Chapter Eight – A Devil with a Soft Touch
1063 Words
He is cruel. He is merciless. He is my captor.
But for a fleeting moment, he is something else.
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My wrists ache from the tight grip Luca had on me as he dragged me through the endless halls of the mansion. Every corridor is dimly lit, the chandeliers casting eerie shadows on the walls. It feels like walking deeper into my own grave.
But then, unexpectedly, we stop in front of a massive wooden door. It’s different from the others—not as cold or foreboding. Luca doesn’t say anything as he pushes it open and shoves me inside.
I stumble forward, expecting another dark prison, but—
It’s… beautiful.
Warm lighting, a grand fireplace crackling softly, a massive bed covered in silk sheets. The air smells faintly of lavender, calming yet suffocating. The space is luxurious, but nothing in here belongs to me.
It’s another gilded cage.
The door locks behind me with a sharp click. I whirl around, yanking at the handle, but it doesn’t budge. My stomach tightens.
I’m still trapped.
My fingers curl into fists. I don’t know how long I stand there, but eventually, exhaustion seeps into my bones. The adrenaline fades, replaced by the weight of my reality. My sister’s life is still hanging by a thread, and I am—
His.
The thought makes my skin crawl.
I press my forehead against the cold wood, swallowing back the lump in my throat. Don’t cry. Not here. Not now.
But then—
The door suddenly unlocks.
Before I can react, it swings open, revealing Leonardo Moretti standing in the doorway.
He looks different.
Gone is the sharp, tailored suit. Instead, he’s wearing black sweatpants and a fitted black t-shirt, his dark hair slightly tousled, as if he just ran his fingers through it. He looks… relaxed.
But his eyes still hold that same deadly gleam.
A slow smirk tugs at his lips. “Miss me already, little dove?”
I glare at him. “What do you want?”
Leo steps inside, shutting the door behind him. “Can’t a man check on his prized possession?”
I grit my teeth. “I am not your possession.”
His smirk only deepens. “You keep saying that. But actions speak louder than words, sweetheart.”
He strolls past me like he owns the place—because he does.
Leo moves toward the bed, sitting on the edge, watching me with something unreadable in his gaze. Then, to my shock, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, looking… frustrated?
It’s the first time I’ve seen any emotion on his face that isn’t amusement or menace.
I hesitate, unsure. “What?”
He exhales, leaning back on his elbows. “You’re exhausting.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
Leo shakes his head. “You fight so hard, every second. Always thrashing, always snarling.” He tilts his head. “Doesn’t it tire you?”
I stiffen. “I’d rather die fighting than live as your pet.”
His lips twitch. “Dramatic as always.”
I fold my arms. “Is there a reason you’re here? Or are you just trying to annoy me to death?”
Leo chuckles, then—he does something unexpected.
He pats the space beside him on the bed.
I stare at him like he’s lost his mind. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
“I’m not sitting next to you.”
Leo shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He shifts, leaning back against the pillows, looking utterly relaxed. His eyes flick to mine. “But if you’re going to keep glaring at me, at least come closer. I don’t bite.”
A dry laugh escapes me. “That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard.”
His grin is lazy. “Fine. I bite a little.”
I roll my eyes and move to the opposite side of the room, keeping as much distance as possible.
Leo watches me, his amusement dimming slightly. Then, after a long pause, he says, “You like tea?”
I blink. “…What?”
He gestures toward the tray on the bedside table. A pot of steaming tea sits there, along with two cups. “I had it made for you.”
I don’t move. “Why?”
Leo sighs, rubbing his temple. “Because, Alee, you haven’t eaten anything all day, and I’d rather not have my little captive passing out on me.”
Something twists in my stomach.
I hate that the smallest act of consideration catches me off guard. But it does.
Leo doesn’t wait for my response. He pours a cup and extends it toward me.
I hesitate. “You could have poisoned it.”
His laughter is rich and deep. “Sweetheart, if I wanted you dead, you’d already be in the ground.”
A chill runs down my spine.
I shouldn’t take it. I should throw it in his face. But my throat is dry, and my head is pounding.
So, against my better judgment, I reach out and take the cup.
Leo watches me, his gaze flickering to my lips as I take a careful sip. The tea is warm, floral, and unexpectedly soothing.
I lower the cup, unsettled. “You’re confusing.”
His lips twitch. “How so?”
I gesture vaguely. “You lock me up, threaten me, treat me like property—but then you bring me tea?”
Leo tilts his head. “You think I’m a monster.”
“Aren’t you?”
For a moment, he says nothing. Then, with a slow, dangerous smile, he leans forward. “I suppose that depends on how well you behave.”
The tension in the air thickens.
I grip the teacup tighter. “You’re insane.”
Leo chuckles, standing up. “And yet, you’re still here.”
My jaw clenches. “Not by choice.”
He walks toward the door, pausing only to glance at me over his shoulder. His voice is softer this time, almost gentle—a sharp contrast to the man I met in the basement.
“Get some rest, Alee.”
Then, just like that, he’s gone.
I sit there, staring at the closed door, my heart a tangled mess.
Because for the first time since this nightmare started—
Leo Moretti didn’t feel like the devil.
He felt human.
- Writer
