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Chapter 6: What if it was drugged, or worse, poisoned?

Author: Oma Green
last update Last Updated: 2025-09-09 23:26:19

Gianna’s POV

My mouth went dry as I backed away, each step slower than the last. Dante’s voice, deep and terrifying, sent a chill crawling down my spine.

This wasn’t a nightmare I could wake up from.

This was real.

Dante De Luca, the monster who shot my father, was real. Flesh and blood. And I was alone in his home with no way out. There was only one path laid out for me: to be his mistress. For life.

Terror pressed down on my chest. I couldn’t breathe. My lips trembled.

“God help me,” I whispered, barely able to get the words out. “This can’t be my life. I can’t belong to this monster.”

He tilted his head, amused.

Then he laughed, cruelly.

“No one’s coming to save you,” he mocked.

The dark humor in his tone pierced through my chest, driving the panic deeper. The room seemed to tilt, everything fading around me.

“I can’t be trapped here,” I muttered. “I refuse to be trapped here.”

My breathing quickened, and it felt like my senses slipped away from me.

“Help!” I screamed, eyes darting around the lavish living room until they landed on the massive steel door across the room. My adrenaline surged. That was it, the way out.

I didn’t think, I just ran. I threw myself at the door, gripped the handle with both hands, and yanked hard.

Nothing.

“Help!” I screamed again, banging my fists against the metal. “Please! Anyone, please!”

Suddenly a screen lit up on the wall beside the door, blinking cold blue text.

To open, enter code.

Dread crashed into me like a wave. I had no code. No way out. I was locked in.

Behind me, I heard him laugh again. He sounded amused, like I was putting on a show just for him.

“Little firecracker,” Dante murmured. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

I spun around, breathing ragged, but he was already there, towering over me.

“Surely you’ve figured it out by now,” he said, his tone colder than stone. “I own not just this building, but the entire estate. Even if by some miracle you got through that door, you wouldn’t make it ten steps. My men are stationed at every exit. You’d be dragged back to me, bleeding, if they’re feeling generous.”

His eyes darkened as he stepped closer.

I stepped back, one foot at a time, until my spine hit the steel door. His words made it clear, there was nowhere to run. I didn’t even know where I was or how to make it out.

Still, what was I supposed to do? Just give in?

I had to try. Who wouldn’t try to run from their father’s killer?

I opened my mouth to scream again, but before a sound could escape, he grabbed me. His hand clamped over my mouth.

“Strike one, little girl,” he hissed into my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Try that again, and I’ll punish you.”

My blood boiled with fear and fury. I wasn’t a child. I wasn’t some pet he could threaten into obedience. Rage surged up and took over.

So I bit him.

Hard.

He cursed under his breath and pulled back. I slipped from his grasp and stumbled away.

“Let me out of here!” I cried. “I’m not interested in being your whore!”

He looked at little bite mark on his palm,

and fury overtook him.

Before I could move again, he grabbed me and slammed me back against the door. The impact rattled through my bones.

I gasped, but it turned into a choked whimper as his hand wrapped tight around my throat and lifted me off the ground. My feet dangled in the air.

I clawed at his arm, kicking helplessly, lungs burning.

“Little girl,” he growled, his eyes burning into mine, “I could end it all right now. I could squeeze the life from you and watch your body hit this floor, and not lose a single hour of sleep.”

My vision blurred. My body trembled.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t think.

“Please,” I rasped, voice barely a whisper. “Stop. I can’t breathe.”

“Can’t you now?” he sneered, his grip loosening slightly. “And what exactly did you think, Gianna? That you could go against me and walk away?”

I shook my head wildly, tears spilling down my cheeks. My limbs started to go numb.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” I choked out. “It was a mistake. Just don’t kill me, please.”

The look in his eyes softened, just for a moment.

And then, slowly, he released his grip and let me down.

My feet hit the ground shakily, knees threatening to give out beneath me as I gasped for air.

Instinctively, my hand flew to my throat, coughing uncontrollably, each breath scraping against the pain circling there.

A painful reminder of how close I’d come to losing it all. I didn’t even know what I’d been thinking. How could I have been so reckless?

I didn’t want to see his face, not after feeling his fingers wrapped around my throat, squeezing the air out of me like I was nothing. A toy to be broken. A lesson to be taught.

But then I felt his arms, warm and strong, wrap around me. And before I could flinch, he lifted me with a startling gentleness, as if none of it had just happened.

I gasped again, stunned by the softness in his touch, but I knew better than to fight him now.

I knew exactly what he was capable of.

He walked across the massive living room with me cradled in his arms like a doll. Then he lowered me onto the velvet sofa carefully, as though I might break if he set me down too hard.

Still not knowing what to make of this version of him, I crawled away from him, just a few inches, but he reached out, brushing my hair gently away from my face.

His fingers trailed to my neck, slow and careful. His touch was soft, but it still made me tense. He examined the marks, fingertips grazing the skin he’d just tried to crush.

“It’s just faintly bruised,” he said, his voice tender now. “I’ll get you something for it.”

I simply nodded.

I didn’t trust myself not to say something provoking, and I didn’t want to risk angering him again.

Then he stepped back and looked at me with a coldness that made my blood run colder.

“That was strike two,” he warned.

“And by the third strike, you’ll regret you ever went against me.”

My heart stilled.

“You want to get punished, Gianna? Keep pushing.”

It was the first time he had said my name out loud, and for some unexplainable reason, shivers raced down my spine at the way the last syllable rolled off his tongue.

He rose without another word and crossed the room, pressing a button on a small control panel built into the wall.

A few seconds later, the massive steel door swung open, and a woman walked in. She looked like she was in her forties, and she held a silver tray with a glass of water.

“Here, young lady.” She offered the glass with a kind voice, though her eyes darted between me and Dante like she was scared for me.

I blinked at her. How could someone who looked so decent, so normal, work for a man like this?

Then I felt his gaze on me again.

I slowly reached for the glass, my hand shaking. The woman gave me a quiet nod, then stepped back. She and Dante exchanged a single glance. Nothing was said, but she passed something to him that I couldn’t quite make out.

And their mannerism told me everything I needed to know about their relationship. They’d probably worked together for a long time. Maybe she had seen worse. Maybe she was used to it.

My dad had taught me how to read people’s body movements in one of the many lessons he put me through. Now I wished I had paid more attention when he spoke, but I had been too busy living a sheltered life, never knowing the day would come when I would be all alone.

The glass shook in my hand as I stared down at the clear liquid.

It looked normal, but I didn’t feel safe.

My thoughts raced. What if it was drugged, or worse, poisoned?

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