Chapter 2: The Devil’s Demand

The gates creaked open at exactly ten a.m.

Siena’s hands trembled on the steering wheel as the black iron doors parted, revealing the long private road winding up toward the estate. Every inch of her body screamed to turn back. But Lucia slept in the backseat, and Siena had no choice.

She drove through, heart pounding.

The house emerged like a shadow—sleek lines, stone walls, floor-to-ceiling windows that mirrored the cloud-covered sky. A fortress. Cold. Imposing. Just like him.

She parked near the entrance and exhaled slowly. “We’re just here to talk,” she whispered to herself. “He’ll see her, and then we’ll leave.”

But she didn’t believe it.

Not really.

The front door opened before she could knock. Adriano stood there, dressed in black slacks and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Casual. Effortless. Dangerous.

His eyes dropped immediately to the little girl in her car seat.

Lucia stirred and blinked sleepily. “Mommy, where are we?”

Siena stepped out, unbuckling her gently. “We’re visiting someone, baby. Just for a little while.”

Adriano didn’t say a word as they walked past him. He didn’t need to. His presence was loud enough.

The inside was even colder than she remembered. Clean lines, marble floors, high ceilings. No warmth. No life. Just power and silence.

“Sit,” he ordered, motioning to the leather couch in the living room.

Siena obeyed, clutching Lucia close.

Adriano sat across from them, his gaze locked on the child now nestled in her mother’s lap.

Lucia tilted her head. “Hi.”

His brows lifted.

Siena’s breath caught. “This is Lucia.”

Adriano’s jaw clenched. “How old is she?”

“Four.”

Silence.

Lucia, unfazed, twisted in her mother’s arms and reached toward the table. “Do you have any juice?”

Adriano rose without a word and disappeared into the kitchen. Siena wanted to scream at the absurdity of it. The Devil in his lair, pouring juice for a four-year-old.

He returned with a glass and set it down. “Apple.”

Lucia beamed. “Thank you.”

He nodded, sitting again. “She looks like me.”

Siena met his gaze, fire in her voice. “Because she is yours.”

Another beat of silence. His expression didn’t change, but something shifted behind his eyes.

“And you thought you could hide her from me forever?”

“I was trying to protect her.”

“From me?”

“Yes.”

Adriano leaned forward slowly, elbows on his knees. “She’s mine, Siena. You don’t get to decide that.”

“You lost that right the day you left me in pieces.”

“She’s mine,” he repeated, each word like steel. “And I’m not letting her go again.”

---

Siena swallowed hard, wrapping her arms tighter around Lucia, whose small fingers now played absentmindedly with the hem of her mother's sleeve.

“You don’t get to just claim her,” Siena said, her voice lower now, shaken but stubborn. “You weren’t there. You didn’t even know.”

“I know now.”

Adriano's voice dropped, quiet as thunder. “And that changes everything.”

He stood and walked to the tall window behind him, the glass reflecting the tension that stretched between them like a wire ready to snap.

“You think I’ll just hand her over to you?” Siena rose too, holding Lucia against her hip. “You think I’ll let a man like you near her? You threaten people. You kill them.”

He turned sharply, his face carved in cold fury. “I protect what’s mine.”

“By putting guns in their faces?”

He stepped closer.

Siena didn’t back down.

“Do you think I don’t know who you are now?” she whispered. “I saw it, Adriano. The blood. The way they feared you. That’s not the man I loved.”

“No,” he agreed. “That man died the night you left.”

The words sliced through her.

He saw it—how she flinched, how her breath hitched.

Lucia looked between them, then softly, “Mommy… are we going home?”

Siena blinked, her throat tightening. “Yes, sweetheart. We’ll go soon.”

“No,” Adriano cut in. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Her head snapped toward him.

“You brought her here. To me. You should’ve known this wouldn’t be temporary.”

“She’s not a bargaining chip—”

“She’s not a chip,” he growled. “She’s my daughter.”

“And what do you want now?” she hissed. “Me in your bed again, playing house in a mansion built on blood?”

He was in front of her now, closer than he should be. Lucia shrank back in her arms.

Adriano’s voice dropped to a murmur. “I want what’s mine. You. Her. Everything I lost when you disappeared.”

“You mean everything you destroyed.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged slightly. “But that doesn’t change the fact I can keep her safe. You can’t.”

Tears burned in her eyes. “Don’t you dare say that.”

“You’re broke. Working nights while she coughs herself to sleep. You brought her to me for help, Siena. I’m giving it to you.”

Her lips parted—but no words came.

Adriano lowered his voice again. “Stay here. Both of you. One month. I’ll give you doctors, security, anything she needs. In exchange, you’re mine.”

“Mine?”

He leaned in, brushing a knuckle along her jaw. “Mine.”

Siena didn’t move. Couldn’t.

Lucia fell asleep on her shoulder.

And the devil in front of her waited… smiling.

---