006: The Cage

ADRIANA’S POV

I followed Alessandro out of the club on legs that felt like they belonged to someone else. The rain had slowed to a miserable drizzle, but my clothes remained cold and heavy, plastered against my skin like a second layer of shame.

The words I had spoken earlier still echoed in my mind. I accept. Two small words that had sealed my fate forever.

My heart hammered against my ribs so violently that I wondered if he could hear it. This was the only path left. The only way to save Luca. One terrifying step closer to his father. One irreversible step into the arms of the man who now burned with hatred for me.

His black SUV waited at the curb, its engine purring like a predator. The driver stepped out and held the door open for Alessandro. He slid inside without sparing me a single glance, his powerful frame settling into the leather seat as he stared straight ahead into the night.

“Get in,” he ordered. His voice cut through the damp air like a blade, sharp and utterly cruel.

I hesitated on the sidewalk, fingers twisting together painfully. “Alessandro, I… I need a moment. Maybe I can just—”

“Quit stuttering and get inside.” The command left no room for argument. There was no patience in his tone, only ice and a clear warning that any further delay would cost me dearly.

My stomach twisted into knots. I climbed into the car and settled as far from him as possible on the wide backseat. The door shut behind me with a heavy, final click that echoed like the closing of a prison cell. The driver pulled away smoothly as the club lights faded into the distance. Thick and suffocating silence descended over the vehicle. Alessandro stared out his window at the passing streets, his jaw locked tight, one hand resting on his thigh. He did not look at me once, not a glance, not even a flicker of acknowledgment.

I pressed my hands between my knees to stop them from shaking and forced myself to breathe. This man had once held me like I was the most precious thing in his world. He had whispered promises against my skin in the dark and made me believe in a future full of love. Now he treated me like I barely existed. The brutal contrast tore at my heart worse than any insult he could have thrown at me.

As the city lights blurred past the tinted windows, my thoughts spiraled relentlessly back to Luca. Was he still stable in that hospital bed? Had his little heart worsened again during the hours I had been gone? I had not even managed to call the hospital to check on him. The fear of losing him clawed at my throat until I felt physically sick.

Did Alessandro already know about our son? He had torn apart every detail of my life in mere hours. He knew about the apartment, the debts, the lost job. I knew he must have had his men dig into me. Surely they must have discovered Luca too. But why wasn’t he saying anything about him?

The oppressive silence made my skin crawl with dread. Maybe he believed Luca belonged to Roman. Maybe he simply did not care about the child I carried from our time together. Every possible answer filled me with fresh terror.

I wanted desperately to speak, to spill the truth right here in this moving car, but the words lodged in my throat like stones. What if he did not believe me? What if the revelation only fueled his hatred further and he threw me out onto the street? I would lose my only chance to save our boy.

The drive stretched on for what felt like an eternity. I stole secret glances at his profile whenever I dared. The sharp line of his jaw, the way loose strands of jet-black hair fell across his forehead, the rigid set of his broad shoulders. He looked harder than I remembered. Worse, he looked colder. The passionate young man I’d fallen for at first sight had transformed into a ruthless Don who destroyed lives with nothing more than a phone call. And I had just willingly handed myself over to him.

After what seemed like hours, the car turned through massive iron gates. My chest tightened painfully as the familiar grounds came into view. The Orsini mansion. Five years had changed it. The gardens appeared more meticulously manicured, the lights brighter yet somehow colder, the entire estate expanded like a dark kingdom built on blood, power, and unyielding control. The grand fountain in the circular driveway glowed under harsh spotlights as the car rolled to a smooth stop.

Alessandro stepped out immediately. He did not wait for me, he did not circle the car or offer any courtesy. He simply started walking toward the entrance with long, purposeful strides. I sat there stunned for several seconds as old memories crashed over me like violent waves. He used to open doors for me. He used to offer his hand with that devastating smile that made me feel like I was his entire universe. Those memories stung far worse than the cold rain earlier.

The driver cleared his throat pointedly. I pushed the door open myself and stepped out on shaky legs. Alessandro paused on the wide stone steps and looked back at me with a mocking tilt of his head.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked, his voice dripped with biting sarcasm. “Are you expecting Prince Charming to come open the door for you? That man died five years ago on the day you chose Roman.”

The words landed exactly where he intended, slicing deep into the wounds that had never healed. I swallowed the sharp pain rising in my throat and walked behind him up the steps, my arms wrapped tightly around myself for whatever comfort I could find. The massive double doors swung open as we approached. Warm light spilled out, along with the quiet presence of servants lined neatly in the grand foyer. They kept their heads bowed respectfully, but I felt their curious eyes on me, heavy with judgment.

Alessandro stopped in the center of the marble floor. His voice rang out clearly through the vast space, cold and impersonal.

“This is Adriana,” he announced flatly. “She will be staying here as my mistress. Treat her accordingly. Nothing more.”

A few heads lifted slightly. I felt the weight of their stares. The mix of curiosity, pity, and clear disapproval burned across my face. Heat flooded my cheeks. He had not even used my last name. Just “my mistress,” as if I were a new toy he had brought home for his entertainment. The humiliation sank deep into my bones, settling there like poison.

He turned to an older woman in a crisp black uniform. “Prepare the west wing guest suite for her. Make sure she has everything she needs tonight.”

Without another word or glance in my direction, he walked away down the long corridor and disappeared around a corner. The casual dismissal felt worse than any physical slap. The housekeeper gestured politely for me to follow her. I climbed the wide staircase on legs made of jelly, each step heavier than the last. We walked down a long hallway lined with expensive art until she stopped at a set of grand double doors.

“This will be your room,” she said quietly, opening them for me.

I stepped inside and the door clicked shut behind me with soft finality. The room was undeniably beautiful. High ceilings, a massive bed dressed in luxurious silk sheets, a sitting area with plush velvet chairs, and tall windows overlooking the dark gardens below. Everything looked perfect and obscenely expensive. Yet it felt completely empty. There were no photos, no personal touches, no warmth whatsoever, just luxurious walls built to contain me. A beautiful cage.

I walked to the center of the room and finally let my shoulders drop. The full weight of the night crashed down on me without mercy. I sank onto the edge of the bed, buried my face in my hands, and cried silent tears that shook my entire body. Luca needed me to be strong, but right now I felt so incredibly alone and broken. I had sold myself to the devil to save our son, and I still did not know how or when to tell that devil the truth.

Just then a sharp knock sounded on the door.

I wiped my face quickly and stood up, heart racing with fresh anxiety. When I opened it, my stomach dropped like a stone.

Vaelina stood there in an elegant silk robe, her golden blonde hair perfectly styled even at this hour.

“Well, well, well,” she purred, her voice laced with venom. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Her emerald eyes gleamed with cruel delight as she looked me up and down slowly. A predatory smile spread across her face.

“Five years ago you left this city wearing diamonds,” her smile widened as she tilted her head. “Now look at you. Homeless. Jobless. And sleeping in my fiancée’s house.”