The Don's Tortured Obsession

Rules

CHAPTER 5

Rules

(LILA'S POV)

The door closed behind him with a gentle click. I didn't look up immediately. But the air in the room had shifted and Madam Rosa walked out. My fingers curled inside the blanket. “Look at me.” My breath caught in my throat as I recalled the guard's warning about looking at the Don when he spoke to me. I lifted my head and our eyes met. For a brief moment the room felt smaller. He didn’t move immediately. Just stood there measuring me from under his lashes like he was trying to decide something without saying it. My gaze lowered first. It always did. “Stand.” He said. I hesitated for a second. Don't make me repeat myself.”

I pushed the blanket aside and stood quickly, my legs wobbled slightly beneath me. The cold floor sent a sharp chill up my feet. But I ignored it. His eyes looked down briefly before returning to my face. “Good.” He said. I didn’t know why the words unsettled me more than anything he had said earlier. Silence passed. As I shifted my weight. My fingers kept folding the hem of my oversized shirt. He walked forward and every muscle in my body tightened as he stopped in front of me. Close enough for me to feel the heat of him. You're not in the basement anymore.” He said. “I know.” My voice was low. His gaze didn't leave my face. “Then act like it.” I didn’t respond. And even if I wanted to respond, I didn’t know how to.

Neither of us spoke, Then his eyes moved past me to the table beside the window close to my bed. The tray Madam Rosa had left behind. Soup. Bread. Tea. Was untouched. His gaze lingered there for a moment then turned to me. “You didn't eat.” He said and it didn’t sound like a qusetion. But my throat tightened. “I wasn't hungry.” His expression didn’t change. “Sit.” I blinked “What?”

“Sit.” My body obeyed even before my mind did. I sat slowly on the edge of the bed. He walked passed me to the table and picked up the tray. My eyes opened wide in disbelief as he returned with it. He placed it in front of me. My chest tightened. “Eat.” I stared at the food then back at him. “I said I'm not.” “Eat.” He said for the second time. My fingers curled in my lap. “I can't,” I said quietly. His eyes didn't leave mine. “Why?” I shook my head sideways. “I just… I can’t.” He didn’t respond immediately. Just watched me. My breathing started to change. “I'll throw up,” I added “I haven't eaten properly in days, …” “Take a bite.” He cut my words before I completed it. My chest rose up in a sharp inhale. “You're shaking.” He said. “I’m not.” “You are.” my hands tightened into a fist. I hated that he could see through me. “Take a bite,” He repeated slower this time. My fingers moved, I picked up the spoon, took a scoop out of the soup. My hand shook as I lifted the spoon to my mouth. I swallowed and my stomach protested. I lowered the spoon. “I did it.” “Again” my eyes snapped up toward him. “I can't.” “I said again.” My chest tightened but my hand moved again and scooped another spoonful. I swallowed it quickly this time and my throat caught. A sharp cough broke out of me as I bent forward coughing harder. The spoon slipped out of my hand and landed with a clatter on the tray. My chest burned and I couldn't breathe. “Stop.” he commanded. I tried to take in air but it didn't work. “Slow.” I couldn’t look at him. “Water.” The door opened and Madam Rosa walked in with a glass of water in her hand. She crouched in front of me holding the glass as I took a sip. I drank greedily as another cough broke out of me. I drank slower and the burning eased. I lowered the glass with my fingers trembling. His attention stayed fixed on me, tracking every breath I took. “You’re still breathing,” I looked at him quickly. “I just choked,” “And you didn't die.” My grip tightened around the glass. Before setting it down. Something about what he said made my chest hurt. “Again.” I looked up. “No… I can't.” His gaze didn't shift. “You can.” Silence stretched. I picked up the spoon and took another spoonful. “Good.” I pushed the tray away. “I ate.” He didn't stop me. His gaze dropped lower to my arm. The sleeve I had pulled down earlier. I felt it before I saw it. My fingers dragged the sleeve down but it was too late. He had already seen it.

“Stand.” Something uneasy twisted in my stomach. “I just…” “I said stand.” I stood up. Then he moved closer. I moved backward and my back hit the wall. Heat rushed up my neck. “Your arm.” My head shook sideways. “No.” “Move it.” “I said no.” His eyes darkened as he looked through me. “Do it.” My fingers trembled as I rolled up the sleeve. Enough to let the ugly scars show.

Silence stayed as he looked at my arm. “You're staring,” I whispered. He didn't reply to me but his hand lifted and I gasped. He didn't touch me. Just lingered above my arm. Enough that I could feel the heat. “The other arm.” My chest tightened. I hesitated then moved it up. More scars showed some faded. Some visible. The room went quiet again then, he asked.

“Who did that to you?”

The question caught me off guard and I blinked. I didn't expect that. “It doesn't matter.”

“It does to me.” The words settled heavily between us and I looked at him confused. “Why?” His gaze snapped back at me. “That’s not your concern.” A pause. Then I pulled the sleeves down. Neither of us spoke for a moment then he tilted his head. “Listen carefully,” he said. “You don't leave this room unless I say so.” My fingers curled at my sides. “You don't lie to me.” a pause. “And you don't lock doors in my house.”

My eyes shifted to the door without thinking.

“I didn't lock it.” I said. “I know.” The answer came easily. His eyes didn't leave mine for a moment. Then he turned back. And the space between us returned. “Get some rest.” He said. Like nothing had happened. The door opened behind him and he walked toward it. He paused in the way for a second. “Next time,” he said without looking back, “I expect an answer.” The door closed. And just like that he was gone. I let out a sharp exhale as I lowered onto the bed. I pressed my fingers against the sleeve and looked away. I stared at the door long after he left.

A knock came at the door before I could breathe properly.

Madam Rosa didn’t answer it. She stepped back, eyes dropping to the floor.

The lock clicked again, and the door opened on its own.

Lucien stood in the doorway, and said one word: “Come.”