Bound to the Ruthless Don

Five—-Isla

I watched the gates from my window, fingers gripping the edge of the sill. Nothing had changed, but everything had changed. Same blacked-out SUVs, same uniformed armed guards, same damn walls trapping me inside. Luca hadn’t come to see me either. Lia had informed me that no one was injured, aside from the security guards patrolling the grounds.

I wiped at my face, furious at the tears threatening to fall. I wasn’t going to cry over this. Over him. Over my freedom.

“I’ve missed Luca. Can you send a word to him?” I asked sweetly, turning to Lia, my supposed caretaker and very real babysitter, hoping she wouldn’t sense the lies in my words.

Her expression remained impassive, but I saw the flicker of something, pity? Annoyance? It was gone before I could place it. “Boss is unavailable at the moment. He’ll call on you when he’s ready.”

In other words, when he damn well pleases.

I exhaled sharply, pacing back toward my bed. I was convinced now that he was keeping me locked in here just to spite me. A punishment I didn’t fully understand yet.

A knock at the door, and the air shifted before I even turned.

Ivanna. Lia had already told me their names.

She swept into the room, all silk and arrogance, her perfect dark waves cascading over her shoulders, same shade as Luca’s, but streaked with expensive brown highlights. Her heels clicked against the marble floor as she sat elegantly at the foot of my bed, like we were old friends.

“The last time I saw your beautiful face was days ago,” she mused, crossing her legs. “I thought I’d check in before I leave.”

I didn’t move. “Leave?”

She sighed dramatically, eyes flicking to the ceiling. “Luca says it’s safer at the safe house. So Killian and I will be disappearing for a while.” Then she turned to me, smiling sweetly like she hadn’t just admitted she was running for her life. “Guess you’ll have the house all to yourself.”

I didn’t buy this little dramatic heart-to-heart for a second. She damn well didn’t care if I lived or died. And I was about to say as much when she stood, smoothing out her dress.

“In case you’re dead before we come back, rest in peace, Isla.”

She was gone before I could tell her to go to hell.

I threw the covers back in frustration, about to rid my bed of any trace of her presence when I felt it, a small slip of paper beneath my sheets, right where she had been sitting.

I stilled, fingers tightening around it just as another knock sounded.

Lia.

She stepped out earlier when Ivanna came in, and now her usual poker face was replaced with something close to excitement. “From Boss,” she said, motioning to two men carrying a collection of black and gold boxes.

They set them down before disappearing, leaving me staring at what I could already tell was obscene luxury.

Lia moved fast, practically bouncing as she undid the first bow. The first box held a blood-red gemstone necklace set on a diamond chain, with matching earrings. The next, gold Cartier bracelets. Another—Yves Saint Laurent heels in crimson. Versace heels in the same shade. Five different shoes, five matching bags, all laid out like offerings.

I hadn’t even unzipped the garment bag before I spotted his note.

We leave by 8. No room for negotiation.

MASQUERADE GALA – 8:37 P.M.

The air reeked of wealth and danger.

The masquerade gala was a spectacle, a room filled with the kind of people who ran the world from behind gold-plated doors. Men in sleek suits, women dripping in rare, expensive jewels, whispers exchanged between glasses of aged whiskey. I knew the type. The untouchables. The kind I’d only seen in Netflix series.

And Luca was one of them. And I was in Luca’s world.

As we stepped in, Luca’s hand possessively around my waist, eyes were on us, and they didn’t bother to mask their interest behind their physical masks. The men looked at Luca with admiration, fear, and even hatred. The women looked at him with interest, some didn’t even bother to just look as they touched him as if brushing dirt off his chest, even though there was nothing there. Some of them came in for a brief hug, kissing his cheeks, some too close and I had to stop myself from glaring at them. I couldn’t possibly be jealous of my kidnapper getting romantic attention from my gender.

I shouldn’t feel anything for him aside from hatred, and his scent invading my senses wasn’t helping with my mental analysis.

I sat beside him, my red dress clinging to every inch of my skin, my half-face mask secured with delicate satin ribbons. I hated how well the dress fit, hated the feeling of his hand resting idly on my naked thigh through the high slit of the dress.

“How long have you known Luca?” one of the men at our table asked, his interest piqued.

I barely hesitated. “I don’t know Luca.”

The table went dead silent. Then, they all burst into laughter, like I’d just told the joke of the night.

The man beside me leaned in, smirking dangerously, as if willing to play with fire. “If you need help, blink twice.”

I turned to him and blinked. Twice.

His grin widened. “s**t, I like you.”

That was when I felt Luca’s grip tightening on my thigh. Slow, deliberate, his fingers tracing the slit of my dress.

“Dolcezza,” he murmured, voice laced with quiet warning. “As long as you’re on my arm, you don’t speak to other men.”

His hand inched higher.

Two can play this game.

I turned to my new admirer, letting my lips curve into a smile just as Luca exhaled sharply. My mind raced excitedly as he looked at me, fully interested and willing to ignore Luca’s glare. Perfect. But as much as I’d love to play the flirting game with him, the note Ivanna dropped was still ringing in my head. If I don’t leave tonight, I can’t afford to be stuck with Luca forever. This is not the type of life I want for myself. I don’t fit in.

Soon, some men engaged Luca in a very low conversation, and the man got distracted by a blonde rubbing his thigh slowly. I gently slipped Luca’s hand off my thigh, his eyes glancing sharply at me.

‘Bathroom,’ I mouthed to him.

The trip to the bathroom was short, and I noticed two of Luca’s men trailing me in the shadows until I entered the restroom. They positioned themselves right outside the door. A quick glance around, and the windows were the perfect size if I didn’t mind a few scratches. I was past caring.

I moved before I could second-guess myself. I took off my heels and left the mask on the sink. I opened the window wider, pushing myself through it to the ground below. And as my feet touched the pavement, I took a deep breath. I was almost free.

The mansion’s compound was vast, lined with trimmed hedges and decorative fountains. The perimeter fence was high, but the emergency exit gate was just a few feet ahead. One of the guards was distracted, cigarette in hand, chatting with another.

Almost there.

I quickened my pace, my heels in my hands and my gown bunched around my hips, my feet barely making a sound against the pavement.

I checked around to be sure nobody saw me, and there was not a single person in sight. Even the guards I’d seen earlier were nowhere to be found. It was a perfect escape. Too perfect to be true, but I needed to be fast before Luca’s men informed him of my disappearance. And I needed a phone. I needed to reach out to Ethan.

Ethan might not be the perfect brother, but now that I was stranded, he was my only option for surviving this escape and staying hidden until whatever this is ends.

Almost at the end of the pavement, and the trimmed edges I was hiding behind, I took the last turn, tasting my freedom as the gates got closer. I noticed it was unlocked, squatted to twist the handle, and moved more slowly. Then I hit a wall.

No. Not a wall.

Luca. f*****g Luca.

I barely had time to react before he took a slow step back and clapped, a smug smile on his perfect lips and amusement in his eyes. It’s a trap. I fell for his trap.

He baited me.

My stomach dropped.

“Well,” he said, tone as smooth as sin, “I was wondering how long it would take you.”

I turned to run, but he was faster. His arm hooked around my waist, dragging me against him just as the sky opened and the first raindrop fell. Then another.

And another. Within seconds, we were drenched, our clothes sticking to our skin. His hands tightened around me, his second hand snaking through the slit of my dress while staring into my eyes like he could read my mind. And I couldn’t take my gaze off his eyes either. His black eyes were icy black, as black as his heart, I’m sure. But his perfume clouded my mind, smelling delicious and masculine. His body was hard and flushed against mine, his leg in between my legs, and I almost rubbed myself against him before I remembered who he was.

I struggled, twisting in his grip, but he only held me tighter. His breath was warm against my ear. “You really thought I’d let you go?”

I should have shoved him away. Should have cursed him out.

But I didn’t. And as his hand left my back to cup my head, his lips slanted over mine. He kissed me like I’ve never been kissed—possessively. I knew I’d lost this fight, and I hated him for it. But I could barely get my thoughts together before my body started reacting to him. My body submitted to his touch, his hands getting bolder, brushing against the edge of my panties. Just like that, reality dawned on me, and I pushed him away. He was obviously not expecting my reaction because he stumbled back slightly.

I took advantage of that and ran to the gate, opened it, and bolted outside, into the rain, into my freedom—his phone that I’d stolen from his pocket clutched tightly in my hand.