CHAPTER 60ADRIENThe footsteps I heard weren’t heavy. Not like Luca’s. They were softer—heels.My stomach twisted as Alexis rounded the corner.“Good morning,” she said, too sweet. Too bright. Her lips were painted red, her blouse a bit too crisp for something casual.I stiffened. “Didn’t realize you were up.”“Oh, I’ve been up for hours.” She smiled, walking to the far side of the kitchen island. There were a few documents neatly stacked on the counter, with a fountain pen resting beside them. “Luca’s documents,” she explained when she saw me glance. “You know how territorial he is about his business.”I said nothing, just sipped the now-lukewarm coffee in my hand.She wandered over to the cabinet, humming, and pulled out a bottle of red wine.It wasn’t even 9 AM.“Bit early for that, isn’t it?” I asked dryly.She turned, glass in hand. “Oh come on. Don’t tell me you’re still sore from training. Or… from something else?”My jaw clenched.She smirked. “Sorry. That was inappropriate,
CHAPTER 59ADRIENHe kissed me like a man starved.But not for me. For control. For power.Our teeth clashed. My back hit the edge of the table, the sharp corner digging into my spine, but I didn’t care. Maybe I welcomed the sting.His hands were already dragging at my clothes, tearing them off like they’d wronged him.I didn’t stop him.Couldn’t.Maybe part of me was desperate too. Pathetic. Wanting to feel something—anything—that wasn’t the cold silence he’d been wrapping me in for days.I gasped as he spun me around.The wood was cold against my stomach.His fingers gripped my hips hard, dragging me back, his breath hot against my neck.“You’ve been acting up,” he muttered, voice thick with something between mockery and desire. “Slapping me with your bloody hand like a brat.”I bit my lip.“I should’ve known,” he whispered as he nudged me open with his knee. “This is what you’ve been begging for, huh?”I didn’t respond.Not when I felt the sharp sting of the slap against my thigh.
CHAPTER 58LUCAThe footage played in silence.Adrien stumbled during his spin. Again.I watched him catch himself on shaky legs, fists raised, jaw clenched like he was trying to prove something. To himself. To me.Maybe both.The sound was muted, but I didn’t need audio. The body tells you everything.The tension in his shoulders. The slight limp from the fall he’d taken two days ago. The way he didn’t even flinch when Matteo corrected him sharply. He just nodded and went again.Like a machine trying to stay human.I leaned back in the leather chair, a glass of whiskey cradled in my hand.“You’re getting comfortable,” I murmured to no one.Cozy. That’s what this was starting to feel like.He'd stopped screaming at the guards. Stopped trying to run.Started folding his clothes neatly. Making the bed. Eating whatever was brought to him, even if he gagged halfway through.I took another sip. Let the burn coat my throat.I should’ve broken him. Or left him shattered.But Adrien was adapt
CHAPTER 57ADRIENI was still sweating from training.My shirt clung to my skin, and I could taste salt on my upper lip. My arms ached, but it was a good ache. A sore, familiar one.Matteo walked beside me, silent as always. Not hovering, not treating me like glass. Just… there.And weirdly, I didn’t hate it.“I landed that last takedown,” I muttered, glancing sideways.He didn’t look over. “You slipped. You landed it because I let you.”I groaned. “You’re such an ass.”Now he did glance over—just briefly—and I could’ve sworn I saw the ghost of a smirk.Almost.We rounded the corner toward the east wing, the one with the garden view and Luca’s cold, empty office at the end. I’d memorized every inch of this house. Every locked door. Every camera.But I hadn’t expected her to be there.Alexis.Perched like a fucking painting in the hallway, leaning lightly against the window frame, sipping something from a porcelain cup like she was the Virgin Mary herself.Her hair was curled. Her lips
ADRIEN I tried to eat today.It felt like lifting weights with my tongue.Every bite was a battle — not against hunger, but against nausea. The eggs were too soft. The bread, too dry. The soup tasted like regret.Still, I tried. I chewed slowly. I swallowed. I smiled.I even tried a joke."How many Moretti guards does it take to screw in a lightbulb?"Silence.Not even the guard by the door cracked a smirk. Matteo, sitting stiffly across from me, gave a polite cough and immediately looked at his plate.My smile twitched. "I guess we’ll never know. None of them talk, and they all look constipated."Nothing.Just forks on ceramic. The sound of chewing. The slow, cold ache of being tolerated.My laughter faded. I pushed my bowl away and leaned back in the chair."Okay," I murmured. "Tough crowd."Matteo glanced at me finally, but it wasn’t the warm gaze I remembered. It was clinical. Distant. Like I was a fragile package and he’d been told not to drop it."You good to walk today?" he a
ADRIENI lay down hours later, eyes on the ceiling, the sheets stiff beneath me.The air smelled like disinfectant. Like a hotel room that no one stayed in.And somewhere in my chest—buried beneath all the anger and betrayal—was something worse.Something smaller.Something like heartbreak.Because no matter how much I told myself I hated him right now… a part of me still wanted him to come.To unlock the door.To look me in the eye.And say this wasn’t what he meant.That I wasn’t just a prisoner again.He didn’t come.Not the next day.Not the one after that either.Not even to say hi. Or stay alive. Or I haven’t completely forgotten you exist.Luca was gone. Or maybe he was close — just silent. Which somehow hurt worse.I paced the length of the room again, back and forth, the cold floor biting at my feet. My stomach twisted with something sharp and empty. I’d barely eaten in two days. Nothing stayed down.Everything I forced myself to swallow just came right back up.Sometimes it