BOUND TO THE RUTHLESS DON

SHADOWS BENEATH THE MASK

The Moretti estate was no longer celebrating. The grand chandeliers that once shimmered over ballrooms now hung above bitter silences and muffled quarrels.

The morning after Serena vanished, Isabella’s shrill cries tore through the marble halls.

“She was seen with Volkov!” Isabella spat, her jeweled hand flashing as it cracked across Elena’s cheek. The girl stumbled but did not fall, her eyes burning with quiet rage.

“She was taken,” Elena shouted breathlessly, clutching her stinging cheek. “I saw the men! She didn’t run away!”

Maria stepped forward then, her composure frayed. She had been silent too long, but not when it came to her daughter. “Isabella, enough,” she snapped. “Serena would never run. She is brave, braver than anyone in this house gives her credit for. If she is with the Volkovs, it is because they forced her.”

Isabella’s face twisted, her painted lips curling into a sneer. “Brave?” She laughed bitterly, eyes narrowing. “Don’t fool yourself, Maria. That girl has always been headstrong, always defiant. She was seen with Volkov, and yet you dare spin it into some kidnapping? How can that be possible?”

Maria’s voice cracked with desperation. “Because I know my daughter! Because I raised her, Isabella, not you.”

Isabella’s fury snapped. “Lies,” she hissed. And before anyone could stop her, her hand flew again, this time striking Maria across the face. The sharp sound echoed through the marble hall, silencing even the servants who lingered near the doorway.

For a moment, even the servants froze, their whispers dying on their tongues. Into that silence, Adrian entered, his heavy steps like judgment itself.

Maria staggered but did not bow. Her eyes welled with tears, though not from the sting. “You will not break me,” she whispered, trembling. “And you will not turn my daughter into a coward she is not.”

Camilla, ever quick to seize the moment, smirked from the side. “Of course she ran away. Serena was always weak. Probably fled with some lover and left us all to deal with the shame.”

The venomous words hit their mark.

Adrian’s cold eyes swept the room, and the lie had already taken root.

“Running away,” he repeated, his voice dripping venom. “Do you know what this does to our name? To our business? You’ve ruined us.”

Elena sobbed, her cheek still burning, but her protests fell unheard. Maria tried to speak again, but Adrian silenced her with a glare that carried the weight of finality.

In the Moretti household, truth bent easily under Isabella’s tongue and Adrian’s pride.

Serena had become both a ghost and a scandal.

Meanwhile, in the fortress of shadows she now called her prison, Serena paced the length of her chamber. The walls were not iron, but they might as well have been. Guards lingered in every corridor, their silence heavier than chains.

She pressed her palm against the tall window, staring at the sea. Waves slammed against jagged rocks below, a reminder of how far she was from escape.

Her mind echoed with two truths: she hated Dominic Volkov, and she couldn’t stop thinking of him.

That evening, a knock at her door startled her. Luca appeared, giving a slight bow. “The boss requests your presence for dinner.”

Serena stiffened. “Requests? Or commands?”

He smiled faintly. “Both.”

The dining room was vast, its long table set with crystal and silver that gleamed beneath golden chandeliers. Yet only two seats were prepared, one at the head, and one beside it.

Dominic stood as she entered. He pulled out the chair for her himself, an act so startling Serena faltered. Of all things, she hadn’t expected courtesy from him. From the devil who tore her world apart, this small, startling act unsettled her more than his threats ever had.

“Sit,” he said quietly. “Eat.”

The aroma of roasted lamb and herbs filled the room, but Serena’s appetite was strangled by unease. She lowered herself into the seat, wary.

He poured her wine with steady hands. “You should know,” he began, his voice calm, “your family believes you ran away. Isabella and Camilla made sure of it. Your father is furious, not because you are missing, but because his reputation bleeds.”

Serena’s breath caught. The betrayal stung sharper than any blade. “Ran away?” she whispered. “They think I would just abandon Elena? Maria?”

“They do,” Dominic replied, his dark gaze holding hers. “And they will not come for you. They’re too consumed with salvaging what little honor they imagine they still have.”

For a moment, Serena couldn’t speak. The world had always been cruel within the Moretti estate, but hearing it so plainly, stripped of pretense, left her hollow.

Finally, she drew a shaky breath. “So what am I here, then? Your prisoner?”

Dominic leaned closer, the candlelight sharpening the hard lines of his face. “You are mine. And that is safer than being theirs.”

Serena’s fury surged. But instead of shouting, she straightened her spine, meeting him with a coolness that surprised even herself. “Then I’ll play the role you’ve given me. Yours. For now.”

His lips curved slightly, almost approving. “Good.”

Dinner passed in taut silence, broken only by the clink of silver. Yet beneath that silence, Serena sensed something she hadn’t before, not just possession, but something dangerously close to care.

When Dominic stood, he didn’t leave immediately. He stepped behind her chair, his hand brushing the carved wood, his voice low. “Eat more. You’re too thin.” Then he walked away, leaving Serena shaken, her pulse betraying her.

The night stretched long. Serena lay restless on the edge of the massive bed in her chamber, sleep impossible. Every creak in the corridor set her nerves alight.

Then the door opened.

Dominic stood on the threshold, jacket discarded, shirt slightly undone, his steps unsteady. The faint smell of vodka clung to him, sharp and heavy.

“What are you doing here?” Serena demanded, clutching the blanket to her chest.

He closed the door softly, leaning against it. His eyes, though glazed with drink, still burned with that unrelenting focus. “Couldn’t sleep,” he muttered. “Thought you might be awake.”

Her heart raced. “You shouldn’t be here.”

He moved closer, the firelight flickering over his face. “And yet, here I am.”

Serena forced herself to steal her voice. “You think you can control everything. But you’re just a coward hiding behind power and fear.”

Something flickered in his gaze. Not anger, something rawer. He stopped at the edge of her bed, towering but vulnerable in a way she hadn’t seen before.

“You see me as a monster,” Dominic said slowly. “And maybe I am. But tell me, Serena, when I touched you, did you really hate it?”

Her breath hitched. His words cut straight through her defenses. She hated him, yes. But her body remembered that kiss on the balcony, the heat of his presence in the market.

“I—” She faltered, then found her strength. “You can’t own me with touches and threats.”

Dominic leaned down, his face inches from hers. The scent of vodka mingled with his cologne, intoxicating.

“You think power makes you untouchable, but you’re just a—” The rest of her words died as his lips brushed hers, stealing the fury from her breath. The kiss deepened, claiming.

Serena’s hands pressed against his chest, half pushing, half clinging. The kiss burned, both fury and longing tangled together.

But just as the heat surged, Dominic pulled back. His eyes darkened, his voice rough. “I won’t take you like this. Not unless you want it. Not unless you ask.”

Even drunk, his control was unshakable.

Serena stared at him, stunned. Somewhere beneath the ruthless don, there was restraint. Care. Maybe even… something gentler.

He straightened, raking a hand through his hair. “Get some rest,” he murmured, before turning toward the door.

“Dominic,” she whispered, almost without meaning to.

He paused.

Her voice shook. “Why me?”

He didn’t turn back. “Because when I look at you, I see the only thing I can’t command. And I will have it.”

Then he was gone, leaving her heart in chaos.

The following morning, Serena found herself wandering the balcony that overlooked the sea. The salt air cooled her burning thoughts, but it couldn’t silence them.

“You look like you’re plotting an escape.”

The unfamiliar voice startled her. She spun to see a man leaning lazily against the balustrade. He shared Dominic’s sharp features, but where Dominic was steel, this man was fire. His grin was the kind that promised trouble before it even spoke, a sharp contrast to Dominic’s cold precision.

“Mikhail Volkov,” he introduced with a mock bow. “You must be the infamous Serena. My brother’s… obsession.”

Serena’s pulse quickened. “And you are?”

“The better-looking Volkov,” he teased, stepping closer. “But don’t worry, I’m not here to steal you away. Just curious. What makes the ice king lose his composure over one girl?”

His gaze lingered too long, bold and assessing. Serena bristled. “I’m not your curiosity.”

Mikhail’s grin widened. “Fiery. I like that. Careful, Serena, fire attracts me more than ice ever could.”

Before Serena could retort, a shadow fell across them. Dominic stood in the doorway, his eyes locked on his brother, cold as a loaded gun.

“Mikhail,” Dominic said evenly. “Leave.”

Mikhail smirked, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, brother. I was just saying hello.”

He winked at Serena before strolling off, whistling a careless tune.

Dominic’s gaze lingered on her, hard and unreadable. Serena held it, refusing to look away. For the first time, she wondered if Dominic’s fortress was built less to protect her, and more to shield her from the chaos his own family carried.