Chapter 5
1317 Words
CHAPTER FIVE
ESCAPING THE DEVIL
~MATTEO’S POV~
The call was urgent. Urgent enough to pull me from my waiting virgin bride.
I had plans for tonight. Dark ones. Personal ones. Plans to make her remember who she married, who she belonged to.
But power always came first.
“Don’t move,” I said coldly, eyes locking on Cassie. She stood frozen, lips parted in fear, the braveness she’d worn like armor earlier now slipping like silk off her skin.
She didn’t respond. Good.
I turned from her, slow and deliberate, and moved toward the door. The moment it clicked shut behind me, I answered the call.
“Senator Bianchi,” I said flatly, lighting a cigarette with one hand. “I assume you’re calling because your name is back in circulation.”
His breath hitched on the other end. Weak. Predictable.
“Matteo…..listen, I had nothing to do with that leak…”
“I don’t care.” I exhaled smoke into the hallway air, watching it curl like a warning.
“You had one job. Keep the customs board asleep while I moved the port licenses. Instead, there’s heat. And if there’s heat, there’s attention. And if there’s attention, someone burns.”
“Please,” he said, his voice tight. “You don’t understand. They’re investigating everyone. Even the judge….”
I cut him off. “The judge wouldn’t say a word. Not unless he wants his daughter’s rehab records on the front page of La Repubblica.”
Silence.
I smiled. Just a little.
“Now, Senator,” I continued, voice lowering, colder, slower, “you will push through the trade route approval this week. You will keep the press quiet. And you will make sure my name never comes out of your mouth again. Or your wife’s next campaign event will be interrupted by a recording of your call-girl sobbing over the abortion you paid for last spring. Do we understand each other?”
He didn’t answer immediately. That was fine.
Fear takes a second to settle in. Finally, he choked out, “Yes. We understand.”
I ended the call without another word. Nico was already waiting by the stairs when I stepped back inside, his usual grin replaced by something more serious.
“Handled?” he asked.
“For now,” I muttered. And then I glanced at the master bedroom door. Still shut. Still silent.
I unlocked the door and stepped inside, expecting to find her sitting on the bed, maybe, if she had any sense at all, laying there naked to make the night easy for me.
But the room was empty.
Still. Quiet. Too quiet. I took a step back out into the hall, my eyes drifting to the left, scanning the long corridor.
Nico appeared around the corner, his pace casual, but he wasn’t stupid. He must’ve sensed something was off. He moved closer.
I stopped him with a hand.
Empty or not, it was still my bedroom. The room I might end up sharing with her—for better or worse. Letting my right hand walk into that space would chip at something I wasn’t ready to admit I gave a damn about.
I reached for the doorknob again, twisting it hard. It turned without resistance.
Fuck.
I hadn’t locked it. I ran a hand through my hair, jaw tightening.
“She wants to play,” I muttered under my breath, a dark laugh curling in my throat. Then louder: “Get the car ready. Comb the mansion. Seems my little bird thinks hide-and-seek is still a game worth playing.”
Nico nodded once, already pulling out his phone to alert the guards. As I stepped back inside, I caught the faint trace of her perfume still lingering in the air.
Sweet. Soft. A scent I planned to suffocate with my own.
“She ran.”
The words came from Nico as he approached my car, his tone too calm for the message he delivered.
I swear I almost laughed. But i didn't respond. Just stare through the windshield, jaw clenched tight.
Of course, she ran.
She was Cassie Romano, spirited, stubborn, and still naive enough to think the world cared about good intentions. That her fear gave her some kind of immunity.
That love, whatever she thought it was, could still save her from this life.
I stepped out of the car, blood still pounding in my ears from the earlier meeting. “Where?”
Nico handed me her discarded flats. “North trail. She was barefoot. Probably didn’t get far.”
Good. I didn’t want to go far. I wanted her to be scared. I wanted her to understand who she married.
~CASSIE’S POV~
My heart would not stop beating fast. Every footstep echoed like a death sentence in my ears as I squatted behind the tall Armoire in one of the unused guest rooms.
The silk of my night gown, the one I had been forced to wear by the head maid, clung to my skin, wet with sweat.
I was not dressed for escape. I was not prepared for this, but the moment Matteo had stepped out of the room to answer his phone call.
I ran.
Because staying would have broken me in ways, I didn't even understand yet. I hate the man. How can I live with such a person?
The mansion was a labyrinth; marble floors, towering doors, hallways that looked identical no matter how far I ran.
I managed to slip into the first room that was not locked, my hand shaking as I pulled the door shut behind me.
No key, no lock from the inside, only a thin wall between me and the man haunting me.
I have seen the look in Matteo’s Eyes. I knew what he wanted from me. What he thought he was owed. My body shivered just by thinking about it.
The kiss at the Altar was a warning, a preview of what the night would be. I couldn't give him that. I would not.
A noise in the hallway snapped me back to the present. I could hear voices, low, sharp, male. They were searching. He was searching.
Footsteps hurried. I could hear it clearer, closer now. I slapped my hand over my mouth to stop the sob that climbed my throat. Tears blurred my vision.
I should have stayed in the damn room, endured it, survived it. God, I have survived the worst. But i couldn't let him take that from me, not without a fight.
The door handle creaked. He was here. I closed my eyes and backed farther into the shadow of the Armoire, trying to shrink myself invisible.
“You're good,” his voice drifted into the room. Calm. Controlled. Cold. “I'll give you that.”
I didn’t move. Didn't breathe.
“But not good enough.”
The doors yanked open. He stood there, eyes fixed on me, like he already knew I'd be there. Like this was just a game and I’d finally lost my round.
His hand shot out, wrapping around my wrist. The grip wasn’t bruising, but it was steady.
He pulled me out with ease, like I weighed nothing at all. You could’ve screamed, Cassie. You should’ve fought.
But I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
There was something about the look in his eyes—like I wasn’t a person anymore, just something he owned. Something he was going to discipline.
“You were doing so well,” he said quietly, as if he admired the effort. As if he were impressed.
But I could feel it under his tone:The warning, the promise.
“You even had me wondering.”
I couldn’t speak. I could barely breathe. His fingers tightened slightly on my wrist—not enough to hurt. Just enough to remind me that I was his now.
And he would never let me forget it.
- Writer
