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Chapter 3 - Rules Of The Cage
Huling Na-update:
2025-07-06 04:55:29The mansion was quiet. The kind of heavy, eerie silence that crawls under your skin.
The room smelled expensive. The mild aroma of wood polish leather and something vaguely fragrant. Even the air seemed loaded with money. Velvet curtains bordered the huge windows. The marble floor glittered under soft recessed lighting. Everything is precisely arranged, designed, and phony. I walked the room, arms tight across my chest and every stride reminded me that this wasn't a nightmare I'd wake up from. This was my new reality. I stood by the massive window in my new bedroom. The glass stretched from floor to ceiling, overlooking well manicured gardens with the black iron gates in the distance. It was beautiful and yet it was a cage. My suitcase sat untouched by the bed; I hadn’t unpacked a single thing. The stupid walk-in closet taunted me with what seemed to be unending rows of designer clothes and shoes I never asked for. Everything here was expensive and cold. Just like Luca. The door creaked open behind me. I didn’t turn. There was no need to. Luca’s presence filled the room like a dense fog. Quiet, dangerous, impossible to ignore. “You’ve been standing there for hours” he said. I didn’t reply. My eyes stayed on the window. Watching. The guards patrolling outside, the walls, the gates. Everything. My Prison. “Stubborn” he muttered. I heard the faint click of the door closing as he stepped inside. “You’ll starve yourself just to prove a point” “Wouldn’t be the worst outcome. Actually, it would be a welcome development” I shot back. Luca moved closer. I could see his reflection in the window beside mine. Tall and imposing with tattoos trailing down one arm. His expression? unreadable. But those eyes..... Those damn eyes of his, still sent a ripple of unease down my spine. “You won’t die here, Ciara” he said, voice even. “But you will follow the rules” I turned, with my arms crossed. Ready to be defiant. “Rules? How cute. What is this? Mafia boarding school” A ghost of a smirk touched his lips. “Rule one” he said, ignoring my sarcasm. “You will not leave this house without permission” I snorted. “and if I do?” “Then I will come looking” His eyes darkening. “And trust me, you’d much rather I didn’t” “Rule number two” he continued “You cannot speak to the staff about me. About this house or about anything that doesn’t concern you” Pfttt. I scoffed. “Let me guess. Rule number three is no stabbing the Mafia boss in his sleep?” I snapped. Luca chuckled. You'd like that wouldn't you? "That’s not officially a rule but it would probably be wise not to” His gaze dropped to the diamond he placed on my finger. The stupid ring grew heavier by the second. “You wear my ring at all times” he said simply. “I didn’t and will never agree to this” “The moment you walked into that café, you did.” “It was a trap!!!! That café was a trap” I snapped. His eyes glistered sharp with amusement. “Welcome to life in my world” He stepped closer. Much too close for comfort. His cologne hung in the air between us. Warm spice and something hotter that I couldn’t name. He leaned in, his voice dropping low, becoming deadly soft. “You may not have agreed to this Ciara, but the ink is dry. Legally you’re mine. You belong to me” I straightened my spine, chin tilting up. “Keep telling yourself that.” I replied with as much spite as I could muster He smiled a slow dangerous smile. “Time will tell.” The air between us stretched tight and grew thick with unspoken threats. Luca straightened himself with that predator stillness settling over him again. His eyes swept the room. Then returned to me. The movement unrushed, heavy, calculated. “I’ll give you time to adjust” he said finally turning and heading toward the door. “But make no mistake. You will.” He walked out without waiting for a response. The soft click of the door echoed in the silence. I stayed by the window long after he was gone. Watching the guards outside, the gates and the walls. This wasn’t just a house. It was a battlefield. And I wasn't about to lose. Not to my father and definitely not to that delicious looking devil of a man. I couldn't.
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The tires crunched against the gravel before coming to a halt. Mist coiled around the lakeside house like a veil. An oppressive silence settled in. Luca didn’t glance back. He quickly entered a code to unlock the front door, remaining quiet. We walked into a house illuminated only by the flickering fire and oil lamps. “Someone's been here,” I murmured, my gaze sweeping across pristine sheets and untouched dishes on gleaming tables. He sighed deeply. “I had it stocked last week. Just in case.” I allowed that to linger between us. Blood on his collar, a gun in my coat, and no explanation other than survival. I positioned myself by the large window, observing the lake pulse softly beneath the moonlight. Then he vanished down a corridor. I heard the sound of cabinets being opened, a drawer being shut with force, the rustling of supplies. When he came back, he pulled me towards the sofa and gently knelt before me. He had a bottle of antiseptic, fresh bandages, and an oppressiv
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I barely finished my sentence when a sharp crack echoed as the glass shattered behind me. Luca moved quickly, quicker than I imagined possible. One moment, we were standing in the tense quiet of his office, and the next, I found myself flat on the floor with his arm shielding me from danger. Gunfire ripped through the front windows. Shards flew inward like sparkling rain. I gasped, my ears ringing, as Luca shouted a command into the shadows. More shots followed. Quick. Precise. Not chaotic. They weren’t just issuing threats; they were here to kill. A chill ran through my veins as Luca pulled out a compact submachine gun as if it were a remote control. He pressed a spare clip into my hand. “Move to the hallway. Keep low. Shoot if you need to.” “Shoot who?” My voice quivered. But it was already too late. He had vanished. He became a shadow slipping into the next room, barking commands into a comms mic that I h
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