The devil in Armani

Lola’s POV

Damien Salvatore. If I guessed right, he was the heir of DeLuca.

That name wasn’t just a name, but instead, a warning, a curse, a death sentence whispered in every dark corner of Italy.

 Men twice his age lowered their eyes at the mention of him. Women called him the Devil in Armani. Cold-blooded, ruthless and untouchable.

He wasn't just a business man neither was he just a mafia. A man who ruled boardrooms by day and painted the streets red by night.

And now, I was standing right in front of him.

The same man no one ever prayed to meet.

What the hell could he possibly want with me? Did Dad owe him too?

My throat went dry at the thought. Fear crawled through my veins as I went on my knees.

“Please,” I whispered, forehead touching the cold floor. “We’ll pay you. I swear we’ll pay. Just give us time. Please don’t hurt us.”

Silence.

A silence so heavy it pressed down on my chest.

Then he spoke. Smooth, low, and laced with mockery.

“Who said you owe me?”

My head snapped up. “Then… Why was I called here?”

He didn’t answer. Just swirled the last of his drink, slow and deliberate, before setting the glass down. Then he reached into his jacket and placed a black card on the table.

My brows furrowed. “What’s that?”

“How much?” His tone, unwavering.

“How much… for what?” I asked, my voice trembling.

He leaned backwards, eyes dark and unreadable. “I’m buying you.”

I blinked. “You’re what?”

“Name your price,” he said, calm and final, like it was a business deal.

My breath hitched. “Buying me? Like I’m some kind of commodity? I’m human, Mr. Salvatore. You can’t just…”

He cut me off with a lazy glance, like he’d already decided how this would go. “Not cooperative? Fine.” He barely tilted his head toward the bodyguard standing beside him. “Get her.”

That’s when panic hit me full force. I lunged for the door, twisting the handle so hard but it was locked. The bastard had locked it when I came in.

I pounded on the door, screaming for help, even though I already knew it was soundproof.

Then I felt it. A sharp hit at the base of my neck.

And everything went dark.

---

When I opened my eyes again, the first thing I felt was softness under me. I was on a bed.

The room was unfamiliar. Walls painted black and white in bold designs, a sleek three-seater couch by the corner, marble floors that gleamed under dim lights, and thick curtains that blocked the morning sun. Everything screamed luxury.

I sat up, wincing. My body ached like I’d been hit by a truck. My head pounding hard.

Before I could gather my thoughts, the door opened. A young maid stepped in, holding a tray.

“Ma’am, you must be hungry. It’s already morning. “Please eat before it gets cold.”

I just stared at her, my mind foggy. I had no interest in responding.

“The boss said you mustn't skip meals,” she added gently.

That word ‘boss’ made something inside me flare. “Get out.”

The coldness in my voice startled her. She froze for a second, then quickly bowed her head and left.

Hours passed. I hadn’t moved. My eyes stayed fixed on the same spot. Another maid came in later, replaced the untouched food, but didn’t speak. Just glanced at me and walked out.

Would anyone notice I was missing? 

Dad and Ava would be worried to death by now.

And even if they did… who the hell would think to look for me in Damien Salvatore’s house?

I had to get out.

When the door opened again, my stomach twisted.

It was him.

Damien stepped inside with that same unsettling calmness. Every step he took made my heart hammer. His mint cologne, clean and sharp, filled the room, and I inhaled sharply without realizing.

He picked up the tray and stopped in front of the bed, eyes sweeping over the untouched food. “Eat.”

I turned my head away. “I’m not hungry.”

“I see,” he murmured, his tone dropping lower. “A father and a friend, right?”

My body shivered. 

The casual way he said it… like he’d already done his homework. Like he was reminding me just how easily he could break the people I loved.

I clenched my fists, wanting to scream, to curse him, but instead, I grabbed the tray and ate. My head bent in humiliation.

When I was done, he nodded slightly. “Good.”

“Why me?” I asked, barely able to get the words out. “Why are you doing this?”

He paused at the door, but didn’t look back. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Then he left, locking it behind him.

---

That night, I made my move.

When the next maid came with dinner, I asked of Damien .

“He hadn't been home since he left your room”. She said.

 As she turned to leave, I hit her on the neck making her pass out. 

My heart pounded as I searched her pockets and found a key.

I stripped her uniform off, swapped her clothes with mine, and tucked her under the blanket. Then I grabbed the food tray, bowed my head and opened the door.

Scanning the bodyguards through their feet they were five in total.

I kept walking, slow and steady.

“Hey!” one of them barked. “The plates go to the kitchen. Why are you headed that way?”

“My hairpin fell by the stairs,” I muttered, not daring to look up.

“Fine. Be quick.”

I turned down the opposite staircase, trying my best not to look suspicious.

There were three doors and I pushed the first. A storage room. The second, the kitchen. I dropped the plate in the kitchen but unfortunately, the window was small. 

Remembering the storage room, I ran back. The window was almost the same size as the one in the room I was locked in. 

Perfect.

I grabbed a rope coiled near a shelf, tied it to the bar, and threw it down. The night air rushed in, cold. My hands trembled as I climbed out. Fortunately, there were no bodyguards in this area.

The rope burned my palms, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t look down. Not until my feet hit the ground.

I did it.

I actually did it.

For a second, I laughed. A shaky, broken laugh until reality hit me again. The gate.

My legs and body, bruised but I climbed. And somehow, I made it over.

The moment my feet touched the ground outside, I ran.

I didn’t stop until the mansion disappeared behind me.

My breath came out rushed. My body shook, half from exhaustion, half from fear. 

Just then, I saw headlights. It was a truck. Parked by the roadside.

I climbed in the back, squeezed between boxes that smelled of oil, pulled a tarp over myself, and prayed.

Soon enough, it started moving.

When it finally stopped, I peeked out. The driver looked like he was trying to repair something. It seemed the car had broken down. As he went far into the darkness trying to get help from passerbys, I slipped out and started walking. I couldn't stay there alone. My legs were shaky, but I kept going.

I was half an hour close to home until I heard footsteps behind me.

My heart froze.

I grabbed a stick from the ground, ready to swing. Could they have caught up on me?

But then.…“Help… help… me.”

A man stumbled out of the darkness, clutching his chest. Blood soaked his shirt. He looked barely older than me.

He collapsed before I could even react.

“Hey! Hey, are you okay!" I yelled, dropping beside him. His body was warm and hot against my palms.

“Help…” he whispered before his eyes rolled back.

“Damn it.”

I didn’t know who he was or what he’d done, but I couldn’t just leave him. I dragged him up, his weight heavy on my shoulder, and stumbled toward the faint light ahead. At that place was a clinic.

By the time we reached it, I was barely holding on. I knocked hard, dropped him by the door, and hid until I saw doctors rushing out. Only then did I breathe a sigh of relief.

I’d escaped hell… only to rescue someone else.

---

When I finally reached home, tears blurred my vision. The mansion stood just like before. Tall, warm and familiar.

“Dad!” I called, pushing the door open. “Dad, I’m back!”

No answer.

I laughed weakly, walking in. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you”

The house was silent. 

I checked his study but found it empty. Aside from stuffed books, only the faint scent of jasmine lingered.

Maybe he was in the basement.

I waited in the sitting room. Minutes passed. Then hours.

Something felt wrong. The house felt eerily silent.

When I finally moved toward the basement, my foot slipped on something wet. I looked down.

It was bl**d. Fresh and trailing deeper into the house.