A new reality
1116 Words
Chapter 4: A New Reality
Elena could still feel the phantom pressure of Marco’s grip on her arm long after Domenico had sent him crashing to the floor. The reality of what had just happened hadn’t fully settled in. One moment, she had been trapped in a nightmare, and the next, Domenico had appeared like some dark avenger, stepping in without hesitation, without doubt, to protect her.
No one had ever done that for her before.
She should have been afraid of him. He was a mafia don, after all. But when he had turned to her and said, You’re mine to protect now, something in her chest had cracked open.
⸻
The café was eerily silent after Domenico’s declaration. Marco lay groaning on the floor, clutching his ribs, but neither Elena nor Domenico paid him any mind. She could feel the weight of Domenico’s gaze on her, expectant, unwavering. He had already decided for her.
“I can’t just quit,” she murmured, breaking the silence. “I need this job.”
Domenico exhaled sharply through his nose, clearly displeased. “You won’t work for a man who puts his hands on you. That’s not up for discussion.”
Elena swallowed hard. She wanted to argue, but deep down, she knew he was right. Marco wouldn’t stop. He had proven that much. Staying here would only mean putting herself in danger again.
But then what?
She bit her lip, her mind racing. “Where would I go? What would I do?”
Domenico studied her for a long moment, his dark eyes assessing. Then, he pulled a sleek black card from his wallet and placed it on the counter. “Come work at one of my establishments. You’ll be paid more, treated with respect, and you won’t have to deal with scum like him.”
Elena’s eyes widened. “You want me to work for you?”
“I want you somewhere safe.” His voice was low, firm. “That means under my protection.”
The idea sent a shiver down her spine. Working for Domenico Moretti? The thought was almost laughable. She had no business being in his world. She was just a café worker—a nobody. And yet, he was offering her something she had never had before: security.
Marco groaned again, shifting slightly. Domenico’s lips curled in disgust. “Get up,” he ordered, his voice a growl of barely restrained fury.
Marco struggled to his feet, wincing. He wouldn’t meet Domenico’s gaze, his usual arrogance wiped clean by fear. “Sir, I—”
“Shut your mouth.”
Elena flinched at the ice in Domenico’s tone. Marco paled visibly.
“You’re lucky I don’t burn this place to the ground,” Domenico continued, his voice like steel. “If you so much as look at her again, you won’t be walking away next time.”
Marco swallowed hard, nodding quickly. “Understood.”
Domenico turned his attention back to Elena. “Pack your things. You’re done here.”
She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the edge of the counter. Leaving meant giving up what little independence she had. It meant stepping into his world, relying on him. And that terrified her.
But staying here? That wasn’t an option anymore.
Slowly, she nodded. “Okay.”
A flicker of something crossed Domenico’s face—satisfaction, maybe relief. He didn’t say anything else as he gestured for her to follow.
She grabbed her worn-out bag from the breakroom, her hands shaking slightly as she stuffed her apron inside. When she returned, Domenico was waiting by the door, his presence dominating the small space.
As they stepped out into the cool night air, Elena took a shaky breath.
This was the start of something new. She just wasn’t sure if it was freedom or another kind of cage.
⸻
The drive was silent. Domenico had insisted on taking her himself, his car sleek and dark like the man himself. The interior smelled of leather and something distinctly him—a mix of expensive cologne and something deeper, more dangerous.
Elena sat stiffly in the passenger seat, her fingers tangled in her lap. She didn’t know where they were going. She hadn’t asked.
After a while, Domenico finally broke the silence. “You don’t eat enough.”
She blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“You’re too thin.” His gaze flicked toward her before returning to the road. “I noticed it before, but now that I’m looking at you up close, it’s obvious.”
Elena flushed, embarrassed. She hated how easily he saw through her. “I eat what I can afford.”
Domenico’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “That won’t be a problem anymore.”
She frowned. “I don’t want your charity.”
His lips twitched, almost like he was amused. “It’s not charity. It’s common sense. If you’re going to work for me, you need to be healthy. That’s an order.”
She scoffed. “An order?”
“Yes.” He pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant and shut off the engine. “And since I doubt you’ve eaten anything decent today, we’re fixing that now.”
Elena stared at him, dumbfounded. “You’re taking me to dinner?”
“Call it whatever you want,” he said, opening his door. “But you’re eating.”
She hesitated. This felt too much like a date. Too intimate. But her stomach betrayed her with a quiet rumble, and Domenico smirked.
“Come on, Elena.” His voice was smooth, coaxing. “Just one meal.”
She sighed, resigned, and stepped out of the car.
The restaurant was quiet, the kind of place where the lighting was low and the waiters wore suits. She felt out of place immediately, acutely aware of her cheap clothes and tired eyes. But Domenico didn’t seem to care.
He ordered for both of them, his confidence effortless. When the food arrived, Elena hesitated only a moment before digging in. The first bite sent a shock through her system. It was real food—rich, flavorful, filling.
Domenico watched her with something almost like satisfaction.
“You like it?”
She swallowed, nodding. “It’s amazing.”
“Good. Get used to it.”
She frowned. “I still don’t know why you’re doing this.”
He leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “Because I can.”
Her breath hitched. There was something possessive in his gaze, something that made her pulse stutter.
She was stepping into dangerous territory, she realized. And the scariest part?
She wasn’t sure she wanted to step back
- Writer
