious eyes.
“You can have a seat,” he says, motioning toward the chair across from him.
“I’m good standing,” I reply flatly, arms folded.
“Fine. Stand like the fool you are. I don’t care.”
I scoff. This grumpy bastard…
“Why am I here? Today’s supposed to be my off day,” I state, arms still crossed.
“How is that my concern, mister?”
Ugh. This son of a bitch.
“What do you even do with your off days anyway?”
“None of your business, Mr.,” I snap, eyes narrowing.
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that!” he barks, slamming his hand on the desk as he stands up.
He throws a file at me. “I want you to go to the intense romance club and get information on this guy.” He points at a picture on his desk. “No questions. Do as I say. Now get the hell out of my office.”
I sigh, snatch the file, and walk out into the corridor.
The moment I shut the door behind me, I pull out my phone and dial Amanda.
She answers on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Hey. You busy?”
“Not much. Wassup?”
“I need your help. My father wants me to go to a intense romance club to get information on some guy.”
“Oop! Are you scared of going to a intense romance club all by yourself?” she teases.
I keep my face as neutral as possible. “Shut up. Don’t make this harder than it already is,” I say through clenched teeth.
She bursts into laughter, like I just said the funniest thing ever.
Sometimes I wonder how she laughs like that—so freely.
Will there ever be a day I’ll laugh like that?
“Alright, alright. I won’t tease. I promise,” she says between giggles.
“Just get ready. I’ll pick you up in five.”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I walk to my car, throwing one last look behind me.
I don’t live under my father’s roof anymore—and thank God for that.
But somehow, he still manages to control me.
Every. Single. Time.
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### Chapter 2: Chapter 2: Bait And Boundaries
I slow down as the familiar building comes into view.
Once I get to the gate, I nod at the security man. He opens it without question. No need for explanations—they know me too well by now.
I drive through, park, and get out of the car.
Walking up to the front door, I ring the bell.
I’m just about to press it again when the door swings open with force.
Amanda stands there, glaring at me like she wants to strangle me.
“Good afternoon to you too, Amanda,” I say with a blank expression.
She rolls her eyes, clearly annoyed.
Did I piss her off? Or was she already angry before I got here? Ugh—I don’t even know.
“I’ve told you so many times to stop ringing the damn doorbell. You can literally open the door and come in. This is your home too, Ian.” She gives me a sad look as she steps aside.
I sigh. “Alright, it won’t happen again,” I mumble as I walk past her into the house.
“That’s what you said the last fucking time, you dickhead,” she mutters behind me.
I pretend not to hear that. Not my business.
“Where are your parents?” I ask, looking around for any signs of them.
“They went on a trip.”
“Aww, too bad. They’ll miss seeing this handsome face today,” I say, rubbing my fingers along my chin in mock arrogance.
Amanda gives me an amused look. “You wish.”
I open my mouth to fire back something witty but stop.
I remember why I came here in the first place.
I drop onto the sofa, cross my legs, and take off my sunglasses.
“Have a seat,” I say, motioning to Amanda, who’s still standing by the door.
She raises a brow. “This is my house, Ian. You don’t get to tell me to sit.”
“Ohh, I see how it is,” I say with a smirk.
She walks over and sits down anyway. “So, what’s your plan?”
I scratch the back of my neck. “Umm… first of all, what exactly is a intense romance club? I’ve never heard of that before.”
Amanda’s playful demeanor fades. She gives me a look—one of pity, and something else I can’t quite name.
She takes a deep breath before answering.
“Well… a intense romance club is kind of a sex club,” she starts cautiously. “There’s stripping… shows… and, uh, some kinky stuff.”
“Kinky stuff?” I blink. “Can you elaborate a little more on that part?”
“No,” she says firmly, face hardening. “That’s all you need to know.”
“Okay, chill. Relax, jeez.”
“I’m sorry, Ian,” she says, softer this time. “It’s just… I don’t know how to explain it properly. The details are kind of… complicated.”
“Oh. Alright. I get it.”
That’s a lie.
I have no idea what she’s talking about.
If it isn’t obvious already, I’m an illiterate when it comes to stuff like this.
Growing up, my father only taught me about Mafia shit—nothing useful or normal.
It’s Amanda who’s been teaching me little things over time. She’s my lifeline whenever I need to understand the world beyond guns and threats.
“So, what’s the plan?” she asks again, clapping her hands together.
I smirk. “You seduce him to get the information, while I watch to make sure you’re safe.”
She glares. “You’re unbelievable. Are you using me as bait?”
“No! I’m just saying… you’re a woman, he likes women, and you’re—well—you’re pretty.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll do it,” she groans. “No need to keep convincing me.”
“Alright then,” I say with a small victorious grin.
She jumps up. “Now, let’s get dressed—so we don’t look suspicious.”
The way she’s smiling… it’s almost evil. Like she’s got something wicked planned.
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