Luca

11 - A monster in my room

Sofia

Lorna arrived with my things. I was so happy to see her. Of course, she asked if I was okay with staying here, and I told her that she didn’t need to worry. I want to be here, if only to get a reprieve from my father. Papa can’t hurt me here. Lorna said that as long as I was happy, then she was too.

Marine had someone show Lorna to the room she’ll be staying in, and Luca brought me up to my room.

I’ve got to say, my room is enormous! At first, I was stunned, recalling my spacious bedroom back home. But now, taking it all in, I’m awestruck. This place looks like a suite in the world’s most luxurious hotel. I’ve never stayed in a hotel, but I’ve seen films, so I figure it must feel like this.

It’s more than luxurious—it’s a statement. It declares power, protection, and prestige. This is where elegance meets quiet danger. Every detail whispers that the person who sleeps here is untouchable.

The space is vast, larger than most bedrooms. The ceiling soars, holding a crystal chandelier that scatters warm light in soft, golden shards across the room. The walls are cloaked in deep, velvety midnight blue and silver—colors chosen for their steel, not subtlety. Together, they form a cocoon of opulence, a sanctuary shrouded in shadow and silk.

The bed is the centerpiece: a king-sized masterpiece with a tall, tufted headboard upholstered in Italian velvet. The bedding is impossibly soft. It’s layered with high-thread-count sheets, a plush duvet, and an array of pillows in muted metallics. This is the kind of bed that promises comfort but also commands respect. It’s elevated on a polished dark-wood platform. I’ve never seen a bed like it!

On one side, floor‑to‑ceiling windows overlook the town with heavy blackout drapes that can turn day into night with a single pull.

A sitting area occupies one corner. It’s furnished with a pair of velvet armchairs and a low marble table. A decanter of aged whiskey sits atop it, alongside crystal glasses. It’s a subtle reminder of the family’s wealth and taste. Nearby, a vanity table gleams under soft lighting. Its mirror is framed in gold, its surface lined with perfumes and jewelry boxes that hint at a life of privilege. I wonder who it all belongs to.

If the Vidal’s are anything like my father, then it’s all there for show.

Papa has a bedroom like this, not as nice, but with the perfume and jewelry boxes on the dressing table. He keeps them there for any woman he brings home. He might sleep with them, but that doesn’t mean he ever takes them to his own room. That place is where no one can enter. It’s not very nice knowing my father brings women home for se.x, but there’s nothing I can do about it. If I were brave enough to mention it, Papa would kill me! His business, no matter the context, has nothing to do with me.

Like my room at home, security is woven into the design, but in a subtle way. Reinforced doors. Cameras hidden in corners that only the family would detect. Still, I notice them—I always do because I’m used to being observed. There’s no privacy in my bedroom; Papa always monitors me. The only private space is the bathroom. I can’t tell if these cameras are active, but at home, they always are.

When I mentioned the cameras to Lorna, she told me not to worry. The Don would clearly want to keep an eye on me. I am a Romano, after all. I got that, but it didn’t make me feel very good. Lorna reminded me to change in the bathroom. Neither of us would want the Don to see me naked.

Like I would ever forget! My nervous laugh is bitter—I’m still tense about the cameras, anxiety humming beneath my attempted bravado.

Luca said that he would see me at dinner later. He smiled and kissed my cheek before he left. He makes my heart beat so fast.

Is it normal to be so happy about an arranged marriage?

The way my heart races confuses me; underneath the happiness, there’s a flicker of uncertainty.

Maybe I’m just weird. But marrying Luca doesn’t seem so bad. I don’t know if it’s all an act that he’s putting on, but I don’t get that feeling. Luca makes me feel…. Special. I’m going to do everything I can to make him happy. No matter what it takes.

I took a shower in the most luxurious bathroom I’d ever been in! The power shower was out of this world! I stood in there for so long, letting the water wash away the hell of the past few days.

But I have to say, if this is what the guest rooms are like, the main bedrooms must be something else.

I got dressed for dinner in a light blue dress, and now, I’m humming while braiding my hair. I’ve already applied makeup to my face. I needed something to cover up the bruises Papa left me with.

“I suppose you think you’re really clever. Don’t you?”

I yelp and spin on the spot, coming face-to-face with Dray.

Who the hell sneaks up on a woman like that?!

Dray, clearly.

He has such a menacing look in his eyes, which makes me swallow hard.

“I-I don’t know what you mean.”

I’m not going to lie. Dray Vidal scares the crap out of me. He might share the same face as Luca, but there’s something else in Dray’s eyes. The devil swims in them. Luca has kind eyes. When he looks at me, I see compassion. When I look at Dray, I see that he would love nothing more than to kill me.

How can identical twins be so different?

I swallow past the lump in my throat as he fixes me with a piercing stare, eyes boring into my soul, head tilting slightly. He seems unhinged. Maybe he really is. That would be just my luck. Maybe the rumors about Dray being a psychopath are true. And by psychopath, I mean the kind who kills for pleasure.

God, and I was supposed to marry this man. If Luca hadn’t stepped forward, God only knows what I would have suffered with this man as my husband.

Dray takes a step closer. I take one back. He chuckles at my obvious fear.

But how could I not be scared of this man?

He’s terrifying!

I try not to whimper when he moves even closer. My backside hits the dresser. There’s nowhere else for me to go. I can’t look him in the eye. I’m too scared.

“Are you scared, Sofia?” He whispers in my ear.

My heart is pounding out of my chest. My whole body is cold and shaking. Yet I’m sweating at the same time. I’m scared to breathe!

“Yes.” My voice is barely audible, but I know that Dray heard me loud and clear.

He chuckles. “You’ll be more than just scared by the time I’m finished with you. A filthy Romano, marrying into my family. How disgusting!”

I swallow hard. “I know you don’t like me,” I whisper. “But I didn’t ask for this either.”

“You’re right. I don’t like you. In fact, I fuckin.g despise you!”

Who the hell doesn’t?

Being the daughter of Roberto Romano means everyone hates me. I’m used to that. But I hoped to make Luca like me, even if it is just a little bit.

“You might think you have my brother wrapped around your little finger, but you’ll soon learn.” Dray chuckles while leaning into me. I cringe. “Your life is about to go from one hell to another. You’ll never be happy here. I’ll make sure of that. My brother deserves better than this arrangement. But don’t worry, I’ve given Luca a few tips on how to keep you in line. I’m gonna make you wish you were dead. You’re gonna learn what loyalty means before the week is out.” Which means Dray is going to put me through loyalty tests, and the thought makes my stomach turn. “Welcome to your worst nightmare, bitc.h!”

I swallow hard as Dray walks away, laughing to himself. When he’s gone, relief drains into exhaustion, and the shaking starts. I drop into the seat beside me and clasp my hands over my face. I feel sick!

The rumors about Dray Vidal are all true. He’s a monster who cares for nothing and no one. When I think about marrying his brother, fear twists in my stomach—because Dray is going to try to break me. At first, dread threatens to overwhelm me, but then resolve takes its place. I can either let him win, or I can find the strength to endure whatever he has planned for me.

What kind of loyalty tests does he have planned for me?

It could be anything.

Intimidation?

Maybe.

Physical pain?

More likely.

Dray Vidal isn’t the type of man who relies solely on threats. No, he’ll torture me. And I sense it will be far worse than anything my father ever did to me.

Am I strong enough to get through that? The question rattles inside me—fear jostling with a desperate determination not to break.

I can’t tell Luca about this. Others would say that would be the right thing to do, that Luca would put a stop to it. But the thing is, he won’t. This is the way of this for people like us. You don’t get to walk into a family like the Vidal’s without being tested. It is never that easy, believe me.

I’m scared; I won’t lie. But I’m not going to give up. Pain is a part of my life. It’s all I know. Dray can do whatever he wants to me, but I won’t give up. Luca isn’t like Dray. I know that. I won’t tarnish them with the same brush. I also won’t go running to Luca about what Dray said here today. I’m not a little girl. I can handle this.

Can’t I?