Chapter 2 — House Rules
1457 Words
The black car door closed with a sound that felt too final.
For something so stupid and simple.
Bella didn’t get in right away.
She just stood there on the curb. Rain soaking straight through her jacket. Watching the world keep going like nothing was wrong.
Some woman rushed by with an umbrella. Some guy was shouting into his phone.
Somewhere a bike bell rang.
Normal life. Still happening.
Just not hers anymore.
Behind her, one of Vincenzo’s men opened the back door again.
Didn’t grab her. Didn’t rush her.
Just stood there. Patient. Like he already knew she was going to get in eventually.
Bella turned a little.
Vincenzo was a few steps back. Hands in his pocket. Suit getting dark with rain.
He wasn’t looking at her like prey.
And that was worse.
He was looking at her like... a problem he had to deal with.
Like a responsibility.
`"You don’t have to be scared of the car," he said. Flat. Even.`
`"I’m not afraid of the car," she snapped.`
He went quiet for a second.
Then, quieter: “Then what are you afraid of?”
That pissed her off.
Because he actually sounded like he wanted to know.
Bella looked at him. Real looked.
Not the rumors.
Not the name everyone whispered.
Just him.
He looked way too calm to be the kind of man her dad owed millions to. Too put together. Too careful. Nothing about him felt random.
God, that just made her skin crawl.
"I hate men who think they get to decide everything for me," she said.
Vincenzo nodded. Just once.
Like he was writing it down in his head.
“That is understandable.”
Not an argument.
Not a denial.
Just... agreement.
Somehow that was worse.
Bella let out a breath and got in the car.
It was quiet inside. The kind of quiet that costs money. Leather seats. Soft lights. Didn’t smell like anything. Like they’d cleaned all the air out before she got in.
Vincenzo got in after her.
Didn’t sit too close.
Didn’t sit too far.
Just... sat. And somehow the space didn’t matter.
The car started moving.
Bella turned to the window immediately.
Her dad was still standing at the building entrance.
Not moving.
Not calling out.
Just watching.
That hurt more than she thought it would.
The city blurred past. Wet streets. Lights all smeared.
After a few minutes she spoke without looking at him.
“So what now? You take me somewhere and I just disappear?”
“No,” Vincenzo said.
“That’s comforting.”
“You will not disappear.”
She laughed. It sounded awful. “Depends what you mean by disappear.”
A pause.
“You will remain visible,” he said. “You will be safe.”
“Safe,” she repeated. “From what? My own life?”
He didn’t answer for a second.
She caught it. That tiny hesitation.
Her eyes flicked to him. “You don’t actually think I’m in danger, do you?”
“I think,” he said carefully, “that your presence in your current environment is no longer sustainable.”
“That’s a fancy way of saying I’m a problem.”
“It’s a factual way of saying your circumstances have changed.”
Bella shook her head. “No. My circumstances were my dad’s debt. That’s it.”
Vincenzo didn’t look away.
“There are always layers.”
“That sounds like something someone says right before they ruin your life.”
Silence.
Then, weirdly:
“I understand why you would interpret it that way.”
That threw her.
Because it wasn’t defensive.
It wasn’t dismissive.
It sounded like he’d actually thought about it.
The car turned onto a gated road.
Trees everywhere. Tall. Perfect. Like someone planted them on purpose.
Bella leaned forward. “Where are we going?”
“My estate,” he said.
She turned her head fast. “Your what?”
“The Conti estate.”
Of course it had a name.
She crossed her arms. “So I’m being moved from my house to your house. And that’s not a prison?”
“It is not a prison.”
“People always say that about prisons.”
He didn’t react to that.
Just added, calm: “You will have your own space. Your own room. You will not be restricted unnecessarily.”
“Unnecessarily.”
“Yes.”
Bella stared at him.
That word again. Chosen on purpose. Like everything with him.
The car slowed.
Huge gates opened by themselves. Long driveway. Stone. Dark trees.
And the house...
It wasn’t a fortress.
It was worse.
It looked like the kind of place that never had to explain itself to anyone.
The car stopped.
The door opened.
Rain hit her face the second she stepped out.
A woman in a dark uniform was waiting. Hands folded.
“Carmela,” Vincenzo said.
The woman nodded. Then looked at Bella.
Not mean.
Not nice.
Just... measuring her.
“This way,” Carmela said.
Bella didn’t move.
Vincenzo stepped out behind her. Rain sliding down his suit. Just watching her hesitate.
“You said I wouldn’t be restricted,” Bella said.
“You are not restricted,” he replied.
“Then why does it feel like I am?”
He paused.
Then, softer: “Because your life has been interrupted.”
Interrupted.
Like that made it sound smaller than it was.
Bella looked past him at the house.
“You don’t even know me.”
Vincenzo met her eyes.
“No,” he agreed.
“But I know what I was asked to protect.”
Protect.
Not own.
Not control.
Protect.
She didn’t know what to do with that.
Carmela cleared her throat. “Miss Rossi, your room is prepared.”
“My room,” Bella repeated. Flat.
“Yes.”
She looked at Vincenzo one more time.
He didn’t explain. Didn’t correct her.
That silence twisted her stomach.
Inside was too quiet. The hallways went on forever. Floors so shiny she saw herself in them. Servants walked past without staring, but she felt them looking anyway.
They all knew.
Carmela led her upstairs. Opened a door.
A room.
Not a jail cell.
Which was worse somehow.
Soft bed. Clean sheets. Open window. View of the grounds.
It looked comfortable.
Prepared.
Like they’d been expecting her.
Bella stepped in slow. “This is mine?”
“For now,” Carmela said.
For now.
That again.
Carmela left.
Bella stood there listening to the rain and the weird silence of a place that wasn’t hers.
Minutes later, a soft knock.
She didn’t answer.
The door opened a little anyway.
Vincenzo.
Not coming in.
He just stood there.
“I am not here to disturb you,” he said.
“Then why are you here?”
“To ensure you have what you need.”
“I need to go home.”
“That is not possible tonight.”
Her jaw clenched. “You keep saying that like it’s normal.”
“They are consequences,” he said. Simple.
Bella stepped closer to the door. “You talk like I agreed to this.”
“You did not.”
“Then why am I here?”
He held her gaze longer this time.
Not cold.
Just... unreadable in a different way.
“Because your presence is required until further notice.”
Bella laughed. No humor in it. “Further notice. That’s what my life is now?”
He went quiet for a second.
Then: “You are not in danger here.”
“That’s what every dangerous place says.”
Another pause.
Then he did something she didn’t expect.
He looked at her. Not like a duty. Like she was actually a person.
“If you are hungry,” he said, “food will be brought.”
"I’m not hungry," Bella said. She frowned.
She lied.
Her stomach growled right then.
He heard it. Of course he did.
But he didn’t say anything.
Just: “Rest.”
Then he closed the door. Softly.
Not locked.
Just closed.
Bella stood there for a long time. Listening to the quiet.
Footsteps down the hall. Guards. People she didn’t know.
She went to the window.
Past the gates, her old life was still out there somewhere.
But it felt really really far away now.
And downstairs, somewhere she couldn’t see—
Vincenzo Conti was still in the same house as her.
Not watching her like a prisoner.
Not like a hero.
Like someone keeping a promise she didn’t know about yet.
That night, trying to sleep, she heard two guards outside her door whisper:
“If she leaves this estate… she’ll be dead before sunrise.”
- Writer
