His Empire,Her Rules

14

SOPHIE

Waking up to a house that feels like it’s bracing for impact was not on my list yesterday night.

A not so quiet but controlled house. The kind of silence that hums beneath the surface like a held breath stretched too long. Somewhere down the corridor, I hear low voices. Measured. Speaking quietly in hushed tones. The sound of men who don’t waste words because words are never the point.

I lie still, staring at the ceiling, the events of yesterday replaying with brutal clarity.

The boutique. The soft vanilla scent. The emerald gown sliding over my skin.

The way the paper fluttered to the floor.

LEAVE HIM.

The words burn behind my eyes.

I don’t feel fear curling in my chest.

I feel anger.

Slow. Sharp. Insulted.

Lorenzo’s side of the bed is empty, the sheets cold where his warmth should be. That tells me more than any explanation ever could. He didn’t sleep.

I sit up and immediately notice what’s missing.

My phone.

The absence is loud, glaring. A reminder that things have shifted while I slept.I close my eyes for a brief second, inhale, exhale, then swing my legs over the side of the bed. The floor is cool beneath my feet as I head into the bathroom. My reflection stares back at me from the mirror calm, composed,and a bird nest on my head.

I look fine.

That almost makes me laugh.

Downstairs, the house looks the same but feels wrong. Breakfast is laid out neatly coffee already brewed, fruit sliced with surgical precision but the warmth is gone I find myself missing the times Lorenzo and I had breakfast together.

There are men stationed near the windows. Not guards.

Soldiers.

“Good morning,” I say, keeping my voice light as I pour myself coffee.

They nod in unison,that bothers me sometimes if I hadn’t seen them talking with Lorenzo I would have thought they are robots.

“Where’s Lorenzo?” I ask.

“He’s on a call,” one of them replies. His accent is subtle, polished. European. “He asked that you eat.”

Asked.

I take a sip of coffee, letting the bitterness ground me. A part of me wants to throw the mug against the wall just to hear something break, to remind the house that I’m still here, still breathing. Instead, I sit at the island and eat toast like my life hasn’t shifted on its axis overnight.

When Lorenzo finally walks in, the men nodded acknowledging his presence before walking out and leaving us.

Even the air seems to sharpen, like it knows better than to relax around him.He looks flawless as always . Dark shirt, sleeves rolled and tattoos peaking out. The watch on his wrist gleams softly under the lights the same watch I’ve memorized in moments far less dangerous.

“Good Morning love,” he says, voice gentle.

“Is it?” I counter.

The corner of his mouth lifts faintly. He pours himself coffee and leans against the counter across from me, his gaze assessing, searching. Not for flaws.For damage,I think he has been very worried since last night when I woke up to pee I caught him staring at me.

“They tightened security,” I say. “And took my phone.”

“Yes.”

I set my mug down carefully. “You said I could leave the house.”

“And you did and someone threatened you.”

“No one threatened me Lorenzo?”

“Yes someone did,in my world it is a threat and an insult”

“Fine,can I atleast have my phone?”

“No” short but the way he put it made something curl inside me and he doesn’t even know it now I can’t be mad

His eyes don’t leave mine. “Now we adjust.”

The word snaps something inside me.

“I’m not a package,” I say quietly. “You don’t reroute me.”

A beat passes.

“You were tested,” he says. “That changes things.”

“I didn’t agree to be tested.”

“No,” he says. “You didn’t.”

Something dark flickers behind his eyes anger. Not at me. Never at me.

“You think locking me down fixes this?” I ask. “Because it doesn’t. It just proves they were right.”

“That you’re my weakness?”

“That you’d cage me.”

Silence stretches between us, thick and loaded.

Then he exhales slowly and straightens. “I’m not caging you, Sophie.”

“Then why does it feel like I can’t breathe?”

He studies me for a long moment before speaking. “Because you’re standing at the edge of my world now. And it doesn’t forgive mistakes.”

I cross my arms. “Then teach me how not to make them,teach me how to fight,how to defend myself.”

That gets his attention.

His gaze sharpens, something like approval cutting through the tension. “You want to be hidden?”

“No.”

“You want to understand and defend yourself?”

“Yes.”

A pause. Then a nod. “Then we do this my way 6:00 am tomorrow morning we meet at the gym last room on your left downstairs.”

He moves closer, close enough that I feel the heat of him, the air leaves my lungs,and he kisses me deeply without breaking it he lift me on the counter,buttons flying and ragged breaths,he bites my lip demanding enterance and a little moan leaves my throat.

Firm hands grip my throat and Lorenzo let’s put a groan,He places his hands on my left boobs squeezing while sucking the other oh myyyyy I could feel the tension building up and he drove me over the edge with the tongue and finger and gave me a mind shattering release.

“You learn how to read rooms,” he murmurs,voice rough.

His thumb brushes my collarbone. “And you never assume people are harmless.”

“I will keep you safe always,”he says and carries me to the bathroom to clean up

“I passed,” I whisper as he cleans me up

His jaw tightens. “Yes you did,You didn’t run.”

“And now?”

“Now they know.”

Fear finally stirs, thin and sharp. “Know what?”

“That you matter.”

The weight of that presses into my chest.

Later, Lorenzo walks me through the house like it’s a map. Points out exits I never noticed. Blind spots. Patterns. He teaches me how to watch reflections in glass, how to notice who watches too carefully.

It’s intimate in a way that has nothing to do with skin.

“You don’t smile first,” he says quietly. “You let them show their hand.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then you leave.”

I nod, committing every word to memory.

Later that evening after my ‘training’, Lorenzo finds me sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing. He doesn’t speak. He simply sits beside me and pulls me into his chest,his scent invades my senses

“I promise you safety,” he says quietly. “I promise you truth.”

That night, orders are given. Phones ring. Doors open and close. Names I don’t recognize. Accents I can’t place.When he finally returns to bed, his arms wrap around me possessively, anchoring me.

“They wanted you scared,” he murmurs against my hair.

“Did they succeed?”

“No.”

I close my eyes, knowing one thing with absolute certainty.

The warning wasn’t the end.

It was the beginning.