Amelie’s POV
I don’t know how long I stayed this way, the brothers going in and out randomly like they expected me to break the next time they walked in. The cold metal of the cuffs bit into my wrists, the pressure making my hands go numb. My shoulders ached from being held in the same position for too long, but I refused to show weakness. Not in front of them. If I showed even the slightest weakness, they’d use it against me, assuming I was about to break. And I couldn’t let that happen. Luca stood in front of me, his gray eyes sharp, calculating. I always wondered what went on in his head when he stared at someone like that. It seemed as if he could read straight into your soul, but I knew better. Matteo leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his usual smirk tugging at his lips. And Nico… he was watching. Always watching. He never said much—just observed. “I’ll ask one more time,” Luca said, his voice dangerously calm. “Tell us about your father. His allies, his movements.” Like my father would ever tell me anything like that. I rolled my eyes mentally. I barely saw him as it was, let alone knew his exact plans. But the look on their faces told me they weren’t going to take that as an answer. I met Luca’s stare, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Go to hell.” Matteo chuckled, pushing off the wall. “You first, little sister.” He moved closer, stopping just before me. Slowly, he raised a hand to my face. I recoiled when his fingers brushed my skin, but there was nowhere to go. His touch trailed along my jaw—slow, deliberate, as if testing my reaction. I refused to flinch. Refused to let him see that his touch sent a shiver down my spine—whether from fear or something else, I didn’t know. But I wasn’t about to let him have the satisfaction of seeing a reaction. “You’re strong,” Matteo murmured, tilting my chin up. “But even the strongest break.” I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. He wanted to see me break at all costs, wanted to see me fold. But I wouldn’t. Luca sighed, as if already bored with my defiance. Then he pulled out a knife. My eyes followed the movement, widening just a fraction. I didn’t dare ask why he had it—I just watched as he stepped closer. The dim light flickered against the blade as he dragged the blunt edge along my arm. Not cutting—just a warning. His eyes stayed on my face, watching, waiting for a crack in my composure. “Let’s see how much loyalty you really have.” I didn’t react. I wasn’t certain if Luca would actually go through with it. And I wasn’t sure how long I could keep up this brave act before I found out. Surrounded by all three brothers, I had no idea how to handle this. Each of them seemed to have their own method of getting me to talk. Matteo leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Or maybe pain isn’t the only way to make you talk.” My stomach twisted, but I kept my expression blank. I knew exactly what this was. Mind games. That’s all it was. If they wanted to break me, they’d have to try harder. My father had trained me for worse. Much worse. But we wouldn’t be going into details on that. I exhaled shakily, forcing myself to think. If I wanted a chance to escape, I needed them to believe I was breaking. I needed them to think they had me exactly where they wanted—even if that was far from the truth. Because the second I had an opening, I was taking it. “Fine,” I whispered, letting my shoulders slump. Luca raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing me. He was trying to tell if I had actually given in or if this was an act. “I’ll tell you something.” My voice trembled slightly—just enough to sound believable. Matteo’s smirk widened like he’d won some kind of game. Idiot. He actually believed it. Not that I was surprised. But he wasn’t my problem. The real challenge was getting Luca and Nico to believe me. I made the mistake of glancing at Nico, only to find his dark gaze locked on me. My stomach twisted, and I quickly looked away. I couldn’t tell if he believed me or not. But what I did know was that staring into his eyes would do me more harm than good. Luca stepped back, gesturing for me to continue. They were waiting. So I let the words spill out. I gave them minor details—small, insignificant things about my father’s operations. Just enough to keep them interested. Just enough to keep them from realizing I was stalling. Truth was, I didn’t know anything major about my father’s mafia. Even if they tortured me, I had nothing to give. Nico tilted his head slightly, his dark gaze pinning me in place. He didn’t say a word, but I could tell he wasn’t convinced. I ignored him. For now, I’d done what I needed to do. They thought I was starting to break. They wouldn’t be as careful anymore. After wringing all the information they could from me, the brothers left, shutting the door behind them. The room was silent except for the faint dripping of water in the distance. The cuffs around my wrists had been loosened—a mistake. Matteo had seen how uncomfortable they made me and had loosened them. I waited. Counted the seconds. Listened for movement outside the door. When I was certain no one was nearby, I acted. Biting down hard on my lip, I counted down from ten before jerking my thumb out of place—dislocating it with a sharp, sickening pop. Pain exploded up my arm, but I swallowed the scream, breathing through my nose. Tears burned in my eyes, sliding down my face as I struggled to keep quiet. I slipped my hand free. One down. I bit into my lip again, bracing myself as I did the same with my other thumb. Another burst of pain, another sharp inhale—then I was free. The cuffs clattered to the floor, the sound deafening in the silence. Ignoring the throbbing in my hands, I reached for the small knife left carelessly on a nearby table. Idiots. They kept making things easier and easier for me. And I wasn’t complaining. One step. Then another. I pulled the door open, stepping out of the room. The first thing I saw was a staircase stretching upward. Meaning I was in some sort of basement. The air was thick with the scent of damp stone, my pulse hammering as I crept toward the light. I had almost made it. Almost. Then a hand wrapped around my wrist, stopping me cold. I spun around, my stolen knife aimed at whoever had caught me— Only to find Nico staring at me. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even move. Just watched. Watched me with those dark, knowing eyes. The blade hovered just inches from his throat. My breath came in fast, shallow pants. “Move,” I whispered. He didn’t. I could kill him. I should kill him. But somehow… he knew I wouldn’t. The silence stretched between us, tension coiling like a noose. Then, finally, Nico spoke. “If you want to leave,” he said, voice low, unreadable, “you’ll have to kill me first.” My grip on the knife tightened. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a dark smile. “After all,” he added, his voice a cruel whisper, “it wouldn’t be your first attempt.” Shit.Amelie’s POV_I stared at the note, unsure of what my reaction to it would be. I was so used to people sending me threatening notes, that this was so much of a surprise to me. No threats. No commands. It had been folded and laid on my pillow while I was bathing. Six PM tonight. In the garden. Just you and I. I would like to try again. --LWas this a prank?It didn’t look like it, and besides, Luca didn’t seem like the type of pull stunts like this. But we hadn’t talked about our feelings after the I love yous were passed, and this came as a surprise to me. Better I go and find out what this was about. I was nervous, but a part of me was a little bit excited. And by the time the sun had gone down, I had tried on so many dresses, but couldn’t decide on what to wear. “I am telling you, if you put on a potato sack, Luca would still worship the ground you walked on,” Liana said, taking a bite from the apple she had in her hands. “I would have chosen an outfit by now if you had just
_Nico’s POV_The knife in my hand trembled.Not from exhaustion.Not from training myself to the pain to breaking down..But from the sound coming through the thin walls of Luca’s bedroom.Her voice.Amelie’s voice.Moaning. Gasping. Breaking. Not from pain tooBut from pleasure.He was touching her and she was enjoying it. Enjoying another man’s hands on her. I squeezed the hilt tighter, my knuckles white. The training blade was stained with my sweat, and the cracked leather grip dug into the skin of my palm, grounding me to this moment-this—this unbearable, godless moment.She was his. Tonight, in that room, in that bed, under him.I had chosen her when she didn't choose me.And I was out here. Listening. Bleeding from the inside.Mine.The word sliced through me harder than any blade. But it felt like a lie now. A cruel one. The kind that wore her perfume and smiled with her lips.She said she hated us. She said she didn’t feel anything.But that wasn’t the sound of a woman who fe
_Amelie’s POV_I panted as I stared at him, unsure of what I wanted to say. Because part of me knew he might be right, and the other part wanted to tell him he was wrong.So I kissed him again. Because kissing was way better than seeing the look on his face.A lone tear slid down my face as I pressed my lips harder against his and then I pulled away. The kiss had ended. But the heat hadn’t.It clung to me—my skin, my lungs, my thoughts. Every inch of me was still shaking, not from fear, but from something darker. Need. That dangerous, bottomless need that made everything else blur out of focus.Luca’s breathing was rough. His arm was still around my waist. The tension in his grip said he was barely holding himself together. But he hadn’t moved. Not yet.And I wanted him to.I didn’t think. I couldn’t think at this point I moved again—climbing into his lap, straddling him. My thighs framed his hips. My hands slid up his chest and to his back, nails digging into his skin. His eyes sn
My hands flew to his hair, gripping tight as heat flooded my bloodstream. He worked me like he’d done it a hundred times — slow at first, then deeper, his tongue devastating.I moaned before I could stop it, fingers fisting in his hair, thighs trembling around his head as he dragged me closer to the edge.“Luca—” My voice was a broken thread. “I can’t—”Can't what? Do this for much longer? Couldn't tell what I was just about to say.“You can,” he growled against me, voice muffled, lips slick. “You’re already there.”His hands gripped my hips like they belonged to him. He anchored me, held me still, and the wet sounds between us grew louder, filthier. Shame curled in my belly, but it was eclipsed by the rising, crashing wave he pulled out of me with each stroke of his tongue.“Luca, please—”He didn’t stop.He devoured me.Until my thighs clenched and my back arched and the dam inside me shattered all at once.I cried out his name—not quietly, not politely—like a curse and a confessio
_Amelie’s POV_I kissed him because I was fucking desperate.Because Nico’s voice wouldn’t stop echoing in my head, and I needed someone else to drown him out.And that someone was his brother.Luca froze — for a breath. One second. Then his mouth moved against mine like he’d been waiting for this, like he understood without me having to say anything at all.It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft.It was survival.I clutched the front of his shirt and pulled him closer, mouth parting, breathing him in like he might make it all stop — the memories, the guilt, the heat still left behind from another man.I hated myself for needing this.Hated how badly I wanted to forget.Wanted to forget one brother so I went to the other. But his hand came up, fingers threading into my hair. He angled my head and kissed me deeper — hungrier. My body jerked at the contact, but I didn’t pull away. I let him take it. Let him take me.Because I needed it. I needed someone else’s fingerprints on my skin.I ne
_Amelie’s POV_The carpet outside Luca’s office was soft beneath my knees.I sat with my arms wrapped tightly around myself, eyes burning and my throat raw from holding in the sobs that refused to stop. Nico’s words kept playing in a loop — every vow, every threat, every shattered piece of what we used to be, sharp and bloody in my mind.You’re still mine.I’ll never let you go.I should’ve run. Gone anywhere else that wasn't close to Luca. But I didn’t have the strength. My legs had given out, and this hallway—this stupid, empty hallway—was the only place I felt invisible for a moment.And I had been here for hours and I didn't really think he was in there at this point.Until the door opened.I heard the click first. Then the soft creak.My breath was locked in my chest. I froze, wiping my face quickly with my sleeves, praying the tears weren’t as obvious as they felt. Please, God, don’t let it be him. Don’t let him have heard—“Amelie?”Luca’s voice was gentle. Too gentle.And m