His Weakness

Captive

Elena didn’t remember the car ride.

One moment she had been in the alley, rain soaking her skin, her pulse wild with panic—

—and the next, she was here.

Warm.

Dry.

Trapped.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, her senses returning in fragments. The first thing she noticed was the silence. Not the kind that soothed—but the kind that pressed in, heavy and deliberate.

Controlled.

She pushed herself upright, her head throbbing faintly as she took in her surroundings.

The room was… luxurious.

Too luxurious.

Dark wood paneling lined the walls, polished to perfection. A chandelier cast a soft golden glow over the space, illuminating furniture that looked like it belonged in a private estate rather than… wherever she was.

No windows.

Her stomach dropped.

The door.

She spotted it instantly and swung her legs off the bed, ignoring the slight dizziness as she rushed toward it. Her fingers wrapped around the handle.

Locked.

Of course it was locked.

“Let me out!” she shouted, pounding against the door. “Do you hear me?!”

Her voice echoed back at her, swallowed by the walls.

No response.

Her breathing quickened as panic clawed its way up her chest. She stepped back, dragging a hand through her hair, trying to think.

Think.

Okay. She wasn’t dead.

That had to mean something.

Right?

The soft click of a lock turning shattered the silence.

Elena froze.

The door opened slowly.

And he walked in.

Alessandro De Luca filled the space effortlessly, his presence as suffocating as it had been in the alley—if not more. Without the chaos of rain and darkness, there was nothing to dull the impact of him.

Tailored black suit.

Immaculate.

Untouchable.

His gaze found her instantly.

Sharp. Assessing.

Interested.

Elena forced herself not to step back.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t wake up,” he said calmly, closing the door behind him.

The click echoed like a gunshot.

“Where am I?” she demanded, her voice tighter than she wanted.

A flicker of something—amusement, maybe—crossed his expression.

“Safe,” he replied.

Her jaw tightened.

“Kidnapping someone doesn’t exactly scream safe.”

“No,” he agreed mildly. “But compared to the alternative, you’re very fortunate.”

The reminder hit its mark.

The alley.

The gunshot.

The man collapsing.

Elena swallowed hard.

“You were going to kill me,” she said.

It wasn’t a question.

Alessandro tilted his head slightly, considering her.

“Yes.”

The bluntness of it stole the air from her lungs.

“But I didn’t,” he continued, taking a slow step closer.

Instinct screamed at her to move—to run—but there was nowhere to go.

“Do you know why?”

Elena shook her head before she could stop herself.

His gaze darkened slightly, as if pleased by her honesty.

“Because you didn’t look away,” he said.

Her brows pulled together.

“What?”

“Most people do,” he continued, his voice smooth, measured. “They hear something they shouldn’t, and they run. They pretend they saw nothing.”

Another step closer.

“You didn’t.”

Her pulse spiked.

“I was in shock,” she shot back. “That doesn’t make me special.”

“No,” he agreed softly.

“It makes you interesting.”

The word sent a chill down her spine.

Elena forced herself to stand her ground as he closed the remaining distance between them. He stopped just short of touching her, close enough that she could feel the heat of him, the quiet danger coiled beneath his calm exterior.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said.

Her stomach tightened.

“You’re going to stay here.”

“No—”

“You’re going to listen,” he interrupted, his tone still calm—but now edged with steel.

The room seemed to shrink around them.

“You saw something that puts you in a very dangerous position,” he continued. “Not just because of me.”

A pause.

“There are others who would kill you simply for knowing my face.”

Her defiance faltered—just slightly.

“I can’t just disappear,” she s