His Broken Prize

Chapter2:The Rules are Simple

The room was too quiet.

Elise sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the white walls like they might eventually explain themselves. The bed was soft. Too soft. It made her feel like she was sinking. She hated it.

She stood up and started opening drawers for no real reason. Habit. When she was nervous she needed something to do with her hands. The first three drawers were empty. The fourth one stuck a little. She yanked it harder than necessary and it came open with a small screech.

There was a photo at the bottom.

A little boy. Maybe five or six. Dark hair. Serious eyes that looked way too much like Dante’s. He wasn’t smiling. Just staring at the camera like he already knew the world was going to disappoint him.

Elise picked it up carefully. The edges were worn. Someone had held this photo a lot.

The door opened without a knock.

She spun around, photo still in her hand.

Dante stood in the doorway. He looked at her face first, then at the photo. His expression didn’t change, but something in the air did. The temperature dropped about ten degrees.

“Put it back.”

His voice was quiet. Too quiet.

Elise’s fingers tightened on the photo. “Who is he?”

“I said put it back.”

She didn’t move. Her heart was hammering, but her mouth kept going anyway. “He looks like you.”

Dante stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. The soft click sounded louder than it should have. He walked toward her slowly. Not threatening exactly. Just inevitable.

“You’re already breaking rules,” he said. “I haven’t even given you the full list yet.”

“You said I couldn’t leave. You didn’t say I couldn’t open drawers.”

Something dangerous flickered in his eyes. Then it was gone. He stopped right in front of her and held out his hand.

Elise hesitated. Then she placed the photo in his palm.

He looked at it for a long second. His thumb brushed the edge once. Just once. Then he slipped it into the inside pocket of his jacket like it had never been out.

“There are cameras in this room,” he said. “In the hallway. In the elevator. In the kitchen. The only place without cameras is the bathroom. Don’t make me regret that decision.”

Elise swallowed. “Is that supposed to scare me?”

“It’s supposed to inform you.”

She crossed her arms. “Is the boy… yours?”

Dante’s jaw tightened. For a moment she thought he was going to ignore the question completely. Then he said, very quietly, “He was.”

Was.

The word sat heavy between them.

Elise didn’t know what to say to that. Sorry felt stupid. Anything else felt worse. So she just stood there like an i***t while the silence stretched.

Dante turned toward the door. “Dinner is still at eight. Don’t be late again.”

“I wasn’t late on purpose.”

He paused with his hand on the door handle. “Everything you do from now on is on purpose. Remember that.”

Then he was gone.

Elise sat back down on the bed and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. Her hands were shaking. She hated that they were shaking.

A few minutes later someone knocked. Soft. Two knocks.

Marco opened the door without waiting for an answer. He looked at her face and sighed like he already had a headache.

“You found the photo,” he said. Not a question.

“He was in the drawer.”

“I know.” Marco leaned against the doorframe. “You’re lucky. Last person who touched something of his lost the ability to use that hand for a while.”

Elise stared at him. “Are you trying to scare me or warn me?”

“Both.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Look. He’s not… patient. But he’s not random either. Don’t poke at the past and you’ll be fine.”

“The boy is the past?”

Marco’s face closed off. “The boy is off-limits. Completely.”

He left before she could ask anything else.

Elise waited until the hallway was quiet. Then she pulled her old phone out of her jacket pocket. She’d turned it off in the car. Now she turned it back on, heart in her throat.

One bar of signal. Barely.

She dialed her sister’s number. It rang four times. Five. Then a robotic voice told her the call could not be completed.

She tried again. Same thing.

She tried their neighbor’s number. Blocked.

Her phone buzzed once with a new message from an unknown number.

Don’t try again. We can see everything.

Elise deleted the message with shaking fingers and turned the phone all the way off. Then she shoved it under the mattress like that would somehow make it safer.

She didn’t cry. She sat on the floor with her back against the bed and stared at the door until the sky outside the windows turned dark.

At 1:47 a.m. the door opened again.

Dante stood there in black sweatpants and a T-shirt, hair slightly messy, like he’d been trying to sleep and failed. He looked at her sitting on the floor and frowned.

“Why are you on the floor?”

“The bed’s too soft.”

He stared at her for a second like she was speaking another language. Then he stepped inside and closed the door.

“Someone tried to access the building an hour ago,” he said. His voice was low and rough. “They had your name on a list.”

Elise’s stomach dropped. “What?”

“They didn’t get far.” He walked closer. “But they tried. Which means someone still thinks you’re available.”

She stood up slowly. Her legs felt stiff. “And?”

Dante stopped right in front of her. His eyes were darker than usual.

“And I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”

The words hung in the air between them. Heavy. Final.

Elise’s mouth was dry. “I’m not-”

“You are,” he said quietly. “For the next thirty days, you are. After that… we’ll see.”

He reached past her and pulled the blankets down on the bed like he was making a point.

“Get some sleep. Tomorrow the real rules start.”

Then he left.

Elise stood there for a long time after the door closed, heart beating too hard, the ghost of his words still stuck to her skin.

What’s mine.

she climb into the too-soft bed, pulled the covers up to her chin, and stared at the ceiling until her eyes burned

Somewhere in the building, she was almost certain he was still awake too.