Chapter Four: Terms of Survival
1820 Words
The door handle stops rattling.
Silence settles again—but not the safe kind.
The kind that waits.
I didn’t answer him.
Not yet.
My fingers tightens around the phone, Valentina’s message still glowing against my palm like a threat with perfect posture.
If you’re smart, you’ll try to run.
If you’re lucky, you won’t succeed.
My pulse pounds against my throat.
On the other side of the door, Alessandro’s voice lowers.
“Aria.”
Not raised.
Not angry.
Worse.
Controlled.
“I know you’re awake.”
Of course he does.
There’s probably a camera hidden somewhere in this gilded cage watching whether I breathe too loudly.
I glanced toward the ceiling automatically.
Nothing obvious.
That doesn’t mean anything.
The door doesn’t unlock.
He doesn’t force his way in.
Instead—
“I’m going to open this,” he says calmly, “and you are not going to do anything reckless.”
My heart jumps.
A soft click.
The lock disengages.
The door opens slowly.
Alessandro steps inside alone.
No guards.
No weapons visible.
That doesn’t make him less dangerous.
If anything—
It makes him more so.
He closes the door behind him.
The lock clicks again.
My back straightens automatically.
“I thought dinner was in fifteen minutes,” I said dryly.
His gaze drops briefly to the phone in my hand.
“Did you receive a message?”
Straight to it.
Of course.
“Maybe,” I replied.
His eyes darken slightly.
“From Valentina.”
Not a question.
A statement.
I tilt my head.
“You two really need to work on your internal communication.”
He steps closer—not invading, just enough to make the air shift.
“What did she say?”
“Why?” I shoot back. “Afraid she’s recruiting?”
A pause.
Then—
“Yes.”
That answer hits harder than denial.
I blinked.
“You’re serious?”
“She does not make idle contact,” he said quietly.
I studied him carefully.
This isn’t performance.
This is calculation.
“She told me to run,” I admitted.
His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.
“And?”
“And that if I’m lucky, I won’t succeed.”
Silence stretches.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
For the first time since I’ve known him—
Alessandro looks genuinely displeased.
Not angry.
Concerned.
“That was intentional,” he said slowly.
“Obviously.”
“She wants to see what you’ll do.”
I folded my arms.
“Why?”
“Because,” he replies, “Valentina tests weaknesses by creating them.”
My stomach twists.
“So I’m her new experiment, huh?”
“You are a variable,” he corrects.
“How comforting.”
He ignores the sarcasm.
“Did you consider it?”
“Running?”
“Yes.”
I glanced toward the sealed window.
Toward the locked door.
Toward the guards I can almost feel beyond the walls.
“Did you kidnap me into Fort Knox or a museum exhibit?”
His mouth almost—almost—twitches.
“There are exits.”
That gets my attention.
“Conveniently unlocked ones?”
“No.”
Of course not.
I stepped closer.
“If I run,” I said quietly, “she kills me?”
His gaze holds mine.
“If you run,” he replies, “she proves I made a mistake keeping you alive.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is the only one that matters.”
My pulse spikes.
“You said you’d stop her.”
“I said,” he corrects, voice lowering, “that she won’t act without consequence.”
That is not the same thing.
At all.
“You’re not as in control as you pretend,” I said softly.
A pause.
Then—
“No,” Alessandro said.
The honesty hits like a slap.
“I control what I can.”
“And what can’t you?”
His eyes flicks toward the door.
Then back to me.
“Internal politics,” he said.
Oh.
So that’s what this is.
Not just mafia theatrics.
Power fractures.
Shifting loyalties.
“And I’m caught in the middle,” I muttered.
“Yes.”
“Fantastic.”
I turned away from him, pacing toward the window.
My reflection stares back.
Pale.
Eyes too sharp.
Still breathing.
Barely.
“Why tell me this?” I asked.
“You’re observant,” he replied. “You would figure it out.”
“So you’re saving time?”
“I’m giving you information.”
“That sounds suspiciously like trust.”
“It is a strategy.”
Of course it is.
I pressed my palm against the glass.
Cold.
Unmoving.
“You said dinner,” I reminded him.
“I did.”
“And then you told me to go back to my room.”
“You were not meant to overhear that conversation.”
“So now I lose food privileges?”
“You lose privacy privileges,” he corrects.
I laughed quietly.
“Oh good. I was worried this night was getting too comfortable.”
Behind me—
Footsteps.
He stops just short of touching me.
“I did not bring you here to starve you.”
“Great,” I muttered. “Bare minimum kidnapper etiquette.”
“Aria.”
My name is softer this time.
I turned.
He’s closer than I expected.
Eyes steady.
Watching me like I’m a chess piece he hasn’t decided how to use.
“You will eat,” he said. “With me.”
That sounds less like kindness—
More like surveillance.
“What’s the catch this time?” I asked.
“There is no catch.”
“There’s always a catch.”
A pause.
Then—
“You will not bring the phone.”
My fingers tighten reflexively around it.
“Why?”
“Because,” he said calmly, “Valentina is attempting to create division.”
“She already has.”
“Not yet.”
I hold his gaze.
“And if I refuse?”
“You won’t.”
“Try me.”
Another pause.
The air between us thickens.
Then—
“You are hungry,” he said quietly.
Damn him.
My stomach betrays me with a small, humiliating twist.
He noticed.
Of course, he noticed.
“I hate that you’re right,” I muttered.
“I know.”
He gestures toward the door.
“Leave the phone.”
I hesitated.
Valentina’s message still burns into my thoughts.
Run.
Test.
Trap.
Slowly—
I placed the phone on the bed.
His gaze tracks the movement.
Not relieved.
Calculating.
“Good,” he said.
The door unlocks.
He opens it.
This time—
He waits for me to step through first.
I didn’t miss the symbolism.
I walked past him into the hallway.
The air feels colder than before.
Long corridor.
Muted lights.
No guards visible.
Which means they’re definitely here.
Watching.
Always watching.
We walked in silence.
Our footsteps echo softly.
Left turn.
Right.
Another long stretch.
“You memorized the turns,” Alessandro said suddenly.
Not a question.
I didn’t look at him.
“Numbers helped.”
“They also make escape possible.”
“Planning ahead is healthy.”
His voice lowers.
“Planning incorrectly is fatal.”
I stopped walking.
Turn to face him.
“Then tell me the correct plan.”
A pause.
He studies me.
“Survive.”
“That’s not a plan.”
“It is the only priority.”
I exhaled slowly.
“Is this where you tell me to trust you?”
“No.”
That surprises me.
“I am telling you,” he continues, “to understand that not everyone in this house wants you alive.”
“Starting with your friend in the suit.”
“She is not my friend.”
“What is she?”
A long pause.
“Necessary.”
That word lands heavy.
We resumed walking.
At the end of the corridor—
Double doors.
Dark wood.
Closed.
Two guards stand on either side.
They stepped aside immediately when they saw him.
The doors opened.
Inside—
A dining room large enough to host a royal funeral.
Long table.
Polished black surface.
Only two place settings.
Of course.
Candles burn low.
Soft light flickers.
Controlled.
Intimate.
Terrifying.
I stepped inside slowly.
The doors closed behind us with a deep, final thud.
No windows.
No visible exits.
My chest tightens.
Alessandro pulls out a chair.
“Sit.”
I hesitated—
Then I sat down.
Because fainting from hunger would be deeply embarrassing.
He sits across from me.
A server appears silently.
Plates are placed.
Food smells—
Amazing.
My stomach twists again.
“You can eat,” Alessandro said.
I picked up the fork.
Pause.
“You’re not worried I’ll stab you with this?”
His mouth curves slightly.
“If you intended to,” he said, “you would have already.”
Fair.
I took a bite.
Warm.
Rich.
Real food.
I almost hate how good it tastes.
Silence stretches as we ate.
Not peaceful.
Measured.
Then—
Alessandro speaks quietly.
“Valentina will escalate.”
I froze mid-bite.
“How?”
“She will test your limits.”
“Meaning?”
Before he can answer—
The lights flicker.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
Goes out.
Darkness slams into the room.
My breath catches.
Somewhere—
A chair scrapes.
Not mine.
Not his.
A voice speaks from the darkness.
Smooth.
Familiar.
Amused.
“I do love dramatic timing.”
Valentina.
Ice floods my veins.
A soft click—
Emergency lights glow dim red.
She’s standing at the far end of the table.
She was not there before.
“How did you—”
I stopped.
Stupid question.
Her gaze locks on me.
Smiling.
“I told you I’d be watching.”
Alessandro stands slowly.
Dangerously calm.
“You were not invited.”
Valentina shrugs.
“I rarely wait for permission.”
Her eyes flicked down—
To my plate.
“You’re feeding her now?”
“Leave,” Alessandro said.
“No.”
Her smile sharpens.
“I think it’s time we test just how valuable she really is.”
My pulse slams.
“What does that mean?” I demanded.
Valentina reaches into her jacket—
And placed something gently on the table.
Between us.
Metal.
Small.
Black.
A gun.
My breath stops.
“Simple,” she said pleasantly.
Her gaze moves between me and Alessandro.
“You said she’s an asset.”
Her finger taps the weapon lightly.
“Prove it.”
The room goes deathly still.
“Choose,” Valentina continues softly.
“Her life—”
Her eyes flick to Alessandro.
“—or your leverage.”
My stomach drops.
Alessandro doesn’t move.
Doesn’t speak nor blink.
Valentina smiles wider.
“Clock’s ticking.”
And at that moment
I realized this dinner was never meant to end with dessert.
- Writer
