LOGIN~~LENA~~
I was completely fucked.
My hands shook as I pressed my back harder against the man behind me, my heart beating wildly.
“Who… who are you?” I whispered, my voice barely holding together.
A low, calm voice brushed against my ear, sending ice down my spine. “Someone who should never have been left waiting.”
I froze. There was no threat in his tone, only control.
“W-What do you want from me?”
“I’ve already told your parents what I want.” He tilted his head slightly, his breath warm against my skin. “You. Whether you like it or not.”
The irony wasn’t lost on me—not with the echo of the gunshot still ringing in my ears, blood spreading across the pavement, and him holding me like I belonged there.
I took a small breath and tried to step away. For a second, he let me.
Then—
“You’re going with me.”
I shook my head. “No.”
His hand tightened.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“You’re mine now.” His voice was calm, almost gentle, which somehow made it worse. “Your parents sold you to me. Debt paid in full.”
The words hit hard, but I forced my face to stay neutral. “You… you don’t have to remind me.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then his hand closed around mine. “Let’s go. You’ve wasted enough of my time already.”
Something in me snapped. I jerked my hand back. “Hey—are you deaf? I said I’m not going anywhere with you.”
He went completely still behind me. The sudden absence of movement terrified me more than anything else he had done.
Why did he react like that?
Before I could blink, cold metal pressed against my forehead.
My breath caught.
“Choose,” he said, voice now ice-cold. “You walk with me… or I kill you right here. With my bare hands if I have to. Trust me—I will.”
My heart slammed against my chest.
“I said I’m not—”
“Ten.”
“Seven.”
“I don’t care what you—”
“Three.”
Panic rushes through me.
“Two.”
“Okay!” I blurted out. “Okay… fine. I’ll go with you.”
The gun disappeared. His grip steadied again, almost gentle now, as if the last thirty seconds had never happened.
“Good girl,” he murmured. “Let’s go.”
He released my wrist and gestured toward a sleek black car idling at the mouth of the alley. I hesitated only a second before forcing my legs to move, ignoring the way my entire body screamed to run the other way.
The ride was silent, except for the faint hum of the engine.
I sat as far from him as the seat allowed, arms wrapped tightly around myself, staring out the window while city lights blurred past. My ankle still throbbed, but the pain felt distant compared to the storm in my chest.
“You know, you could’ve at least introduced yourself properly,” I said, voice tight. “Or… not threatened me with death?”
He glanced at me briefly. “Niccolò,” he said simply.
“What?”
“My name,” he replied calmly. “Consider it an introduction.”
I blinked, trying to process it. “Oh… right. Cool. Thanks for that, I guess?”
No reply.
I hated how small I sounded. I hated that I was trapped in this car with a man who could kill me and make it look easy.
“Don’t think this makes you some kind of hero,” I whispered, trying to sound braver than I felt. “I’m not impressed.”
“You should be.”
I snorted, gesturing at the gun. “Should I? Because last I checked, I’m following a man who could’ve killed me.”
He said nothing.
I stared out the window. Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
Fuck him.
The car slowed and turned into a long driveway. My stomach dropped as the massive mansion came into view—gleaming marble and glass, lit up like a nightmare I couldn’t wake from.
When we stopped, Niccolò stepped out first. I followed slowly, legs unsteady.
Maids and bodyguards straightened instantly, bowing their heads as we passed. The display made my skin crawl.
He glanced at me over his shoulder. “This is your home now.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You’ll get used to it,” he said, eyes sharp on mine. “They’re here to serve and protect you… and remember, I come first.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, daring me to argue.
Before I could respond, he added, “I have something to take care of. Don’t wait up.”
I watched him walk away, his coat shifting with each step as he disappeared down the long corridor.
*Don’t wait up?*
As if I would.
A maid stepped forward cautiously. “Miss… your room is ready.”
I followed her through hallways that smelled of wealth and silence. When she opened the door, I nearly laughed.
The room was enormous, with soft lighting and a bed bigger than my entire old bedroom.
“Great,” I muttered. “Luxury prison.”
The maid stiffened. “Pardon?”
“Nothing. You can go.”
She left with a soft click of the door.
Silence settled.
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my hands. The word “sold” kept echoing in my head.
“No,” I whispered. “That’s not… that’s not real.”
Later, another maid knocked quietly. “Dinner is ready, ma’am.”
“I don’t want to eat.”
She hesitated. “The boss said we should make sure you eat.”
“What the hell is his problem?” I muttered.
Letting out a slow breath, I softened my tone. “It’s okay. I just don’t feel like eating right now. When Niccolò comes back, I’ll tell him myself.”
She nodded and left.
I lay back, exhaustion creeping in. I reached for my phone.
12:34 AM.
Of course.
I dropped it back beside me and closed my eyes anyway, forcing myself to try. Maybe if I just lay still long enough, my body would give up before my mind did.
Then a loud crash echoed somewhere in the mansion.
My eyes flew open. For a while, nothing happened.
My heart started to pick up, but I forced myself to breathe slowly. Maybe I imagined it. Buildings make noise.
Then—a gunshot tore through the silence.
Yeah. Definitely not it.
~~LENA~~ The heat hit us the second Niccolò shattered the remaining glass in the window frame with the butt of his pistol. It wasn't a roaring inferno yet, but a thick, heavy, chemical smudge that tasted of melting plastic and old bond paper. The air was a yellowish-grey soup, hanging low under the corrugated steel roof of the shipping terminal. Niccolò slipped through the opening first, dropping into a low, tactical crouch on the oil-stained concrete floor. I followed immediately behind him, the sharp edge of the black steel box cutting into my side as I hauled myself over the sill. The second story of the terminal was an expansive, open-plan bullpen filled with rows of rusted steel desks, overturned filing cabinets, and dead computer monitors. At the far end of the floor, enclosed behind shattered glass partitions, sat the main executive office. That was where the fire was fed. A metal trash drum stood in the center of the office,
~~LENA~~ The forty-minute countdown hung over the dashboard like an invisible wire, tightening with every click of the odometer. Niccolò didn't speak. He pushed the sedan off the rural county asphalt and onto the multi-lane interstate heading back toward the city's industrial underbelly. The legal speed limit was sixty-five, but he held the needle at a steady seventy-two, fast enough to make time, anonymous enough to bleed into the morning commuter traffic beginning to choke the lanes. "River Road," Marco groaned from the back seat, shifting his weight with a sharp intake of breath. He had pulled himself up just enough to rest his chin against the door panel, his eyes bloodshot as he stared at the navigation signs flashing past. "That’s the old commercial docks. Silvio used to run his smuggling manifests out of the warehouses down there before Costa centralized the shipping lines. It's a fortress, Niccolò. It's all high concrete walls and single-lane choke points." "I know the lay
~~LENA~~The descent down the southern slope was a silent, frantic blur of branches slapping against my face and boots sliding through damp pine needles. The heavy black box under my coat bounced violently against my ribs with every stride, its sharp steel corners bruising my skin, but I didn't dare loosen my grip. Behind us, the thick, oily column of black smoke from Silvio’s burning SUV climbed high into the grey morning sky, a beacon marking exactly where we had broken through.Niccolò ran with an imposing, lethal efficiency, his weapon held low but ready, his eyes cutting through the thick pine trunks ahead. Beside him, Marco pressed a hand against his injured hip, his face deathly pale, trailing dark streaks of sweat and soot down his neck."Around the ridge," Niccolò muttered, adjusting his path toward a narrow, rock-strewn gully. "Fifty yards."We scrambled down the final incline, bursting through a wall of overgrown ferns into a
The heavy barrel of Silvio’s weapon didn't waver. It pointed directly at the center of Niccolò’s chest, dark and absolute against the swirling grey backdrop of the mountain fog.Nobody moved. The silence on the highway was suffocating, broken only by the rhythmic, low ticking of the SUV’s idling engine and the frantic, shallow breaths escaping Marco’s lungs beside me."Step away from him, Lena," Silvio said. His voice was terrifyingly calm, devoid of the frantic energy that had fueled his enforcers down in the ravine. It was the voice of a man executing a routine business transaction. "Bring the box here, and you walk away from this hill alive. You have my word.""Your word isn't worth the ink on your ledger, Silvio," Niccolò spat, his own weapon leveled perfectly at Silvio’s head. His posture hadn't shifted an inch, but I could feel the intense, coiled kinetic energy vibrating through his frame. He was calculating the draw speed, the distance, the br
Chapter 85 Lena’s POV The western slope of the ravine was a vertical wall of slick pine needles, loose shale, and tangled brambles that clawed at my clothes. Every foot of elevation had to be fought for. I dug the toes of my sneakers into the crumbling dirt, my right hand tearing at exposed tree roots to haul my weight upward, while my left arm remained wrapped in a crushing grip around the cold, heavy steel of the ledger under my coat. Behind me, Niccolò kept pace, his breathing deep and rhythmic, his dark eyes constantly scanning the ridgeline above us. Marco climbed ahead, his limp more pronounced with every step, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscles in his face jumped in pain. "They're behind us," Marco hissed, pausing to look back down the steep drop. His hand hovered near his side, trembling. Through the dense, foggy lattice of the pines, the shadows at the bottom of the ravine were shifting. Si
Chapter 83 Lena’s POV "Lock the vault," Niccolò barked, his voice cutting through the panic like a razor blade. He didn't wait to see if I complied. In one fluid, lethal motion, he slammed the lid of the black steel box shut, the internal gears instantly clicking back into a locked position. He scooped the heavy case off the workbench, shoved it into my arms, and pushed me toward the deepest corner of the room behind Father Thomas. "Arthur, is there another way out of this rectory?" Niccolò demanded, his weapon already drawn, his dark eyes fixed on the heavy oak door. The caretaker’s hands shook as he gripped his ring of keys. "The old crypt drainage tunnel. It leads down into the limestone quarry at the bottom of the ridge. But the iron gate hasn't been opened since the seventies." "It’s going to open today," Niccolò said.
~~LENA~~“He’s coming today,” my stepmother said.I froze in the middle of the hallway, still wearing yesterday’s clothes. “What?”“Yes, Lena, you heard me right. He’s coming today.” She turned me toward my bedroom door. “So go get dressed. Something tight. Show your curves. Make sure he likes what
~~LENA~~I knew something was wrong the moment I pushed the door open.“Lena!”My stepmother’s voice sliced through the silence from the kitchen.I dropped my bag near the door and walked in slowly. The acrid smell of burnt stew hung thick in the air.“I just got back,” I said carefully.She turned
~~LENA~~A knock sounded at my door.I was still irritated from lunch, lying on the bed and replaying Niccolò’s cold I can’t over and over in my head while staring at the ceiling. A small, embarrassing part of me hoped it was him. Maybe coming to explain himself. Maybe at least pretending he cared
~~ NICCOLÒ~~My fingers tightened around the folder until the edges bit into my palm. The paper creased under the pressure, but I barely felt it.For a moment I just stood there, staring at the closed door.“I’d rather die than marry you.”She had no idea how dangerous those words were in my world.







