Chapter Five

Julia's POV

The heavy door creaked open, and there he was. Lucian Moretti smiled, but not in the nasty, domineering manner I expected. He appeared as a shimmering shadow in low light.

His eyes, the same icy blue that had haunted my nightmares and dreams, were fixed on me with an unsettling calm. "How are you feeling, Jules?"

I struggled to gather my aching body, the pain from my sprained ankle radiating with every move. My throat tightened, and my heart raced with terror and rage. "Why would you care?"

He took a hesitant step inside, his voice fading to a silky murmur that twisted within me. "Because I'm the only person who matters right now."

My pupils drew together. "Don't talk to me like that; I'm not even sure who you are anymore."

Lucian's smile widened, harsh and knowing. "Don't you? Maybe you never did."

The way he said it made my blood run cold, as if he was hiding secrets behind those eyes, memories I had no right to see, and things I wasn't prepared to face.

He moved closer, returning his gaze from my foot to my face. His fingertips lightly brushed against my ankle, and despite the frigid rage simmering inside me, I shuddered. "You should rest it; don't try to walk on it."

I yanked away, despite my sharpening voice. "I don't need your sympathy.

"No," he replied, taking a step back as his smile faded. "You'll figure out how to control yourself eventually."

I cringed at the sudden change in his tone, which snapped like a whip. He was ruthless beneath his calm exterior.

He paused, his gaze intense enough to cause my heart to race and my skin to crawl. The cold edge reappeared unexpectedly and permeated the atmosphere.

"Listen carefully. You must not attempt to escape, because if you do, the consequences will be bloody—very bloody."

"Like you care if I run." A harsh laugh erupted from my throat. "Do you think I'm scared of you?"

"You should be," he said, his blue eyes darkening and becoming as keen as a knife's tip. "I care enough to ensure that you never leave and that you remember why."

As I looked around the room, I noticed a small photo on the floor near the big bed. I moved closer, leaping with my injured foot, and then I noticed it again.

I believe this is a younger version of him, before the sharp angles became a threat. There's a girl beside him, and that girl was me.

I still couldn’t believe it. My fingers trembled as I stroked the margins of the image. He must have stolen it and used it to bait me. I couldn't believe Lucian Moretti, the man who had bought, locked, and tortured me, was the same boy I used to call Luke, my childhood obsession and love.

However, he then spoke softly, sounding almost pleased.

"Luke," he said. "That's the name, correct? It's a short form, similar to how I call you Julie."

My breath caught as anguish and horror washed over me like a tidal wave. I wanted to scream, run away, and deny the truth that was emerging from the shadows.

"Luke," I muttered, my voice barely audible. "It can't be true."

"Jules," he muttered, searching for my eyes, which I refused to meet.

I shook my head, feeling frustrated. I don't recognize the person standing in front of me. You say my name as if you own me, yet you're simply some monster who bought me for unknown motives. So, tell me why. Why me? Why didn't you set me free instead of chaining me to your nightmare?"

Lucian's smile twisted into a caustic expression that combined derision and warmth. "Do you want answers?" "You want to understand how cute that is." He chuckled lowly, the sound dark and deadly. "I am nothing like you imagined. And that is your problem.

"You're a monster," I shouted, releasing the words I had kept inside for so long, filled with fury and desperation.

For a heartbeat, his expression was frozen. Then, like a switch flipped, his tranquility vanished.

"What did you just say?" His voice thundered, and his eyes blazed with furious rage.

"I said it. "You are a monster." A twisted shadow of the man I thought I knew." My voice shook with anxiety, but I refused to back down. Luke wouldn't act like this.

He rushed forward, his fingers slapping my cheek hard enough to send stinging heat through my skin. The piercing crack echoed around the room. I felt my burning skin, tears threatening to fall, not from pain, but from the maelstrom of rage and betrayal. I suppressed the sob that was swelling in my throat and stared back.

"Don't touch me..." His stare softened slightly, not out of kindness, but with something deeper and more deadly.

"Do you really want to know if I am a monster?" His voice was low and menacing. "Then you will see what monsters truly do."

I choked back a scream and touched my burning face. Tears obscured my eyes, not from pain, but from the wrath and dread coursing through my veins. My jaw clenched as he twisted me around and pushed me towards the door.

"Walk," he said, "on your own."

I elevated my damaged ankle, each step sending white-hot pain rushing through my leg. My breath hitched with every gasp and hiss, and tears streamed down as I cursed him with each laborious step.

"Why?" I said, my voice thick with anguish and confusion. "Why are you doing this to me?" "What did I do to deserve this?"

He didn't respond.

The passage twisted ahead, dark and frigid. The door at the end creaked open, revealing a room filled with shadows and flickering candlelight. The air was heavy and warm.

Inside, a man was bound to a chair, slumped and trembling. The man who had guarded me was the one I had defeated. His eyes were wide with horror, and his voice cracked as he screamed, "Please... don't kill me. I have a family."

Lucian stepped forward, his expression unreadable. He reached into his coat and took out a revolver. Cold steel glints in the low light. Then he handed it to me.

My fingers shook as I took the firearm, and my heart pounded so loudly that I felt he could hear it from across the room.

"Shoot him," Lucian whispered softly, his voice deceptively calm. "Prove you're not ready for freedom."

I stared down at the gun. Every instinct is screaming no. How could I shoot a man pleading for his life? Was he turning me into a monster? How could I trust Lucian when everything inside me said he was breaking me for reasons I couldn't fathom?

Then, without warning, I wheeled on Lucian and aimed the barrel straight at his forehead. His eyes widened briefly before a small smirk formed on his lips.

"So," he replied, his voice low and threatening. "You're learning. fast."