"Bound to the Capo: The Valenti Secret"

2

THE GOLDEN CAGE

The hum of the black Maybach’s engine echoed softly as it glided down the deserted night road toward the outskirts of Lake Como. Inside the cramped, dimly lit cabin, the air felt so heavy that Alessia struggled to breathe.

Dante kept her pinned in the corner of the leather seat. His large hand remained coiled around her neck—not enough to choke, but tight enough to serve as a constant reminder of the absolute dominance that now shackled her life.

"Take your hand off me," Alessia hissed, struggling to keep her voice from trembling, even as her chest heaved with a volatile mix of fear and rage.

Dante didn't budge. His obsidian eyes were fixed intently on Alessia’s lips, which were bleeding from where she had bitten them. Instead of letting go, Dante’s thumb moved slowly, smearing a droplet of blood from the corner of her mouth across the skin of her neck.

"You are no longer just an ordinary art student walking freely through the corridors of Bocconi University, Alessia," Dante whispered, his voice raspy and searing. "You are an asset I have purchased. Every strand of your hair, every drop of your blood... belongs to Dante Moretti."

Alessia turned her face toward the window, refusing to grant the monster before her any satisfaction. She clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palms. Mother. I am doing this for Mom, she repeated to herself, trying to steel a heart that felt shattered.

The car finally pulled to a stop before a giant iron gate that swung open automatically. Villa di Pietra rose elegantly behind the night mist—a magnificent marble palace on the edge of the lake, yet to Alessia, it was nothing more than a lethal golden cage.

The car door was opened by an armed guard. Before Alessia could swing her legs out, Dante was already out, hauling her up by the arm with an iron grip, forcing her to stand.

"Walk," Dante commanded curtly.

Alessia gasped for air as she stepped out. Her body felt limp, her wrists were bruised from the ropes, and her simple dress was stained with the dust of the harbor warehouse. Yet, she refused to appear weak before the guards, who lined up in perfect formation, bowing their heads as Dante passed.

They crossed the vast main hall, with its Italian marble floors. Crystal chandeliers cast a light of luxury that felt chillingly cold. Dante led her—or rather, dragged her—toward a large room on the second floor.

CLICK!

Dante pushed the thick teak door wide open and shoved Alessia inside. She stumbled, falling to her knees on the expensive rug.

The room was vast, furnished with a kingsized bed, a large balcony overlooking Lake Como, and incredibly opulent decor. However, Alessia’s gaze locked onto a tall glass cabinet in the corner, displaying silk gowns and robes that were tailored exactly to her size.

This man had planned my kidnapping from the very beginning.

Alessia quickly scrambled to her feet, turning to face Dante, who stood casually in the doorway, lighting an expensive cigarette.

"What do you want from me, Don Moretti?" Alessia asked, her voice defiant as she crossed her arms over her chest to hide her trembling. "You burned my stepfather's debts, you threatened my mother’s life, and you locked me up here. If you want my body to satisfy your lust, do it now and let me go!"

Smoke curled thinly from Dante’s lips. He stepped inside, crushed his cigarette in a crystal ashtray, and approached Alessia with the predatory rhythm of a hunter.

Dante closed the distance between them until Alessia was backed against the bedpost. He rested one hand against the post, trapping her completely in his shadow.

"Satisfy my lust?" Dante chuckled lowly—a cold, humorless sound that made the hair on Alessia’s arms stand up. He leaned in, inhaling the scent of her skin, a mixture of paint thinner and pure terror.

"If I only wanted the body of a woman, I could hire hundreds of the most beautiful women in Europe tonight, Alessia," Dante whispered right by her ear. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "But you... you are different."

"What do you mean?" Alessia’s voice caught in her throat.

Dante stared into her Mediterranean eyes with a gaze that suddenly turned murky—a mixture of obsession, darkness, and the shadows of a past yet to be revealed.

"You will live in this villa. You will obey my every command," Dante declared, his voice hardening into an immovable mandate. "And never think about running away. Because if you step even one centimeter outside these gates without my permission..."

Dante left his sentence hanging. He pulled a small remote control from his suit pocket and pressed a button.

A large monitor on the wall flickered to life, displaying a live feed from an ICU room in a Milan hospital. There, Alessia’s mother lay weak, hooked up to various medical tubes. Two men in black suits stood guard outside the ICU door.

Alessia covered her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. "You... you cruel devil!"

Dante killed the monitor, then looked at Alessia mercilessly.

"The choice is yours, piccola tigre," Dante whispered hoarsely, catching her chin and pressing his thumb into her dimple. "Be obedient within my cage, or watch the world you love shatter into pieces."

Dante turned and walked out of the room. Before locking the door from the outside, he cast one final glance at Alessia, who stood trembling in the center of the room.

"Sweet dreams, Alessia. Tomorrow, your new life begins."

C L I C K.

The heavy wooden door was locked tight from the outside. Alessia sank to the cold marble floor, clenching her fingers tightly. In the silence of that luxurious yet suffocating room, Alessia swore in her heart: she would not let the devil named Dante Moretti destroy her soul without a fight.