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Chapter 6 Orders and outburst
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2026-06-25 16:05:10Ten minutes later, I heard a knock at my door.
"Yes?" I called. "Your meal is ready, sir," Sandra said gently. "Thank you, Sandra. I'll be down in a minute." "Alright, sir." I listened to her retreating footsteps, then took a deep breath, summoning the courage to face Alexander again. I knew he’d be at the dining table—probably waiting, probably watching. I couldn’t afford to lose myself around him. Not today. Not when I still had to meet with my father later. Straightening my shirt, I walked downstairs and took a seat at the dining table. The food looked incredible—fluffy spaghetti topped with rich sauce. The aroma alone made my mouth water. "Thought you wouldn’t show up for breakfast," Alexander said calmly, removing his sunglasses as he started eating. Ugh. Why couldn’t he just stay quiet—and keep those damned glasses on? He was messing with my head, and I hated it. I didn’t respond. I focused on the food instead, taking a spoonful of spaghetti. The moment the taste hit my tongue, a moan escaped my lips before I could stop it. I threw my head back slightly, eyes closed, savoring every flavor. Damn, Sandra really outdid herself. I opened my eyes—only to freeze. Alexander was watching me. His expression had darkened, his jaw tight. The food almost came back up my throat. "Don’t ever do that again," he said in a dangerously low voice. "I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself next time, Tiger." His eyes pinned me in place. With that, he stood up and walked off, leaving his plate half-finished. My breath hitched in my throat. I wanted to call him back. But I fought it. Instead, I finished my food, quietly left the table, and went to my room to get ready for the meeting. I slipped into my black suit pants and a fitted black long-sleeve shirt. I rolled the sleeves up to my elbows and left two buttons undone, just enough to show a bit of my chest. My chestnut brown hair was slicked back neatly. I stared into the mirror. This. This is the most feared Mafia gang leader in Italy. I put on my dress shoes, grabbed my keys, and made my way downstairs. Alexander was nowhere to be found. I told Sandra, “Let him know I went to meet my father when you see him.” She nodded silently. I parked in the garage and walked into the house I once called home. "Ian, how are you doing?" My mother appeared at the entrance with a warm smile. I smiled back. "I’m doing great, Mum. How have you—" Before she could answer, he barged in. "Enough of the chit-chat. I didn’t call you here for a tea party," my father snapped. "Good day to you too, Father," I replied, unbothered. "Where is the info?" "Asking nicely wouldn’t hurt," I muttered, handing him the flash drive "Did you even look at it? Oh wait—" he said with a cruel smirk, "—you can’t read or write." I clenched my jaw. Rage simmered beneath my skin. "And whose fault is that?" "I didn’t tell you to stay glued to your mother’s side when you were younger. Illiterate brat," he spat. That was it. I turned on my heel, stormed out, and slammed my car door shut. My hands trembled on the steering wheel as I drove back home. I walked into the house, heading straight for my room. That man—that bastard—always found a way to crawl under my skin. “Dinner is ready, sir,” Sandra said softly behind me. “I’m not hungry,” I replied, my voice sharp and cold. She flinched, and I instantly felt guilty—but didn’t stop. I started up the stairs—and ran right into him. Alexander. He met me halfway on the steps, standing in my path like a wall I couldn’t go around. "I don't have time for your drama. Get out of my way, Alexander," I said coldly. Before I could push past him, he grabbed both my wrists with one hand and pinned them above my head, slamming me gently but firmly against the wall. His other hand snaked around my waist, pulling me close. Too close. My breathing quickened. I hated how warm he felt. How safe. How dangerous. I struggled, but he only tightened his grip. "Stay still, Tiger. Don’t dare me," he growled near my ear, voice low and commanding. A shiver ran straight through me. "Look at me when I talk to you." Without thinking, I looked up—right into his eyes. Sky blue and forest green. They pulled me in. "Good," he said in a raspy voice that sent another wave of heat through me. "Now, go to your room, take a shower, and come downstairs for dinner." He stepped back slightly, still watching me. "Do I make myself clear?" “Y… yes,” I breathed out. “Good.” He released me and walked away down the stairs. I stood there for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts, my breath, and what little dignity I had left. Then, silently, I went back to my room 
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Beneath His Gaze Chapter 7 Tension that burns
After taking my bath, I lay on my bed, my thoughts drifting back to what my father had said earlier. The words kept echoing, louder than I wanted to admit. I remembered when I turned five — that was the turning point. The moment my childhood was stolen and replaced with relentless drills and harsh expectations.*“You're the first son of the Romeros. The heir. You can’t afford to be weak.”*From that day, I stopped going to school. I stopped playing with kids my age. Every time my father caught me laughing or even breathing too close to Amanda, he’d snap, shouting that *"men don't play."* I couldn’t even watch movies with my siblings without being scolded.I know I’m supposed to be downstairs right now, but I refuse to let him control me — not today. My father already plays enough of a role in shaping this life I didn’t ask for. I'm not a toy. I'm Ian Romero. The most feared mafia gang leader in Italy. The king of the underground.A knock on the door pulled me from
Beneath His Gaze Chapter 6 Orders and outburst
Ten minutes later, I heard a knock at my door."Yes?" I called."Your meal is ready, sir," Sandra said gently."Thank you, Sandra. I'll be down in a minute.""Alright, sir."I listened to her retreating footsteps, then took a deep breath, summoning the courage to face Alexander again. I knew he’d be at the dining table—probably waiting, probably watching. I couldn’t afford to lose myself around him. Not today.Not when I still had to meet with my father later.Straightening my shirt, I walked downstairs and took a seat at the dining table. The food looked incredible—fluffy spaghetti topped with rich sauce. The aroma alone made my mouth water."Thought you wouldn’t show up for breakfast," Alexander said calmly, removing his sunglasses as he started eating.Ugh.Why couldn’t he just stay quiet—and keep those damned glasses on? He was messing with my head, and I hated it.I didn’t respond. I focused on the food instead, taking a spoonfu
Beneath His Gaze Chapter 5 Eyes I can't escape
I shouldn’t have brought this guy here.I should’ve left him back at the club.But… I couldn’t.There was something about him—maybe the stupid sunglasses, maybe the way he looked like a storm in human form."I'm still waiting for my answer," he said, his voice dangerously calm as he stepped closer. "I don’t like my patience being played with."Before I could move, he spun the stool with a flick of his wrist. My back was now to the kitchen, pressed against the counter. He placed both hands on either side of me, caging me in. My heart pounded in my chest, my breath catching in my throat.He stared at me.Those eyesGod.I forced myself to look away, gulping hard."What's your name?" he asked, his voice low, intense. I could feel his gaze on my skin like heat.I wanted to ignore him. I wanted to ask why he even cared.But the way his voice settled deep in my bones—I found myself answering before I could stop it.“Ian… Ian
Beneath His Gaze Chapter 4 Eyes that burns
I winced as I opened my eyes, squinting against the blinding sunlight pouring into the room.DamnWhy is the sun so bright this morning?Rolling out of bed, I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a plain T-shirt.I shuffled into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, splashed cold water on my face, then made my way downstairs."Good morning, dickhead," Amanda greeted from the kitchen, casually stirring her coffee."Please spare me some," I said, dropping onto the stool at the counter.“Because you said please” she replied with exaggerated sarcasm, handing me a cup.I took a sip and raised a brow. “Didn’t think you’d crash here.”“Yeah, I changed my mind.”We both knew what that meant. She was worried. Amanda always pretended she wasn’t, but I could read her like a book.“So,” i continued, “we never got a chance to talk about the info on the guy.”“Oh yeah"She flashed me a smug grin and wiggled her brows, pulling a flash drive out
Beneath His Gaze Chapter 3 Stranger and Shots
I was sitting on Amanda’s bed, half-slouched, playing Subway surfers on my phone.I still don’t understand how this damn game has no ending. I’ve been playing it for, what, five years now? Amanda introduced it to me back when things were a little less... intense.“Hey, how do I look?”I glanced up and nearly dropped my phone.Amanda stood there dressed in tight black leather—an outfit that left little to the imagination. It hugged her curves perfectly and gave her boobs a kind of dangerous attention. She reminded me of one of those cringe cartoon characters she always forces me to watch.“You look like one of those girls that dances on poles,” I said, deadpan.Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.“You know,” I added, “like the ones from that last party we went to.”“Ohh,” she said, then burst into laughter, throwing her head back like I was the funniest person alive.“You mean strippers, Ian.”“Yeah, them.”so they're called strippers,not
Beneath His Gaze Chapter 2 Bait and Boundaries
I slow down as the familiar building comes into view.Once I get to the gate, I nod at the security man. He opens it without question. No need for explanations—they know me too well by now.I drive through, park, and get out of the car.Walking up to the front door, I ring the bell.I’m just about to press it again when the door swings open with force.Amanda stands there, glaring at me like she wants to strangle me.“Good afternoon to you too, Amanda,” I say with a blank expression.She rolls her eyes, clearly annoyed.Did I piss her off? Or was she already angry before I got here? Ugh—I don’t even know.“I’ve told you so many times to stop ringing the damn doorbell. You can literally open the door and come in. This is your home too, Ian.” She gives me a sad look as she steps aside.I sigh. “Alright, it won’t happen again,” I mumble as I walk past her into the house.“That’s what you said the last fucking time, you dickhead,” she
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