OWNED BY THE DON

CHAPTER 9 - BURNING

Fabio spent the night pacing, haunted by an unfamiliar unease. As dawn broke, he summoned Lucia, a young maid with a gentle touch, and ordered her to take a tray of food to the underground chamber.

When Lucia slipped into the cold room, she found Rachel curled into a tight ball, her body racking with violent tremors.

“Miss Romano? Oh, heavens... you're burning up,” Lucia whispered, rushing to her side and pressing a hand to Rachel’s forehead.

“Wh... who are you?” Rachel’s voice was a dry rasp, her eyes fluttering open with effort.

“I’m Lucia. I’m a maid here,” the girl said softly, helping Rachel sit up against the damp stone wall. The heat radiating off Rachel was alarming. “I have to tell the Don. I have to tell Fabio.”

“No!” Rachel’s hand shot out, gripping Lucia’s wrist with surprising strength for someone so weak. “Don't you dare tell that monster.”

“But Miss Romano, you’re sick. I can’t leave you here like this without medicine... Don Fabio will have my head if he finds out I kept this from him.”

“He’s a monster, Lucia,” Rachel hissed, her teeth chattering. “A beast in a suit.”

“He might be a monster to the world,” Lucia said quietly, her eyes pleading. “But he is good to the people in this house. He protects us.”

Rachel looked at her with hollow, surprised eyes. “He’s a killer! How can you defend him?”

“He kills when he has to,” Lucia whispered, glancing at the door.

“I’m telling you this as a friend, stop fighting him, Miss Romano. He has never looked at anyone the way he looks at you. He cares for you, in his own dark way. Don't let your pride kill you before he has a chance to show you.”

The air in the chamber was damp and frigid, a stark contrast to the heat radiating off Rachel’s skin. Lucia’s eyes filled with pity as she watched the girl she had heard so much about—the girl who had managed to rattle the untouchable Fabio Castellano.

“He cares for you,” Lucia repeated softly, dipping a cloth into a bowl of cool water she’d hidden under the tray. She pressed it to Rachel’s forehead.

“I have worked for the Castellanos since I was sixteen. I have seen him send men to their graves without blinking. But last night... I saw him pacing the hall outside this door for three hours. He didn't sleep. He didn't even take off his coat.”

Rachel let out a dry, hacking laugh that turned into a wince as her bruised stomach muscles protested. “He... he hit me, Lucia. He threw me in a hole. That isn’t care. That’s ownership.”

“In his world, they are the same thing,” Lucia whispered, glancing nervously at the heavy iron door.

“He is a man of absolute control. When you ran, you took that control away. He reacted like a King whose crown was stolen. It doesn't justify it, but... he is spiraling, Miss Romano. He is terrified of his own feelings for you.”

Rachel closed her eyes, the fever making the room spin. The image of Fabio’s face—not the monster who punched her, but the man who had looked at her with such haunting regret on the bridge—flickered in her mind. It was a confusing, dangerous thought.

“Eat,” Lucia urged, holding a spoonful of broth to Rachel’s cracked lips. “Strength is your only weapon now. If you stay weak, you are just a victim. If you get strong, you can be his equal.”

Suddenly, the heavy bolts on the door groaned. Lucia scrambled to her feet, hiding the damp cloth behind her back.

The door swung open, and Fabio’s silhouette filled the frame. He had changed into a fresh shirt, but his eyes were bloodshot, and the lines around his mouth were deep. He looked at Lucia, then his gaze dropped to Rachel, who was shivering so hard the thin mattress was vibrating.

He stepped into the room, and the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. He didn't say a word to Lucia; he simply pointed to the door. Lucia bowed her head and hurried out, leaving the two of them in the suffocating silence of the cell.

Fabio walked to the edge of the bed. He looked down at her—at the pale, sweat-slicked skin and the dark bruise on her cheek that he had caused. He reached out a hand, his fingers trembling slightly as he moved to touch her hair.

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