Rules
981 Words
Elena woke up furious.
Not confused.
Not scared.
Furious.
The bedroom ceiling above her was unfamiliar — dark wood panels, recessed lighting, massive windows hidden behind steel security shutters. Somewhere beyond the walls, rain still hammered against the building.
Safehouse.
The memory slammed back into her instantly.
Gunshots.
Shattered glass.
Luca dragging her to the ground.
Her chest tightened.
For a brief second, panic crawled up her throat again.
Then anger replaced it.
She threw the blankets aside and climbed out of bed, immediately noticing someone had changed her clothes sometime during the night. Her dress was gone, replaced with loose gray sweatpants and a black hoodie far too big to belong to her.
A man’s hoodie.
Her face heated slightly.
“Nope,” she muttered to herself. “Absolutely not.”
She walked to the bedroom door and twisted the handle.
Locked.
Elena stared at it for two full seconds.
Then tried again harder.
Still locked.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
She pounded on the door immediately.
“Hello?”
Nothing.
“Elena.”
Luca’s voice came calmly from the other side.
Of course it did.
“Open the door.”
“No.”
Her jaw dropped. “No?”
“You tried leaving twice last night.”
“I was unconscious for half of it!”
“You still tried.”
Elena pressed both hands against the wood. “You cannot lock me in a room.”
“I can.”
“You’re insane.”
“You’re alive.”
She hated how calm he stayed.
It made arguing with him impossible.
“Elena,” he said after a moment, “step back from the door.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m opening it.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically but stepped away anyway.
The door unlocked a second later.
Luca stood in the doorway wearing a fitted black long-sleeve shirt with dark cargo pants, looking unfairly composed for someone who apparently spent his nights dragging people away from assassins.
His gaze swept over her quickly.
Checking for injuries.
Checking if she was okay.
That realization irritated her more than it should have.
“You locked me in,” she snapped.
“You needed rest.”
“You kidnapped me.”
“I protected you.”
“You’re very annoying.”
“You’re very difficult.”
Elena folded her arms.
Luca’s eyes briefly flicked toward the oversized hoodie hanging off one of her shoulders before looking away again.
“Did you change my clothes?” she asked.
“No.”
That surprised her.
“Then who did?”
“A medic.”
“Oh.”
A pause settled awkwardly between them.
Elena hated that she suddenly felt embarrassed.
Luca stepped aside from the doorway. “You should eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You haven’t eaten in almost fourteen hours.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know everything you do right now.”
The answer should’ve sounded creepy.
Instead, it sent a strange warmth through her chest.
Which was ridiculous.
This man was controlling, emotionally unavailable, and had the personality of a locked door.
So why did she suddenly notice how attractive his voice was?
Elena brushed past him into the hallway.
The safehouse looked more like a luxury penthouse than a bunker. Dark modern walls. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the rain-covered city. Security monitors lined one wall near the living room.
Luca followed a few steps behind her silently.
Always behind her.
Watching.
“You’re staring again,” she muttered.
“It’s my job.”
“You know normal people blink, right?”
“I blink.”
“Rarely.”
For the first time, she noticed the faintest shift in his expression.
Not quite a smile.
But close.
And somehow that tiny almost-smile affected her more than it should have.
Elena quickly looked away.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
“You’re staying here until we know who ordered the attack,” Luca said.
“No.”
“Yes.”
She turned sharply toward him. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“I do if it keeps you alive.”
“There are security guards outside my apartment already.”
“The shooter knew where you’d be last night.”
That stopped her cold.
Luca walked toward the security monitors, pressing something on a tablet beside them.
Footage from the gala appeared on-screen.
Elena watched people moving through the ballroom only minutes before the attack.
Then Luca paused the footage.
A man in a gray suit stood near the balcony entrance.
Watching her.
Her stomach dropped.
“That’s him?” she asked quietly.
Luca nodded once.
“He disappeared immediately after the first shot.”
Elena stared at the screen.
Someone had been watching her.
Tracking her.
Waiting.
Fear slowly curled through her chest for the first time since last night.
Luca must’ve noticed because his voice softened slightly when he spoke again.
“You’re safe here.”
The words should’ve comforted her.
Instead, they made her look at him.
Really look at him.
At the scars across his hands.
The exhaustion hidden behind his eyes.
The way he constantly positioned himself between her and every exit without realizing it.
This man had probably spent his entire life protecting people.
And somehow seemed completely alone doing it.
“You don’t sleep much, do you?” she asked suddenly.
His expression hardened again immediately.
Defensive walls back up.
“I sleep enough.”
“That means no.”
“Elena—”
“What happened to you?”
Silence.
A dangerous kind of silence.
Luca’s jaw tightened slightly before he looked away from her entirely.
“You should eat,” he repeated.
And just like that, the conversation was over.
But Elena noticed something important in that moment.
For the first time since meeting him…
She’d found the crack in his armor
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