OWNED BY THE DON

CHAPTER 15 - FREEDOM IN THE FORTRESS

The next morning, the air in the mansion was different. Fabio was no longer the cold jailer; he became a shadow, an omnipresent force of protection that Rachel felt even when he wasn't in the room.

When she woke, she didn't find him in bed, but she found a small, velvet box on his pillow. Inside was a delicate platinum necklace with a single, flawless diamond—not a collar, but a gift. Beside it was a note in his sharp, elegant script: “The garden is yours today. No guards will follow you. Just breathe.”

He was giving her the one thing he had sworn never to let go — freedom.

As she walked through the sprawling estate gardens, she noticed the change. The guards were still there, but they stood far back in the trees, their eyes scanning the perimeter for external threats rather than watching her movements. Fabio had shifted his entire security apparatus. He wasn't guarding a prisoner anymore; he was guarding a treasure.

Later that afternoon, she found him in the library, standing by the window. When he saw her enter, he didn't command her to sit. He simply held out a hand, his eyes softened by the secret he now carried.

“I’ve settled the final accounts with your father,” Fabio said, his voice low and steady.

“He is being sent to a private estate in Italy. He will never bother you again. You are no longer a debt, Rachel. You are a Romano, and in this house, that name carries the same weight as mine.”

He stepped closer, his thumb grazing her jaw—avoiding the bruise, which was now a faint, fading yellow. “I heard you had a restless night,” he murmured, his gaze searching hers, his voice thick with the hidden knowledge of her confession. “I want to make sure your days are better.”

The protectiveness was suffocating, but in a way that made her feel cherished rather than trapped. He began to anticipate her needs before she spoke them, surrounding her with her favorite flowers, books she had mentioned in passing to Lucia, and a silence that felt like a sanctuary.

That evening, Lucia gave Rachel a tour of the house. It was massive, less of a mansion and more of a private fortress, boasting over twenty rooms, a private lounge, a theater, a gym, and a sprawling pool.

“God... this isn't a mansion anymore, Lucia,” Rachel said, her voice trailing off in awe.

“I told you. You have everything you need here,” Lucia replied with a smile. “The kitchen is my favorite, though. I used to hang out there with Enzo all the time.”

“Enzo? Who’s that?”

“Don Fabio’s underboss,” Lucia explained.

As they walked, Rachel’s eyes caught a door at the far end of the north wing. It was slightly ajar, as if someone had just slipped inside. Drawn to it, she began to walk down the hall.

“What’s this room?” Rachel asked.

“Just a guest room,” Lucia answered, following close behind.

They stepped inside, but before Rachel could take it in, Lucia’s phone buzzed. “It’s Enzo. I have to take this... I’ll be right back.”

Left alone, Rachel felt a sudden chill. The room was dark and unnervingly cold. As she explored the shadows, her eyes landed on a framed photograph of a beautiful woman. The moment her fingers brushed the glass, a vision tore through her mind.

The air grew heavy with the scent of burning rubber and ozone. She saw the woman—radiant, her hand resting protectively over a prominent baby bump—walking toward a classic black sedan. Rachel’s vision shifted to the undercarriage of the car. A shadow moved. A hand holding a wrench expertly severed the brake line. The woman drove off, smiling. Minutes later, the screech of tires on gravel. The car plummeted, tumbling into a dark, jagged ravine. "Help..." the woman’s voice was a wet, broken sob.

Rachel gasped, her lungs burning as she snapped back to reality. She was still in the guest room, the photograph trembling in her hands while her mind raced with questions. Who was that woman?

A floorboard creaked, and Rachel jumped as Lucia stepped back into the room.

“Rachel, I have to head out,” Lucia said, a wide, playful smile on her face. “Are you coming, or do you want to keep playing Dora the Explorer?”

Rachel let out a breath, trying to steady herself. “Where to?”

“The kitchen. I need a snack.”

They both laughed, the tension in the room breaking for a moment. “I thought for sure we were heading to the dungeon next,” Rachel joked.

Lucia’s smile faltered just a fraction. “You wouldn’t like it down there,” she warned, her tone surprisingly serious.

Rachel nodded slowly, a chill lingering on her skin. She took one last look at the woman in the photo before turning to follow Lucia out into the hall.