In The Devil’s Keeping

The Devil’s Claim

The silence in the room stretches, the tension so thick that a knife could cut it.

My hands go cold as my mind replays our conversation over and over again. I can't tell his true intentions towards me... will I end up like his other victims?

No. I won't allow that to happen.

I stand up from the bed, my knees quaking beneath me, and I open the door.

"Antonio!" I shriek at the top of my lungs, walking out of my room.

He was down the hallway, his back turned to me. He stopped when he heard his name.

He turned around and walked towards me. His movements were always slow and predatory; he was never in a rush, yet his presence demanded respect and fear.

The hallway felt like it was closing in on me. I looked away from him and Antonio's footsteps stopped.

"You're trembling," he stated.

"I'm not," I shot back, determined.

"Then you're worse at lying than I thought."

There was that silence again. It stretched on. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

"Fiore, come," he said, his voice low and menacing.

My head snapped back to him. He looked at me indifferently, but it was a cold and calculating glare.

I stayed where I was, not only because I refused to go close to him but because my body wouldn't obey me now. I was still terrified of him.

Antonio took a step forward and I flinched.

"When I say come, you come, Fiore," his voice was low and laced with danger, like another punishment would await me if I dared to piss him off.

"Why?" I asked quietly.

His eyebrow shot up at that.

I knew this man could end me, I knew he could kill me, but yet I refused to be his obedient little pet he thought he could control at whim.

My heart pounded against my ribs. I could regret this later.

"Because I didn't give you a choice," he responded. That statement sounded like a threat, a warning, and an invitation to defy him.

I didn't want to know what would happen if I chose to disobey, so I took slow and deliberate steps.

They weren't as confident or controlled as his; they were fearful, shaky, and an attempt to delay whatever was going to be done to me.

I wasn't wearing any shoes, so my feet, wet and sticky, stuck to the floorboards, each squelching sound reverberating in the hallway.

It almost felt like the floor itself wanted to hold me back from him.

I stopped right where Antonio was, standing in front of him with my hands clasped in front of me and my gaze on his shoes.

"Look at me," he demanded.

I couldn’t.

My throat tightened and every part of my skin prickled, like my nerves were screaming warnings—warnings I couldn’t make sense of.

He traced a single finger along my jaw and then flicked my chin up so I was forced to look at him.

I hadn’t noticed the difference in our heights before until then. Antonio towered over me. That became yet another thing that intimidated me.

The way his eyes bore into my soul made my pulse race.

"You are scared, yet you shouted my name like a brave girl," he said with a smirk.

"N-No! I'm not scared of you, I—" I stuttered.

His other hand found my pulse point on my neck and stayed there.

"So why does your pulse betray you every time I get this close?" he asked mockingly.

I tore my gaze away, biting my lower lip in frustration.

He forced my gaze back to his.

"No one before today has dared shout my name, much less call me by my name, Fiore."

I tried to talk but he pushed me to the wall and pinned both my arms with one hand.

My cheeks felt hot. This position was embarrassing, and I felt vulnerable and useless as I wriggled, but I couldn’t loosen his grip one bit.

"Fiore, you sounded like you were trying to control me," he said in a growl.

"N-No... I—" I stuttered, shaking my head as panic set in.

His free hand grabbed my jaw and squeezed my face. My eyes brimmed with tears.

"Do you know how many men have tried to control me before?" he asked with a dangerous tone.

I shook my head again and gave him pleading eyes not to hurt me.

He brought his face closer to mine, staring more intently at me before he laughed.

"Not one of them is alive, Fiore. Not one," he said, his hands gripping my hands and jaw tighter.

"Sir!" a voice called out, breaking his attention. He relieved the pressure on my hands and jaw.

Antonio looked at the one who interrupted. He gave him a cold glare; the man instantly froze.

"You have five seconds to give me a good reason as to why I shouldn't strangle you right now," he said, his voice calm.

"Sir, I— Two of our newly recruited men are spies that were hired by our rival and they—"

Just then a blast was heard in the distance, along with distant cries and shrieks, then the sound of open gunfire.

"f**k. We're being breached." Antonio lets me go and I rub my wrists gratefully, allowing blood flow to circulate once again.

"Protect my Fiore. I do not care about the others." And with that, he took a gun out of his pocket and ran out of the hallway with renewed urgency.

The guard stepped close to me, grabbed my elbow with enough force, and pulled me back into my room. He shut the doors and windows.

"What's happening?!" I asked.

He ignored me, then took a chair and sat in front of the door, his gun aimed at it.

"I want an answer!" I practically screamed, tugging at his collar.

He glared at me, and my bravery dissolved just a bit when I looked at the loaded gun in front of me.

But I knew he wouldn't kill me. His life depended on it.

"We're under attack," he stated simply, returning his attention to the door.

"By who?" I asked, feeling bolder yet again.

"Signorina, I can kill you right now for bothering me with stupid questions," he said.

"But you won't because Antonio could kill you if anything happened to me," I replied with confidence. His silence told me I was right, and my chest swelled with pride to know I was Antonio's and no one would dare touch me.

No. I was not his and I belong to no one. But why do I like the fact that I am untouchable...?

And why does the thought of him not coming back make me feel anxious?

Does this mean I..?