A Devil’s Offer
1320 Words
Bella’s POV
The pen sat on the bed like it was waiting for me.
Waiting for me to make the biggest mistake of my life.
My eyes stayed locked on the paper in front of me. The words looked cold. Official. Final.
A contract.
My stomach twisted.
I didn’t need to read the details to understand what it meant.
Control.
Ownership.
His ownership.
Slowly, I lifted my head and looked at him.
Luca Moretti stood only a few feet away, watching me like a man who already knew the outcome of a game.
Calm.
Patient.
Dangerous.
“You expect me to sign that?” I asked.
My voice sounded stronger than I felt.
“Yes.”
The answer came without hesitation.
“No.”
His expression didn’t change.
Not even a little.
For a few seconds the room stayed completely quiet.
The silence made my skin crawl.
“You didn’t even read it,” he said.
“I don’t need to.”
My chest tightened as anger rose again.
“You killed my father,” I snapped. “And now you expect me to sign something that probably gives you control over my entire life?”
“Yes.”
The same calm answer.
My hands clenched.
“You’re insane.”
Luca tilted his head slightly.
“Maybe.”
He stepped closer.
Every step he took made my heart beat faster.
I hated the way my body reacted to him.
I hated it even more that I noticed the way he moved.
Like he owned the room.
Like nothing in the world could threaten him.
“You don’t understand your situation yet,” he said quietly.
“I understand enough.”
I pointed toward the door.
“You kidn*pped me.”
“Yes.”
“You murdered my father.”
“Yes.”
“You brought me here against my will.”
“Yes.”
My voice rose.
“So why would I ever trust you?!”
The words echoed through the room.
For the first time, Luca’s eyes hardened.
He stepped closer.
Too close.
“Because,” he said quietly,
“I am the only reason you are still breathing.”
The words hit me like ice.
My throat tightened.
“What does that mean?”
He studied my face carefully, like he was deciding how much to say.
Then he sighed softly.
“Your father owed many powerful men,” he said.
“I know.”
“No,” Luca replied.
“You really don’t.”
He moved past me and pulled the curtain open wider.
Morning light filled the room.
The city skyline stretched far beyond the mansion walls.
New York.
Big.
Beautiful.
And suddenly very dangerous.
“Your father made enemies everywhere,” Luca continued.
“Men who don’t care about mercy.”
My stomach dropped.
“They’re looking for you now.”
My heart skipped.
“What?”
He turned toward me slowly.
“You’re his daughter.”
“I had nothing to do with his business!”
“That doesn’t matter.”
The way he said it made fear crawl into my chest.
“In our world,” Luca said quietly, “blood matters.”
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Tighter.
“So what,” I whispered. “They want to kill me?”
Luca watched my face carefully.
“Some of them.”
My breath caught.
“And the others?”
His lips curved slightly.
“They want something much worse.”
A cold chill ran down my spine.
“You’re lying.”
“I rarely lie.”
He walked closer again.
Slowly.
Every step made my body tense.
“So let me explain something very clearly,” he said.
His hand lifted.
Before I realized what he was doing, his fingers gently wrapped around my chin again.
Tilting my face up.
My breath stopped.
His touch was firm.
Warm.
Too warm.
“You have two choices,” he said quietly.
His face was so close now that I could see the small scar near his eyebrow.
I wondered where it came from.
“First option,” he continued.
“You walk out of this house.”
His thumb brushed lightly against my chin.
“And within a week, one of those men finds you.”
My stomach twisted.
“They won’t protect you.”
His voice dropped lower.
“They won’t keep you safe.”
My chest rose and fell faster.
“They will break you.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
His thumb moved slightly.
The small touch made something strange move through my body.
I hated it.
I hated him.
Yet I couldn’t move.
“Second option,” he said.
His voice softened slightly.
“You stay here.”
My eyes lifted to his.
“And belong to you?” I whispered.
A small smile appeared on his lips.
“Yes.”
My stomach flipped.
“You’re insane.”
“Possibly.”
His fingers finally released my chin.
The sudden loss of his touch made something inside me feel strangely empty.
I hated that feeling too.
“You think I’m just going to hand myself over to you?” I said.
“You already did.”
My brows furrowed.
“What?”
“You followed me here.”
“I didn’t have a choice!”
He stepped even closer.
Now our bodies were only inches apart.
“You still don’t.”
The room suddenly felt very warm.
Too warm.
I could smell his cologne.
Something dark and expensive.
It made my head spin slightly.
His eyes moved slowly over my face.
Then down.
Then back up again.
The way he looked at me made my skin heat.
Like he was studying every inch of me.
“You’re shaking,” he said quietly.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
My hands clenched.
“Because I hate you.”
“Of course you do.”
His voice almost sounded amused.
But then his hand lifted again.
This time his fingers brushed slowly against my wrist.
The same spot he touched earlier.
My breath caught again.
My body reacted instantly.
And he noticed.
His eyes darkened slightly.
“Interesting,” he murmured.
“Stop.”
I tried pulling my hand away.
But his grip tightened slightly.
“You feel it too,” he said quietly.
“I feel nothing.”
“Liar.”
My cheeks burned.
“Let go of me.”
Instead of letting go…
He stepped even closer.
Now my back touched the wall.
My heart pounded violently in my chest.
His hand slid slowly up my arm.
Not rough.
Not gentle either.
Just slow.
Controlled.
“You should hate me,” he said softly.
His voice was almost a whisper now.
“But hate is a very dangerous emotion.”
My breath trembled.
“Why?”
“Because sometimes…”
His face moved closer.
Very close.
“…it turns into something else.”
My stomach flipped violently.
“Never,” I whispered.
His lips almost touched my ear.
“We’ll see.”
Then suddenly—
He stepped away.
Just like that.
The space between us returned.
My legs felt weak.
I hated that he could do that to me.
Without even trying.
He walked back to the bed calmly.
The contract still waited there.
The pen beside it.
He looked at me again.
“Take your time,” he said.
My heart was still racing.
“I will never sign it.”
Luca picked up the folder again slowly.
Then he walked toward the door.
Before leaving, he looked back at me one last time.
And his next words made my blood run cold.
“Then pray,” he said quietly,
“that Damian Volkov doesn’t find you first.”
The door closed behind him.
And for the first time since I arrived in this mansion…
I realized Luca Moretti might not be the worst monster hunting me.
- Writer
