Chapter 2: The Encounter

Elena paced the length of the private suite, her nerves stretched thin.

The heavy bass from Inferno pulsed through the glass walls, but the club below might as well have been a world away. Up here, trapped in Damien Moretti’s domain, silence thickened the air, pressing against her like an unseen force.

She needed to leave.

Her heart was still racing from their kiss. From the way her body had instinctively responded to him, despite everything. Despite the years. Despite the betrayal.

What the hell had she been thinking?

The door swung open, and Damien strode in, his expression unreadable.

Elena’s spine stiffened. “I told you—I’m working. I can’t be here.”

Damien didn’t respond immediately. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, arms crossed, studying her like a puzzle he intended to solve.

“You still have a temper,” he finally murmured, a ghost of amusement flickering in his dark eyes.

Her hands clenched at her sides. “And you still think you can control me.”

“I don’t think, cara mia,” he said smoothly. “I know.”

The old endearment made her stomach twist. It was a cruel reminder of the past—of whispered confessions in the dark, of fingers tracing promises onto bare skin.

She straightened. “If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, I’m leaving.”

“You’re not leaving.”

Her breath hitched at the quiet authority in his voice. The same voice that used to coax her into surrendering, into believing in things that were never real.

“Elena,” he said, stepping closer, his tone shifting. “Why this place? Why Inferno?”

Her throat tightened. “I needed a job. It pays well.”

Damien’s lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile. “Is that all?”

She hesitated, just for a second. But Damien was a predator—he didn’t miss weaknesses.

“I could give you better,” he said.

A humorless laugh escaped her. “You’re offering me charity now?”

Damien’s jaw tensed. “I’m offering you protection.”

That made her pause. “Protection? From what?”

His silence spoke volumes.

And then, realization dawned.

Her pulse kicked up. “Oh my God… that’s why you bought Inferno.”

Damien said nothing, but the confirmation was in his eyes.

A week ago, he had walked into Inferno, intending to handle a business deal. He hadn’t expected to see her—hadn’t expected the gut-wrenching punch of emotions when he spotted Elena in that tight black dress, navigating through a sea of hungry, lecherous men.

And then he had seen it.

A man’s hand, sliding over her ass. A low laugh, the sound of entitlement.

Elena had tensed, but she had kept walking, used to this place and the men in it.

But Damien wasn’t.

He hadn’t realized he was gripping his whiskey glass too tightly until it shattered in his hand, shards slicing his skin. He had barely felt it. The only thing he could focus on was her. The anger in her eyes, the way her back straightened like she wanted to fight but knew she couldn’t.

That night, he had made a call.

By morning, Inferno belonged to him.

Elena stared at him now, shock flickering across her face. “You—” She stopped, shaking her head. “You bought this place. Because of me?”

Damien stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “Yes.”

She sucked in a breath. “That’s insane.”

His lips tilted. “No, cara mia. What’s insane is thinking I would let you keep working here under another man’s control.”

Fury burned in her chest. “You don’t own me, Damien.”

He reached out, fingers brushing against her jaw—just a ghost of a touch, but enough to send shivers racing down her spine.

“I own this club,” he murmured. “And everything inside it.”

Her stomach twisted. “So that’s it? You think you can just… trap me here?”

Damien exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple as if she was exhausting him. “Elena, this isn’t a game. You don’t belong here.”

“I don’t belong anywhere,” she snapped.

Something flickered in his eyes. A dangerous glint. “You belong with me.”

Her breath caught.

“You’re mine,” Damien said, his voice dropping to something dark and possessive. “You always have been.”

“No,” she whispered, but the protest felt weak.

Damien studied her, his gaze piercing. Then, suddenly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded slip of paper. He placed it on the table beside her.

“What is that?” she asked warily.

“A new contract.”

Elena hesitated, then picked it up, scanning the contents.

Her blood ran cold.

He wasn’t just offering her another job.

He was offering her everything. A high-paying, legitimate position in one of his luxury hotels. Full benefits. A place to stay—far from the dangers of Inferno.

Far from him.

Except…

Her fingers clenched around the paper. “There’s a catch.”

Damien smirked. “Smart girl.”

She swallowed hard. “What is it?”

“You work for me now,” he said.

Elena’s heart pounded.

“That’s the deal, cara mia,” he continued, his voice soft but firm. “You leave Inferno. You take this new life I’m giving you. And in return…” His fingers tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. “…you don’t run from me again.”

Elena’s stomach twisted.

The choice was impossible.

Stay in Inferno, struggling every day to protect Draco… or step back into Damien’s world.

The world she had sworn she would never return to.

“Elena,” Damien murmured. “Take the deal.”

Her chest ached.

But before she could answer, a sharp knock interrupted them.

Damien’s expression darkened. He turned toward the door, his body tensing.

One of his men, tall and dressed in black, stepped inside. His voice was clipped. “Boss, we have a problem.”

Damien’s jaw clenched. “What is it?”

“DeLuca’s men,” the guard said. “They’re here.”

A slow, predatory smile curled Damien’s lips. “Well. That didn’t take long.”

Elena swallowed. She didn’t know who DeLuca was, but she could tell from the glint in Damien’s eyes that this was bad.

Damien turned back to her, his gaze unreadable. “Stay here.”

Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

Elena stared after him, her pulse hammering.

The contract still burned in her hands.

Damien Moretti wasn’t just offering her a job.

He was offering her a cage.

And the worst part?

She wasn’t sure if she had the strength to refuse.