Chapter3- The Devil's House
1191 Words
Elena stared at Luca Romano.
“Move in with you?”
The words sounded unreal even as she said them.
“Yes,” Luca replied calmly.
As if he had just suggested dinner.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I rarely joke about security.”
Elena shook her head, pacing across the balcony as panic crept into her chest.
“Absolutely not. I just agreed to work for you. That does not mean I’m moving into your house.”
Luca watched her quietly.
Completely unfazed.
“Your apartment is compromised.”
“I can stay with a friend.”
“They’ll find you.”
“I’ll go to the police.”
Now Luca actually laughed.
The sound was low and amused.
“Tell them what?” he asked.
“That your brother stole money from the Bratva and disappeared?”
Her mouth snapped shut.
Exactly.
He stepped closer.
“You’re not dealing with ordinary criminals, Elena.”
“I know that.”
“No,” he said quietly.
“You don’t.”
His voice had changed slightly.
Colder.
More serious.
“For men like them,” Luca continued, “fear is currency.”
Elena crossed her arms.
“I’m not afraid.”
“That’s because you haven’t met them yet.”
The silence that followed felt heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Finally Elena sighed.
“This is insane.”
“Probably.”
“And you expect me to just… trust you?”
Luca’s dark eyes held hers.
“I expect you to understand your options.”
She hated how calm he was.
Hated how he always sounded like he had already calculated every possible outcome.
“How long?” she asked.
“For what?”
“For me living in your house.”
“Until the Bratva stops looking for you.”
“That could take months.”
“Yes.”
Her stomach tightened.
“This keeps getting worse.”
Luca shrugged slightly.
“You’re still alive.”
“Your standards are very comforting.”
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
“Come on.”
He gestured toward the stairs.
“Where are we going?”
“To your new home.”
“I didn’t say yes.”
“You will.”
His confidence was infuriating.
But deep down Elena already knew he was right.
Because every other option was worse.
Twenty minutes later Elena found herself sitting in the passenger seat of a sleek black car.
The city lights slid past the window as they drove through quiet streets.
Neither of them spoke.
Luca drove with one hand resting casually on the wheel, his focus on the road.
Elena studied him from the corner of her eye.
He looked different outside the nightclub.
Still intimidating.
Still dangerous.
But somehow calmer.
More controlled.
“How many people work for you?” she asked suddenly.
“Why?”
“I’m curious.”
“That’s dangerous.”
“Curiosity?”
“For someone in your position.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I’m not asking for mafia secrets. I just want to know what I’m walking into.”
Luca considered the question.
“Enough.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“It’s not supposed to be.”
Typical.
After a few minutes the car turned through a tall iron gate.
Elena leaned forward slightly.
“Is that—”
“Yes.”
The mansion rose in front of them like something from a movie.
Massive stone walls.
Floor-to-ceiling windows.
Lights glowing warmly inside.
Security guards standing near the entrance.
Elena’s jaw dropped.
“You live here?”
“For now.”
“For now?”
“I have several houses.”
Of course he did.
She stepped out of the car slowly, staring at the building in disbelief.
“This place is bigger than a hotel.”
“Don’t worry,” Luca said dryly.
“You won’t have to clean it.”
Very funny.
As they walked toward the entrance, two guards nodded respectfully to Luca.
“Boss.”
Luca acknowledged them with a brief nod.
Inside, the house was even more impressive.
Dark marble floors.
Modern art on the walls.
Soft lighting that made the entire space feel expensive and dangerous at the same time.
Elena spun slowly in the entrance hall.
“This is ridiculous.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
“I doubt that.”
Luca removed his jacket and handed it to a passing staff member.
“Elena will be staying here.”
The woman nodded politely.
“Of course, Mr. Romano.”
Elena blinked.
“Wait. People live here too?”
“Staff.”
“How many?”
“Enough.”
She sighed.
“That’s becoming your favorite answer.”
Luca glanced at her.
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“I’m living in a mafia boss’s house. I think I’m entitled to a few.”
He couldn’t argue with that.
“Come,” he said.
He led her down a long hallway and stopped outside a large door.
“This is your room.”
Elena opened it cautiously.
Then her eyes widened.
The room was enormous.
A king-sized bed.
Floor-to-ceiling windows.
A balcony overlooking the city.
“This is bigger than my entire apartment.”
“You’ll need space.”
“For what?”
“Your paintings.”
Elena turned to look at him.
“You were serious about that?”
“Yes.”
“I thought it was just an excuse to control me.”
“It can be both.”
She crossed her arms.
“You’re very honest about being manipulative.”
“I find honesty saves time.”
Elena walked further into the room, still trying to process everything.
“This is insane.”
“Possibly.”
“But you’re staying.”
She turned toward him.
“What if I try to leave?”
Luca leaned casually against the doorframe.
“I’ll stop you.”
“Physically?”
“If necessary.”
She stared at him.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Elena sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Fine.”
Luca raised an eyebrow.
“Fine?”
“I’ll stay.”
“For now.”
His expression didn’t change.
But something in his eyes softened slightly.
“Good.”
Elena looked up at him.
“One more question.”
“Yes?”
“What happens if the Bratva comes here?”
Luca’s gaze darkened slightly.
“They won’t.”
“And if they try?”
For a moment the room felt very quiet.
Then Luca answered calmly.
“Then they’ll learn why this city belongs to me.”
A chill ran down Elena’s spine.
She believed him.
And somehow that scared her even more.
As Luca turned to leave, she called after him.
“Luca.”
He stopped.
“What?”
Elena hesitated.
Then asked the question that had been bothering her all night.
“Why are you really helping me?”
Luca looked at her for a long moment.
His expression unreadable.
Then he said quietly,
“I never said I was.”
And with that, he closed the door.
- Writer
