Chapter4: The First Night
1119 Words
Luna didn’t sleep.
She lay still in the massive bed, staring up at the crystal chandelier that hung like a silent witness above her. Every creak of the mansion made her flinch. Every brush of wind against the windows sounded like footsteps. And beneath it all was the constant throb of unease in her chest.
She was alone—but not truly.
Not with him here.
The clock on the wall ticked past midnight.
Luna sat up, her throat dry. She wrapped a silk robe around her body, hating how soft and luxurious it felt. Nothing in this house felt real. Nothing felt hers. It was all a costume, just like the one she wore when she danced.
She padded across the cold marble floor, heading toward the kitchen. Maybe tea. Or something to take the edge off.
But as she stepped into the hallway, a shadow moved.
She froze.
Lorenzo.
He stood at the end of the corridor, shirtless, his body cast in moonlight and shadow. Defined. Dangerous. Every part of him looked carved from stone—cold, unyielding, perfect.
Luna’s breath caught.
“What are you doing out of bed?” His voice was quiet, but it echoed through the hallway like a command.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said, trying to keep her tone neutral. “I was just going to the kitchen.”
He began walking toward her, slow and deliberate.
She didn’t move.
When he stood directly in front of her, he reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The touch sent a shiver through her spine.
“You’re tense,” he murmured.
“Of course I’m tense,” she snapped. “I’m in a stranger’s house, wearing his clothes, obeying his rules. What did you expect?”
Lorenzo’s lips curved into a slight smile. “I expected resistance. I like it. Makes things... more interesting.”
She glared. “I’m not your toy.”
“No,” he agreed. “You’re my agreement. And I always get what I pay for.”
He stepped closer.
Too close.
Her back hit the wall.
“You said you wouldn’t force me,” she said, voice trembling.
His hand came up and rested beside her head, caging her in. “And I won’t,” he whispered. “But don’t mistake that for mercy.”
His gaze dropped to her lips. “You intrigue me, Luna. Most women beg to be kept. You? You’re clawing to keep your soul intact.”
Her chin lifted defiantly. “Maybe because I still have one.”
His smirk vanished.
For a moment, silence.
Then he stepped back.
“You’re not ready,” he said simply, turning to walk away.
She blinked. “What?”
“I said,” he repeated, without looking back, “you’re not ready. Go back to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”
Luna stood there, heart pounding, cheeks flushed, every part of her body vibrating with adrenaline and something far more dangerous.
Heat.
She hated him.
And yet—
She hated how her body reacted to him more.
---
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the tall windows, warm and golden. Luna woke late, the events of the night still buzzing in her head.
There was a tray on her nightstand—fresh orange juice, scrambled eggs, and toast. She hadn’t heard anyone come in. The quiet luxury of it all only unsettled her more.
A note sat folded on the tray.
Breakfast. We have somewhere to be at noon. Wear the black dress.
—L
She stared at it for a moment before crumpling it in her fist.
Still, she got dressed.
The black dress clung to her like sin, elegant and understated with a slit up one side. She paired it with the simplest heels she could find, pulled her hair into a clean bun, and refused to wear any of the expensive jewelry waiting in the drawer.
She wasn’t his doll.
When she stepped downstairs, Lorenzo was already waiting by the door, dressed in another dark suit, clean-shaven and composed.
“You clean up well,” he said.
She didn’t reply.
Antonio waited outside with the car, the back door already open. Luna slid in, her body rigid.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
Lorenzo’s answer was simple: “To meet someone important.”
---
The drive took nearly forty minutes—long enough for her nerves to unravel all over again.
They pulled into the circular driveway of a sleek, modern building made entirely of glass. It looked like a law firm or a corporate fortress.
Inside, Luna followed Lorenzo through security and up a private elevator. She kept close, not out of trust, but because this world—his world—was foreign, and she couldn’t afford to get lost.
On the top floor, they entered a large office where a woman in her fifties greeted them. Sharp suit. Even sharper eyes.
“Lorenzo,” she said, nodding. “And this must be the girl.”
“Her name is Luna,” he replied curtly.
The woman’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m Caterina. Lorenzo’s legal counsel.”
“Legal?” Luna asked cautiously.
Caterina motioned for her to sit. “It’s time to formalize the arrangement.”
Luna blinked. “You mean a contract?”
“Exactly,” Caterina said, sliding papers across the table.
Lorenzo leaned back, watching her as she read through the fine print. It detailed everything—the duration, the rules, the financial obligations. Her mother’s surgery. The secrecy clause.
And one final line in bold:
“Subject agrees to exclusive companionship with Mr. DeMarco for the duration of three months. No refusal without breach.”
Luna looked up, her hands cold.
“This is insane.”
Lorenzo’s voice was calm. “You can walk away. But the money doesn’t go through until you sign.”
Her mind reeled.
Her mother. Her only family. Hanging on a thread.
She picked up the pen.
“I want one clause,” she said.
Caterina raised a brow. “Go on.”
“No... touching unless I say yes. Not just words. Written in.”
Lorenzo studied her for a long moment.
Then nodded.
Caterina scribbled a note into the margins and reprinted the page.
Luna signed.
It was done.
---
On the ride home, she said nothing.
Neither did Lorenzo.
But the air between them was heavy—charged with everything unsaid.
He had her now.
But what he didn’t know was that Luna, for all her fear, still had something left inside her.
Fire.
And even the devil burns when he plays too close to the flame.
- Writer
