_Amelie’s POV_The next few days had been quiet.I didn't know what the brothers were planning. I didn't even leave my room for anything. Food got delivered to me, and everything I needed was brought to my doorstep.And so when the knock came at my door, I was surprised. I wasn’t expecting anyone.Not this late. Not after the days I’ve been having.But nothing about this place ever followed a schedule—except for how often they liked to ruin me.Knocking was so pointless when they could just walk in if they wanted to, not like it would be the first time. But I opened the door anyway.Matteo stood on the other side, leaning against the frame like he hadn’t just threatened to gut me in the interrogation room a few days ago. He held something in his hand—a glass. Red liquid. Wine. His favorite weapon.My eyes flicked from the glass to his face.I didn't know why he finally decided to come to me, but I wasn't certain if I wanted to know. “Celebrating?” I asked, voice dry.My eyes held
_Amelie’s POV_My eyes peeled open and the first thing that came to my notice was that the bed was cold.Too cold.It bit into my back like ice, the sheets stiff and unfamiliar against my skin. My limbs ached as if they’d been dragged through gravel. My head throbbed. Each breath I took felt like it was pulled through a cracked rib. The air smelled like—Cigars.Leather.Cologne.My heart clenched. No, no, no—Not this place.I forced my eyes open. The ceiling above me was ornate—ivory moldings and golden inlays etched in patterns I used to trace with my fingers as a little girl. I was home.My childhood room was gone. This was one of the guest rooms. Sterile. Controlled. A room for visitors… or prisoners.I turned my head too fast.A shockwave of pain burst behind my eyes. I whimpered, gripping the sheets. My arms—bruised. My wrists—red. Like I’d fought back. Did I fight back?Then it hit me.Matteo. The wine. The bitter sting. His voice.“Because you’re going home.”I shot up, but m
Amelie’s POVThe cameras were everywhere.I felt them before I saw them—tiny red lights blinking like electronic veins stitched into the walls, silent and watchful. The glassy eye in the corner of the hallway followed every step I took, and I could almost hear Santiago whispering through it. One wrong move, little girl. I dare you.It had been three days since I woke up in this gilded prison—back under my father’s roof, under his roof but never his protection. Surveillance had replaced silence. Guards stood like statues outside my door. My every movement was reported, tracked, catalogued. I wasn’t a daughter here.I was a variable. A problem to be solved or erased.Even when I breathed, it felt like too much noise.At dinner, I sat across from Dante DaVinci, my cousin, the family's golden vulture, smiling like the devil’s intern. He’d always been beautiful in that cruel, heartless way. Clean lines. Cold smirk. He was the kind of man that looked like he belonged in a courtroom or a fun
Amelie’s POVI had been waiting patiently for anything. A text from the brothers or something.Then finally, the phone buzzed under my pillow in the dead of night.I jerked awake, heart pounding, hand fumbling for the burner tucked beneath the thin mattress. The screen lit up with a single message.From Nico.It said. “Don’t trust anyone. Not even the staff. Watch the cousin.”That was all the message contained.I stared at it until the words blurred.No explanation. No comfort. Just a warning, sharp and cold like a blade pressed against my throat.It obviously had nothing to say when I would be returning. I couldn’t admit it but I wanted to return. My fingers tightened around the phone.Watch the cousin.Dante.I didn’t need Nico to tell me Dante was dangerous. I could feel it every time he smiled at me like he already knew what size coffin I wore.But the fact that Nico bothered to send a warning at all?That chilled me more than Dante’s smirk ever could.They weren’t here to sav
_Amelie’s POV_I watched as Marco’s lifeless body was carried out of the dinning hall, the carpet stained with red.I felt sorry for the man but I did what had to be done. I wasn’t going to let myself get killed off.After the guests left, Santiago dragged me into his office.He didn’t speak at first.He just stood there, looming.Then—without warning—he struck me.The slap snapped my head to the side, my lip splitting open against my teeth.The sharp crack of it echoed in the silence.I didn’t fall.I didn’t cry.I just stood there, tasting blood, my face burning.His chest rose up and down in silent anger, eyes burning into me.“Do you think you’re clever, Amelie?” Santiago said, his voice dangerously low.I straightened slowly, meeting his eyes.There was no warmth there.Only calculation.Only fury, held back by the thinnest thread of control.“I did what you would have done,” I said quietly.Wrong answer.He slammed his hand onto the desk hard enough to rattle the lamp.“You wil
_Amelie’s POV_The first thing I noticed was how cold it was.Not the weather—it was always cold in Santiago’s house, no matter the season. No. This was a different kind of cold. The kind that sinks into your skin, settles into your bones and stays there.They moved me after the gathering.No explanation.No warning.Two guards showed up outside my door after midnight, their faces blank as stone. They said nothing, just waited for me to follow. I thought for a second they were going to kill me. March me into the woods and put a bullet through the back of my skull.It wouldn’t be a surprise to me if that had happened.Maybe that would have been kinder as well. Death by her father’s men. What a good way to die.Instead, they led me to a different wing of the estate—a part of the house I hadn’t seen since I was a little girl sneaking around the halls I wasn’t allowed to be in.The room was small. Windowless. One tiny bed. No closet. No decorations. Just gray walls and the hum of a singl
:Amelie’s POVThe dress was delivered just after sunset.Black velvet. Tight. Simple.But not simple enough to hide what it was really meant for.Just like the dress given to me by the triplets, this one too left little to the imagination.It clung to curves I wanted to be hidden. Left just enough bare skin to whisper promises I never intended to keep. It wasn’t a dress for diplomacy. It wasn’t a dress for war.It was a dress for bait.And tonight. I was the bait.The guard who delivered it said nothing to me. His face was blank as he stepped into my room. He just tossed the garment bag onto my bed like it was garbage and locked the door again with a heavy click.How nice.I made my way to my bed after that, sitting on the hard mattress as I waited.Five minutes later, Dante appeared.No knocking this time. I didn’t expect him to anyways.The door was pulled open, and Dante stepped in like he owned the place.He leaned against the frame, arms crossed lazily over his chest, a crooke
_Amelie’s POV_My eyes met Dante’s as I followed Vargas up the staircase. He gave me a curt nod as if to tell me I was doing good. As if to say he approved of what I was doing. And for a moment I wanted to turn around and walk away. It was infuriating to have him do that as if I didn’t know what to do.The study door clicked shut behind us, muffling the sounds of the party into a distant hum.It was just me and Vargas now.Nothing could save me now. But of course, I didn't need saving. I let him lead me deeper inside, into the low, amber-lit room lined with dark bookshelves and heavy leather furniture. Everything smelled like money, cigars, and old blood.His family was quite obviously filthy rich.He poured two glasses of whiskey without asking if I wanted one. He didn’t need to. In his mind, I was already his.Good.Let him think that.His delusions could be the end of him,I accepted the glass, letting my fingers graze his as I took it.I could feel the pulse in his wrist — stea
_Amelie’s POV_To make my work more efficient, Santiago made sure I moved to Victor’s house in preparation for the wedding. I still wasn’t sure if Santiago thought I would be getting married to him for real or not, but that wasn’t my problem.All I had to do was get information before the wedding and call it off.Easy right?Except I had no idea where to find this information from.But the best place to always get information was a library.Or black market.The heels of my shoes barely made a sound against the marble floor as I stepped into Victor’s library. The door creaked slightly behind me, but I didn’t flinch. I’d memorized the guard rotations, the blind spots in the security cameras, and even which doors had looser hinges. I had twenty, maybe thirty minutes max.But I wouldn’t be using all that time. All I had to do was search and get out before anyone caught me. They were already suspicious of me and I couldn’t risk it.The library had floor-to-ceiling shelves, thick with th
Amelie’s POVI stood in front of the full-length mirror, running my fingers down the length of the red dress. It clung to my curves like a second skin, the fabric whispering against my fingertips as I adjusted it. The deep neckline barely covered the curve of my chest, and the slit that ran up my thigh made every step feel deliberate—designed to catch the eye and keep it there.Every dress I had worn showed the curves of my body, and this one wasn't any different.Victor had asked for red, but he didn’t know what kind of red he was going to get.Santiago’s voice echoed in my mind: Play the part. Be the perfect bride. Show them what they want to see.All this just to get the information that he wanted. But that wasn’t the part I was playing tonight. Tonight, I was going to show Victor something entirely different.I adjusted the jade earrings, letting the weight of the stones rest comfortably on my earlobes.it wasn’t enough to simply look perfect. I needed him to feel it. To know it
_Amelie’s POV_I stood in the mirrored hallway outside Victor Delgado’s office, the hem of my slate-blue dress brushing against my heels like a whisper. I don't remember the last time I had dressed up like this, since I was constantly being moved like a chess piece.The neckline dipped slightly—elegant, not suggestive. Santiago had insisted I dress the part. I was to pose as someone’s fiancee and spy on him, wouldn't be the first time I would be used as a bride.Except I wasn't sure if I was supposed to get married to this one this time. Santiago had repeatedly said the words to me.You’re not a soldier today. You’re the bride.Bride.The word left a sour taste in my mouth, though my face remained impassive. I adjusted my diamond earring, more out of habit than need. I was already flawless. That was the point. Victor Delgado, Santiago’s most valuable ally in the northern territories, was about to meet his future wife—and she would not falter.How fun, I thought as I rolled my eye
_Amelie’s POV_The door closed behind me with a soft click and I let out a breath J didn't know I was holding. I didn't know what to say about that conversation but I tried to not think about it too much. I didn’t dare linger in the hallway after that. If Santiago wanted something from me, it wouldn’t be for long and that had to be the only reason he had called me into his officeso early in the morning. I kept my pace steady as I walked back to my room, my footsteps echoing in the silence of the mansion.Most people hadn't even awakened by now but this was me having a conversation with my father.The note under my pillow, the one that had taunted me with its ominous “We’re not alone,” gnawed at the back of my mind. I stopped in front of my door, my fingers ghosting over the door knob.What if someone had been in my room? I wondered as I hesitated to step in. Taking in a deep breath, I turned the knob as I pushed the door open, my eyes roaming through the room.It seemed as if n
Amelie’s POVThe sun hadn’t risen yet. Santiago never called for anyone this early unless something was bleeding—or about to be.A maid knocked on my door shortly after five, voice trembling as she whispered, “He wants to see you. Now.”So here I was, walking through cold hallways that felt more like a museum than a home, the chill of marble beneath my bare feet biting through my skin.It was too early for me to be awake. Too early to go seeing that man’s face. But I couldn't exactly say no to him, could I?When I stepped into his study, Santiago didn’t look up. He didn't even to acknowledge my presence.He sat behind his desk, perfectly still, swirling a dark drink in a crystal glass like it was the blood of someone who’d disappointed him.I wouldn't be surprised if that was what it actually was.So I stood in the doorway, silent as I waited for him to decide he wanted to speak to me.He shouldn't have called for me if he wasn't going to. I tried my best to hide the annoyanve I felt
_Amelie’s POV_The note sat on my nightstand like a loaded gun.Plain paper. No signature. Three words.We’re not alone.I couldn't tell who it was from or how long it had been here.It clearly wasn't from the triplets. Not from Dante. Not even from Santiago.Which meant only one thing—someone else was here. Someone watching me. Someone watching them.It wasn’t the message itself that unsettled me, I could have easily ignored it.But what I couldn’t ignore was the quiet way it arrived. It was slipped under my pillow without waking me. No creaking doors. No shadows shifting. Just silence. Intentional. Controlled.A ghost, not a guest.Well if I could call whoever it was that.My room hadn’t been breached. It had been entered.And I hadn’t even noticed.I didn’t know what to feel about that.I sat still for a long time.The note curled slightly at the edges of my hand, as if it were alive, breathing with me. I couldn’t think of anyone who could have possibly sent itI turned it over—
_Amelie’s POV_There was no such thing as rest anymore.Even with the file gone. Even with the guards fooled. Even with the triplets’ message telling me “We have it. You’re welcome.”—I didn’t feel safe.If anything, I felt worse.Way worse than I should be feeling. They’d been in my room. Quiet, unseen, undetected. Took the file right out from under me and didn’t say a word until it was already done.It was probably taken the moment I had gone for breakfast, I couldn't think of any other time.Which meant I’d been watched.Closely. Intimately. Like a puppet with strings, I didn’t know I had.The triplets had asked whoever it was to retrieve the file when I wasn't aware. What if I had opened my mouth to confess and then it wouldn't have been found..They had a backup. A shadow inside these walls. And I was just a decoy.Whoever it was knew of everything I was doing.I’d barely slept after that morning. Every noise made me flinch.The guards pacing. The creak of pipes in the walls. Ev
Amelie’s POVTime didn’t just slow down at that moment.It stopped. Completely.I stood in the center of my room, arms folded tight over my chest, robe clutched like a lifeline. Every breath I took hurt. My mouth was dry. My heartbeat throbbed in my throat.I couldn't let them find the file but there was nothing I could do to stop them from doing so.Basically, I was as good as dead.The guard crouched near the open floorboard, crowbar discarded beside him. The loose plank had come up with a sickening crack, exposing the hollow space beneath.The space where I had hidden the file.My foot started to tap against the floor impatiently but I stopped when he turned to look at me.“Mice. Scared of it jumping out.” I lied effortlessly, forcinf a smile to my face.I hope I’m able to lie this easily when they see it.His gloved hands hovered over the hole. He pulled out a flashlight and angled it down into the darkness, searching.I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. My nails bit crescents into
Amelie’s POVThe next morning was too quiet.It wasn’t just the stillness of the house. That, I was used to. This was something deeper. A kind of silence that hummed under the floorboards, waiting to crack. A storm on pause.That was because I knew what I had done, and I knew the consequences of doing that.I hadn’t slept well — barely at all. My eyes felt gritty, my limbs too stiff. Every sound in the hallway felt amplified. Footsteps. Doors closing. Even the distant clink of glass downstairs sent a jolt through my spine.Simply put? I was alert.Scared might be a better way to put it, but alert seems to be more like itI rolled over and checked under the mattress. The burner was still there, tucked tight against the slats. No new messages. The triplets had gone silent.I would have appreciated a better response. Like where I could take this file.Somewhere far away from me for example.Santiago was going to blow up when he realized that the file was gone.And the file? Still hidden.