CHAPTER 3: FIRST NIGHT IN THE DEVIL’S HOUSE
395 Words
The DeLuca estate didn’t look like a home.
It looked like a fortress pretending to be one.
Tall gates. Silent guards. Cameras she didn’t bother trying to count.
Elize stepped out of the car without waiting for the driver, her eyes scanning everything automatically.
Entry points.
Blind spots.
Patterns.
“You do that often?”
Luca’s voice came from behind her.
She didn’t turn.
“Do what?”
“Look at my house like you’re planning to break into it.”
Now she faced him.
“If I were planning that,” she said calmly, “you wouldn’t notice.”
Something unreadable crossed his face.
Approval?
Maybe.
“Good,” he said. “I don’t like boring people.”
Inside, the house was worse.
Not louder.
Not grander.
Just… controlled.
Everything in its place.
Everything intentional.
Just like him.
A woman approached them—elegant, sharp-eyed.
“Sofia,” Luca said. “This is Elize.”
Sofia DeLuca looked her over slowly.
Not friendly.
Not hostile.
Just… assessing.
“So this is the girl,” she said.
Elize met her gaze without flinching.
“And you are?”
A small smile touched Sofia’s lips.
“Careful,” Sofia said. “I might like you.”
“Don’t,” Luca cut in. “It complicates things.”
Elize almost smiled.
Almost.
“Your room is upstairs,” Luca said. “Third door on the left.”
She didn’t move.
“Anything else?” she asked.
He stepped closer again.
Close enough that his voice dropped.
“Yes.”
A pause.
Then—
“Don’t mistake distance for safety.”
Her eyes held his.
“And don’t mistake silence for weakness,” she replied.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Elize turned and walked away.
Not fast.
Not hesitant.
Controlled.
Always controlled.
But the second her door closed behind her, her composure cracked—just slightly.
Her hand moved quickly, reaching into her bag.
Pulling out a small, hidden phone.
She turned it on.
One message.
Unknown number.
But she already knew who it was.
Adrian Cole.
Her father.
The message was short.
Cold.
You’re in. Don’t fail me.
Elize stared at it for a long moment.
Then typed back:
I won’t.
But as she hit send, her reflection in the mirror caught her eye.
And for the first time—
There was doubt there.
- Writer
