The Don's Tortured Obsession

The Estate

CHAPTER 4

The Estate

(LUCIEN’S POV)

She didn’t beg. She didn’t scream. She didn’t do any of the things people do when they realize death is sitting across them. She just stopped breathing.

I saw it in the way her shoulders stiffened. In the way her fingers went white around the cuffs. In the way her eyes went distant.

Panic.

I knew the word. I had caused it enough times to recognize it.

But I had never seen it look like that. Like her body was trying to leave before her mind could.

My men called it an act. They were wrong. I watched the footage three times. She didn’t flinch when the guard slammed the table. She flinched when her own breathing changed.

“I’m cold,” she had said. Not “I’m scared.” Not “I’m sorry.”

“I’m trying not to panic.” She had been saying the truth without even realizing it.

People who lie don’t admit weakness. Lila Hart had admitted weakness without meaning to. I walked back to my office after the interrogation and poured a drink which I didn't touch.

The tablet still sat on my desk.

LILA HART. NO RECORDS.

No birth certificate. No school history. No medical file. She was a ghost. Except for the Marchettis. Except for the van. Except for the crate with my seal.

My gaze shifted toward the documents spread across the desk. Account details. Bribed officials. Offshore transfers.

All sorts of dangerous information. But incomplete. The numbers were mixed up. Missing codes. Transactions leading nowhere. Names connected to accounts that didn’t exist. Someone had stripped the main component of the file before transport.

My jaw tightened.

Which meant one thing.

Someone still had the missing pieces.

She should have been dead the moment she touched my crate. I should have killed her. That was the rule. I stared at her photo on the screen. Eyes too wide. Lips pressed firm. She was not a threat. She was a problem. And I did not leave problems alive. Not unless I wanted to own them. The guards outside straightened.

“Bring her to the holding room,” I said.

“Not the cells, Don?”

“No.”

I wasn’t done watching her.

And if she had a panic attack once, she would have another.

I would be there when it happened. Not to break her. But to see if she called for me.

(LILA'S POV)

“I delivered the package. I delivered everything.”

“You're Lying.”

The man crouched in front of me. Cigarette smoke curling through the basement. I tried shifting backward but the rope around my wrist dug into my skin.

“Y-you said the package was complete,” I whispered, “Someone might have taken it.”

He grabbed my face, forcing my head upward. “You couriers always say that before we cut your bodies into pieces.”

My breathing hitched. Laughter echoed somewhere behind him.

“He released my head before taking another drag from the cigarette. He blew it on my face and I coughed out gasping for air.

“Last chance girl,” he muttered. “I swear… I knew nothing.”

He pressed the cigarette stick against my forearm. Pain exploded through my arm as a scream tore from my throat. I twisted violently against the chair while the ropes bit deeper into my skin. The air smelled of sizzled flesh as tears flooded my eyes.

“Please… Martin.”

He lifted the cigarette briefly. Then pressed into my forearm again. Another scream broke out of me.

“You think debt disappears because you cry? The man spat, “You think Xander feeds useless girls for free?”

A hand tangled into my hair and yanked my head backward. Pain shot through my scalp.

“You lost money,” Another voice whispered near my ear, “So now you pay for it.”

Tears slipped down my face as I broke into a sob.

I couldn't breathe properly as air wouldn’t reach my lungs.

I jolted awake. Air caught painfully in my throat as I sat up in bed. For a second, I felt the cigarette against my skin. The burns. My hand moved shakily to my forearm beneath the oversized sleeve covering it. The scar was still there. Ugly. A permanent reminder of what happened that night. My fingers trembled against the blanket as I forced myself to breathe.

“Was it that bad?”

I flinched so hard that I nearly fell off the bed.”

An older woman sat near the window. I hadn't even noticed her before now. Her dark hair was streaked with grey. She wore black.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Madam Rosa.”

Her eyes moved toward the tray sitting on the table nearby.

“Eat before you faint again.”

Only then did I notice the food. Soup. Bread. Tea. It was real food.

The smell hit me and my stomach grumbled.

Where am I?”

“The Moretti Estate.”

Cold spread to my chest. I looked toward the door. Locked. Of course. Madam Rosa noticed it. “You’re not in the basement anymore,” she said. “That’s already more mercy than most people receive here.”

Mercy? The word almost made me laugh but my throat still hurt from screaming earlier. I pulled the blanket around myself. “Why am I here?”

“That depends on the Don.”

The Don. The way everyone spoke about him made my chest tighten. Like the entire estate breathed around his decisions.

I glanced around the room. It wasn’t luxurious. Just expensive in a cold kind of way. Dimly lit by a single lamp. Dark wall. Heavy curtains. And a fireplace that hadn't been lit. It looked clean like nobody actually lived here before.

“You should eat.” Madam Rosa said again.

“I'm not hungry.”

“That's fear talking.”

The words landed hard. She was right. I stared down at my hands, It was still shaking but lesser than earlier. Madam Rosa stood up and walked toward me. Slowly like she understood, sudden movement made me flinch.

“I didn't steal anything.”

She looked up at me. “That matters less than you think in this place. Sweetheart.”

Nobody had called me that for a long time now. Since Mom died. “He thinks I'm lying.”

“He thinks too much.”

The answer surprised me and I looked up.

“He trusts very few people, and he trusts fear even less.”

I swallowed, “Then why keep me alive?”

“Because something about you bothers him.” That answer didn't settle well with me. Madam Rosa adjusted the blanket near my legs before saying. “You should be careful.” A tired laugh broke out before I could stop it. “I haven't exactly had choices lately.” “No, but you still have instincts.” Her gaze lifted fully. “Use them.” I looked away first. “You speak about him like he's dangerous.”

She laughed gently. “Lucien Moretti Isn't Dangerous.”

A pause. “He's worse when he's interested.” My body went numb. Before I could answer, a knock came through. The guard outside said. “Don's coming.” My heart raced as I dug my fingers into my palm. Madam Rosa straightened. The footsteps stopped outside the door. The door opened and he stepped inside. I felt his gaze on me immediately. Heat rushed up my neck.

Lucien closed the door behind him. The lock clicked.

Madam Rosa left without a word.

He didn’t sit. He didn’t speak for a long moment.

“You’re alive because you’re useful,” he said finally, voice flat.

I stared at him.

“For now.”