My Father's Killer

The Cage

Bella’s POV

Morning came slow. The sunlight filtered through the heavy cream curtains, throwing pale stripes across the polished floors. My body ached from sleeping in clothes that weren’t mine. My hands were clammy, my chest still tight from yesterday’s confrontation with Luca.

The folder. The contract. The pen. It still sat on the bed, untouched.

I couldn’t bring myself to look at it. Not yet. Not while I felt so small, so trapped.

I rose quietly, tiptoeing across the room. Every step seemed loud, echoing in the empty mansion. Shadows from the heavy furniture stretched across the floor like dark fingers. I shivered. The air smelled faintly of cologne—Luca’s cologne.

Expensive. Dark. Dangerous.

It made my stomach twist in a way I hated.

I walked toward the window.

The city beyond looked enormous, free, alive.

And I… I was not.

Not at all.

Curiosity, the same one that had made me scan for windows yesterday, pulled me toward the hallway. I needed to see. I needed to know what this place really was. Maybe if I understood it, I could figure a way out.

The hallways were long, lined with doors I didn’t dare open. The air was cool, too perfect, too controlled. Every step I took made my pulse race.

I noticed it first — a small blinking red light near the ceiling. A camera. I froze. My heart thudded in my ears.

They were watching me.

Of course they were.

I forced myself to keep moving. Every step measured, careful. I wanted to see the kitchen, the living areas, maybe even a balcony. Somewhere to breathe, somewhere to feel like I wasn’t trapped inside a gilded cage.

The first door I dared peek into revealed a room filled with monitors. Security feeds. Every hallway, every corner of the mansion, displayed on the screens. My chest tightened. They were everywhere. I was never alone.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed a shadow moving. Not a ghost, not my imagination. Shadow — that huge man who had brought me here — moved quietly, perfectly, like he was a part of the house itself.

I swallowed hard. My stomach twisted.

I kept walking, hoping to find something, anything that would give me even a tiny sense of freedom. A loose window, a weak door, a stairwell that might lead outside.

Nothing.

Everything was locked. Everything was watched. And Shadow? He was always near. I could feel it. The quiet, constant presence, even when I didn’t see him.

A wave of fear hit me. A wave of anger too.

How could my father let this happen? How could he hide me so well from the world and yet leave me defenseless against this?

I leaned against a wall, breathing slowly, trying to calm myself. But as I did, a sound made me freeze. Footsteps. Soft. Deliberate. I pressed myself against the wall, heart hammering.

Shadow appeared at the end of the hallway, his eyes scanning. Not angry. Not alarmed. Just… assessing. Watching. Waiting.

I tried to hide my fear. I tried to make my body look normal, calm. But I knew he could see through me. Of course he could. He always could.

“Interesting,” I whispered under my breath, shaking slightly.

I wanted to run. I wanted to scream. I wanted to fight. But the fear in my chest told me the truth — I couldn’t. Not here. Not now.

I retreated slowly, keeping my eyes on the monitors as I passed by. The mansion wasn’t just large. It was a fortress. Hidden doors, reinforced walls, cameras everywhere. Every step I took, every corner I passed, felt like moving through a trap I couldn’t escape.

And through it all, I felt him. Luca. I could sense him everywhere, even when he wasn’t in the room. The thought made my stomach turn.

He was in control. Of the mansion. Of the men. Of me.

I walked into the grand living room next. Sunlight spilled across the polished floor, and I froze. There, near the window, was Shadow again. Not moving. Just standing. Waiting. Watching.

A shiver ran down my spine. I realized then — it wasn’t just Shadow. There were others. Guards, hidden, silent. I couldn’t see all of them, but I could feel them. The weight of their attention pressed down on me.

I swallowed hard. My hands trembled slightly.

Luca had thought of everything. Every escape route. Every window. Every door. Every possible weakness.

And I had walked right into it.

Anger flared inside me. My father had protected me from the mafia world, yes, but Luca had brought me here. Into his world. And now I was trapped. Completely.

I pressed my palms against my face, closing my eyes. I hated him. I hated what he did. I hated the way my pulse raced when I thought of him. I hated the way I couldn’t stop thinking about him, even now.

But there was no stopping it. No stopping him.

The thought made something twist in my chest. Desire. Fear. Confusion.

I opened my eyes slowly, scanning the room again.

And then I noticed it — a slight movement in the far corner.

Shadow. Or someone else. Watching. Waiting.

I realized with a cold shock…

I was being studied. Every move I made, every step I took, every breath I drew, was noted.

Stored.

Measured.

Calculated.

And Luca would know.

He always knew.

I felt a flush of panic, mixed with something else. Something dangerous and frustrating.

I wanted to escape. I wanted to run. I wanted to fight him.

But the truth settled deep in my chest: I couldn’t.

Not now.

Not ever.

At least… not without him noticing.

I sank down slowly to the floor, my back against the wall. My legs pulled close to me, arms wrapped around them. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to beg.

But I didn’t.

Because I knew Luca would enjoy that too much.

The heat of his presence was everywhere, even when he wasn’t. I could feel it pressing against me, pushing me down, owning me even from a distance.

And I hated it.

Yet, a small, terrifying part of me… wanted it.

I closed my eyes and let the thought sink in.

I was trapped.

Completely.

And I

had no idea what he would do next.

Not knowing was terrifying.

And that, I realized, was exactly how he wanted it.