Chapter Four
969 Words
Elena had expected a storm.
She had expected rage. Maybe a punishment, something violent and cruel, something to remind her that in this world, she had no power.
Instead, she got silence.
Luca sat behind his massive desk, a glass of whiskey in hand, his storm-gray eyes watching her with something unreadable. The only sound in the room was the slow tick of the clock on the far wall.
Enzo had dragged her in after her failed escape attempt, but now he stood by the door, arms crossed, waiting for an order that hadn’t come.
She remained standing. She wouldn’t sit. She wouldn’t make this easier for him.
Luca took a slow sip of his drink, then set it down with a soft clink. “Sit.”
The command was quiet. Calm.
She didn’t move.
Luca exhaled, shaking his head slightly, as if she was some kind of amusing inconvenience. Then, without looking at Enzo, he spoke.
“Leave us.”
Enzo hesitated. “Boss—”
“I said leave.”
Elena heard the door shut behind her, and then it was just the two of them.
Luca leaned back in his chair, studying her.
“You’ve been here less than forty-eight hours, and you’ve already tried to escape twice.” His fingers drummed against the desk. “Do I look like a man who rewards stupidity?”
She lifted her chin. “I don’t care what you reward.”
Luca’s lips twitched, not quite a smirk. “No, I suppose you don’t.”
He reached into a drawer, pulled out a thin folder, and slid it across the desk toward her. “Sit down and open it.”
Elena didn’t touch it.
Luca sighed. “You’re testing my patience, principessa.”
“I’m not your anything.”
Something flickered in his expression—a brief c***k in his amusement. “Sit,” he said again. This time, there was no room for argument.
Elena clenched her fists, but after a long pause, she moved toward the chair. Not because he told her to—but because she wanted to know what was in that file.
She flipped it open.
The first thing she saw was a picture of her father shaking hands with a man she didn’t recognize.
The second thing she saw was a contract.
Her breath stalled.
“Read it,” Luca murmured.
Her eyes skimmed the words, her stomach twisting tighter with each line. It wasn’t just a business deal. It was a debt.
And she was part of the payment.
She looked up, but Luca was already watching her, waiting.
“You’re lying,” she whispered.
Luca’s smirk was slow, dangerous. “Am I?”
She slammed the file shut. “You expect me to believe that my father—”
“—traded you to settle his debts?” Luca leaned forward, his voice lowering. “I don’t expect you to believe anything. But you’re smart enough to recognize the truth when it’s staring you in the face.”
Elena felt her pulse roaring in her ears. “He wouldn’t.”
Luca’s head tilted slightly. “Then why hasn’t he called?”
She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Luca stood, rounding the desk until he was standing in front of her, towering over her. He placed a hand on the armrest of her chair, leaning down so that their faces were inches apart.
“You can hate me all you want,” he murmured. “But sooner or later, you’ll realize you have more enemies than me.”
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, but she refused to look away.
She wouldn’t break.
Not yet.
The villa was quiet at night. Too quiet.
Elena slipped through the hallways, needing air. She didn’t care if it was a trap, didn’t care if she was being watched.
She just needed to breathe.
The courtyard was bathed in moonlight, the scent of night-blooming jasmine heavy in the air. She ran her fingers along the stone walls, searching for something—anything—that would ground her.
A voice broke the silence.
“You don’t listen.”
Her entire body went rigid.
Luca stood at the edge of the courtyard, watching her. A glass of whiskey dangled lazily from his fingers, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar.
She swallowed, trying to steady herself. “Maybe I like making you miserable.”
His lips curved, slow and dark. “Careful, principessa. I might start to enjoy it.”
She turned away, but he moved, stepping into her path before she could take another step.
The air between them crackled with something sharp, something neither of them wanted to name.
“Are you afraid of me, Elena?”
Her heart slammed against her ribs. Yes. No. She didn’t know anymore.
She forced herself to hold his gaze. “I know exactly what you are.”
Luca’s smirk deepened. “Do you?”
He lifted a hand, tracing his knuckles lightly down her arm, a touch so gentle it sent something dangerous twisting inside her.
“You don’t even know what you’re afraid of,” he murmured.
She jerked away from his touch. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
His chuckle was low, indulgent. “Flattery isn’t my style.”
Her pulse pounded in her ears. She needed to walk away, needed to get out before this game consumed her.
She turned, but his voice stopped her cold.
“Then why do you keep getting closer?”
Elena’s breath hitched.
She didn’t answer.
She just walked back into the villa, slamming the door behind her.
And as she pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the frantic beat of her own heart, she realized—
Luca wasn’t just inside the villa.
He was getting inside her head.
- Writer
