Chapter Four
1237 Words
Aria had always known that Luca De Rossi was dangerous, but she never imagined that the price for her freedom would be so high.
Her world shattered when she heard the news. The sound of footsteps outside her door. The loud knock made her heart stop. When she opened the door, Francesca was standing there, her face pale as a ghost.
“Marco’s dead,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. “Luca... he... he killed him.”
Aria’s blood turned to ice. Her first instinct was to deny it. Marco had been reckless, yes, but he was her family. He was her stepbrother, and even though their relationship had been strained, he hadn’t deserved to die. No one deserved to die.
“How?” she asked, voice trembling.
Francesca shook her head. “There was a fight. Luca caught him making deals with the rival families. Luca... he didn’t spare him.”
Aria’s mind spun. She couldn’t process the weight of the words. Marco was dead. Luca had killed him. In her heart, a flicker of something dark ignited. She didn’t know whether it was rage or fear, but it was there. And it was growing.
Francesca left her then, and Aria was alone with her thoughts. But even in her grief, she knew there would be no mourning for Marco here. There would be no funeral, no moment of silence. His death would be buried with him, hidden in the shadows where everything else about Luca’s life lived.
She moved to the small window in her room and looked out. The estate was quiet, too quiet. She had never truly understood the power Luca wielded until now. She had never known how far he was willing to go to protect his empire.
But as the hours passed and the weight of the day settled over her, Aria realized something else: her family had already paid the price. Marco’s death was only the beginning. The De Rossi empire would not stop until her family was destroyed completely.
And she? She would be nothing but a pawn in his twisted game.
The realization hit her like a slap in the face. Luca wasn’t just her captor. He was her executioner, and her family’s executioner too.
But there was something else she understood now. Luca wasn’t the only one with power.
Aria was no longer a passive victim. She would make him pay for Marco’s death. She would make him regret ever crossing her.
She would fight, even if it meant going to war with the man who had once been her best friend.
The storm outside mirrored the one inside her.
Aria sat at the edge of the bed, her fingers curled tightly around the letter Marco had left behind. A single page creased, rushed, stained with what she couldn’t tell was water or tears. It was the last thing he ever wrote. She must have read it a hundred times since Francesca had slipped it under her door.
“If anything happens to me, it’s because I made the mistake of trusting Luca De Rossi. I did what I thought was right. I tried to survive. Forgive me, Aria. I never wanted this for you.”
Forgive him?
She clutched the page to her chest, drawing her knees-up like a child, but the tears didn’t come. They hadn’t in days. She was past grief now. Past disbelief. All that was left was fire burning slowly, deliberately, in the deepest parts of her. Although she was not close to her brother, he was still human.
And Luca?
He hadn’t spoken to her since the night Marco died. Not a word. Not a glance. He passed through the halls like a phantom, his silence more violent than any blow. He had broken her world into pieces and dared to walk away from the wreckage.
But tonight, she wouldn’t let him.
When the heavy knock came at her door, she was ready.
Luca stepped in, immaculate as ever in a dark jacket, his hair tousled by the wind. His expression was unreadable. The man who once told her bedtime stories now looked at her like she was a weapon. He didn’t know how to disarm.
“I heard you asked to see me,” he said.
“You killed him.”
He paused. “I did what I had to.”
“Was he a threat? No, he wasn’t,” she said with venom. “Even if he was, to whom? You or your empire?”
A flicker of something passed through his eyes, guilt, maybe. But he didn't answer.
“You think silence is power?” she asked, rising. “You think if you ignore me long enough, I’ll forget the brother I lost? The life you stole?”
“Marco betrayed you. He would’ve traded you like cattle to the Romano family.”
“And you think that makes you better?” she snapped. “You bought me like I was nothing. You paraded some other woman around in front of me. You locked me away and then destroyed my family.”
His voice was low. “Don’t compare me to him.”
“Why not? You’re both murderers. No, you are incomparable because you are worse. You are just a monster who is always hungry for blood.”
The silence stretched, heavy as stone.
He turned slightly, facing the rain-lashed window. “You were never supposed to be involved in this. Not like that.”
“Then let me go.”
He turned back sharply, his jaw clenched. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t.”
She laughed bitterly. “Of course you can’t. I am a trophy you got for defeating my father.”
His hands tightened into fists at his sides. “You don’t understand what’s coming. You think I’m the worst thing that could happen to you?”
“I know you are.”
For the first time, she saw something falter in him. His walls cracked, but only for a second.
“You want the truth?” he said quietly. Fine. I killed Marco because if I hadn’t, they would’ve killed him. He was selling your location, your habits, even the guard rotations. He knew what he was doing.”
Her stomach turned. “That was a lie. My brother would never do that. Stop finding excuses for your mistakes,” she half yelled.
“I was trying to protect you,” he said.
“By caging me?”
“I don’t know any other way.”
She stood there, trembling. For a moment, the air between them was thick with memories: olive groves in the countryside, whispered promises under the stars. Then it all turned to ash.
Aria reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, the copy she had made of the shipping ledgers from his study.
Luca’s eyes narrowed. “What is that?”
“Proof that even monsters have blind spots.”
She dropped it at his feet.
His gaze didn’t leave hers.
“I’m not afraid of you anymore, Luca,” she whispered. “And I’m done being a secret.”
She turned her back on him and walked to bed, her pulse roaring in her ears. Behind her, he didn’t move. Didn’t call her back.
But she felt his stare. She felt him unravel.
- Writer
