Chapter 3: The Devil’s Bargain
1200 Words
Alessia’s fingers curled around the edge of the doorframe, her breath hitching in her throat. Matteo Ricci stood in front of her, dangerously close, his dark eyes holding secrets she wasn’t sure she wanted to uncover.
His words still echoed in her mind.
“Because you’re already mine.”
She should have been furious at his audacity. No one had the right to claim her. Not Luca. Not Matteo. Not anyone.
But Matteo wasn’t just anyone.
He was the shadow that had haunted her tonight. The one who had stepped between her and Luca like he had a right to. And now, standing in the dim glow of the hallway light, he wasn’t just asserting his presence—he was daring her to defy him.
Alessia lifted her chin.”I don’t belong to anyone.”
Matteo’s smirk deepened, but there was something unreadable in his gaze. He lifted a hand—slowly, deliberately—and traced his knuckles against her cheek. His touch barely grazed her skin, but it sent a ripple of awareness down her spine.
“You keep telling yourself that,” he murmured.
Alessia swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay still.
“What do you want, Ricci?”
Matteo’s smirk faded. His eyes flickered with something sharper—something calculated. “ I came to warn you.”
A cold shiver crept up her arms.
“Warn me about what?”
Matteo leaned in slightly, his breath fanning against her ear. “Luca isn’t just here to remind you of your engagement, princess. He’s here to take you.”
Her stomach clenched.
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “He wouldn't—”
“Oh, he would.” Matteo’s voice was smooth, but there was an undercurrent of steel. “Luca isn’t patient. He’s entitled. He thinks this deal gives him ownership of you, and if your father won’t hand you over willingly…” He trailed off, letting the weight of his words settle.
Alessia’s blood ran cold. She knew what he meant.
Luca wasn’t the kind of man who asked twice.
She took a shaky breath, willing herself to stay calm.
“Why do you care?”
Matteo tilted his head, watching her with unsettling intensity. “Because if Luca takes you, it complicates things for me.”
There it was. The real reason.
Alessia clenched her fists. “So this isn’t about protecting me. It’s about whatever game you're playing.”
A ghost of a smile touched Matteo’s lips. “Does it matter?”
Yes.
It should matter.
But right now, all that mattered was getting out of this mess alive.
She exhaled slowly. “What do you suggest?”
Matteo took a step closer, erasing the last bit of space between them. “Stay close to me.” Luca won’t make a move while I’m watching.”
Alessia’s heart pounded. “And if he does?”
Matteo’s expression darkened. “Then I’ll make sure he regrets it.”
Something was terrifying about the way he said it—so calm, so certain.
And for the first time, Alessia realized something.
Matteo Ricci wasn’t just playing a game.
He was playing to win.
Later That Night…
Alessia barely slept.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Luca’s cold gaze. Matteo’s warning. The way tension had coiled between them was like an unspoken promise.
She didn’t trust Matteo, but she couldn’t deny that he was the only person standing between her and Luca’s claim.
When morning came, she found herself in her father’s study, gripping the arms of the leather
a chair as he paced in front of her.
“You need to tread carefully, Alessia.” His voice was stern, his face lined with worry. “Luca is not a man we can afford to provoke.”
She met his gaze steadily. “Then why did you promise me to him?”
Her father sighed heavily, running a hand down his face. “Because I had no choice.”
There it was. The truth she had always suspected.
Her life had never been her own.
“Is there a way out?” she asked quietly.
Her father hesitated. And that was enough of an answer.
No.
Unless…
She inhaled sharply.
Unless she found her way out.
That Evening… The First Move
The estate was alive with another gathering. More guests, more alliances being forged over expensive wine and whispered deals.
Alessia stood near the grand staircase, scanning the room. She needed to find Luca before he found her. If she could get ahead of him, set the terms of their interaction—
A hand wrapped around her wrist.
She tensed, but the moment she turned, her breath caught.
Matteo.
His grip was firm but not painful, his expression unreadable. “We need to talk.”
Alessia swallowed hard. “Now?”
He didn’t answer. He simply led her through the crowd, maneuvering effortlessly until they reached the balcony overlooking the courtyard. The air was cooler out here, the sounds of the party muffled behind them.
Matteo finally let go of her wrist, but he didn’t step back. “Luca spoke to your father.”
Her stomach twisted. “What did he say?”
Matteo’s jaw clenched. “He wants the engagement finalized immediately.”
A wave of nausea rolled through her.
She had expected this. But hearing it out loud made it real.
Her fingers tightened at her sides. “Then I need to make my move first.”
Matteo studied her, something flickering behind his dark eyes. “And what move would that be?”
Alessia met his gaze. “I need leverage.”
Matteo exhaled through his nose, amused. “You have no leverage, princess.”
“Then I’ll create some.”
His lips quirked, but there was something almost proud in his expression. “How?”
Alessia hesitated, then squared her shoulders. “I’ll agree to the engagement.”
Matteo stilled.
For the first time since she had met him, he looked genuinely surprised.
“You’ll what?”
Alessia lifted her chin. “I’ll agree. Publicly. I’ll let Luca think he’s won.”
Matteo’s eyes darkened. “That’s a dangerous game.”
“I know.” She took a step closer, meeting his gaze head-on. “But I won’t marry him.”
Matteo’s smirk returned, slow and sharp. “Ah. So you’re setting him up.”
She nodded.
“And when he least expects it, I’ll take everything from him.”
Silence stretched between them.
Then Matteo chuckled, low and approving. “You aren’t like the other mafia daughters, are you?”
Alessia’s expression hardened. “I never was.”
Matteo tilted his head, watching her like she was the most fascinating thing in the world.
Then, before she could react, he reached out, tracing his fingers down the side of her jaw. The touch was brief but electric.
“Fine,” he murmured. “I’ll play your game.”
Alessia’s breath hitched.
Because there was something about the way he said it—
Like he wasn’t just agreeing to help.
Like he was claiming his place by her side.
The war had begun.
And she wasn’t fighting alone.
- Writer
