Chapter Six – When the Devil Smiles
547 Words
The door slammed shut behind her.
Alessia leaned against the cold wall of the hallway, heart hammering. Her skin still tingled where his breath had ghosted over her ear. The red room. The cuffs. The way he had looked at her—not with lust, not even with anger.
With possession.
She had seen something in him today that terrified her more than the chains on the wall: restraint. That meant he could’ve done anything… but chose not to.
And that choice, somehow, was worse.
He won’t forget this, she thought, walking quickly back toward the guest wing—and he won’t forgive it either.
When she returned to her room, the tray of untouched breakfast had been replaced by a single silver box.
No note.
No warning.
Just the box.
With trembling hands, she opened it. Inside lay a black dress, elegant and dangerously short, with a deep neckline and delicate lace sleeves. Beside it—matching stilettos. Gloss-black. Ruthless.
No instructions, but the message was clear:
Tonight, she belonged to him.
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By nightfall, Alessia stood in front of the mirror, barely recognizing the girl staring back. The dress hugged her curves like a second skin. Her hair had been curled into soft waves, makeup subtle but deadly. Red lips. Black liner. No innocence left in sight.
The guards came for her right before midnight.
They didn’t speak. They only led her through the west wing—one she hadn’t seen before—until they reached a spiral staircase. Down. Down. Down.
A grand hall waited at the bottom, glowing gold under the crystal chandeliers. A long dining table stretched across the room, but only one seat was occupied.
His.
Lorenzo De Luca.
Black suit. Open collar. No tie. No mercy.
He looked up as she entered and smiled.
Not the teasing smirk he often wore, but something colder. Darker. As if her trespass into the red room had earned her a different version of him tonight.
“Sit,” he said, voice like velvet and venom.
She obeyed.
The silence between them throbbed with tension. The servants poured wine. Set plates.
But Alessia couldn’t eat. Not when he kept watching her like that.
Like a meal.
“So,” he said eventually, swirling his glass, “you decided to test my boundaries.”
She didn’t respond.
He leaned forward. “You want to understand me, don’t you?”
Alessia met his gaze. “I want to understand why you hate me.”
That caught him off guard. Just for a second.
“I don’t hate you,” he said calmly. “If I did, you’d be gone.”
“Then what is this?” she asked, gesturing around the room, the guards, the mansion.
“A transaction,” he replied. “You’re not here because of who you are. You’re here because of who I am.”
“And who are you, Lorenzo?”
He smiled again.
That smile.
It wasn’t charming. It wasn’t warm.
It was the smile of a devil who had just found his next sin.
“I’m the man who owns your freedom now.”
And in that moment, Alessia realized—he wasn’t angry because she’d entered his world.
He was angry because, despite everything, he wanted her there.
- Writer
