Chapter 20: No Exit

The villa had turned into a fortress.

Iron gates locked. Cameras tracking every flicker of motion. Armed guards at every door, posted like statues. Drones above the property. Even the birds didn’t seem brave enough to fly too close.

But Siena Costa had never felt more trapped.

She sat by the wide window in one of the guest rooms, overlooking the rain-slicked drive. Somewhere in the shadows beyond those trees, danger waited — real, breathing men with guns and hunger in their eyes.

And they weren’t just after Adriano anymore.

The walls might’ve been thick, the alarms sensitive, but she knew — safety was an illusion. The kind you could taste right before it shattered.

She heard the quiet sound of the door opening behind her. No knock. Just the soft click of someone who knew he didn’t need permission.

Adriano.

She didn’t turn to face him. Just kept watching the trees sway.

“You should try to rest,” he said.

Siena’s voice was a whisper. “Lucia’s asleep. I’m not leaving her alone.”

“I posted two guards at her door.”

She turned, finally, eyes sharp. “Then you already knew I wouldn’t sleep either.”

He didn’t deny it.

Instead, he walked past her, his steps silent, and poured a glass of water from the crystal decanter on the table.

“I locked the gates myself,” he said. “No one goes in or out.”

“And the road?” Siena asked.

“Blocked.”

“You think that’s enough?”

Adriano met her gaze. “I don’t think. I know. They’re watching the road. If we try to leave now, they’ll follow. Or worse.”

“Then we should’ve left last night,” she snapped. “Before they tightened the noose.”

He stepped forward, slow and deliberate.

“I don’t risk her life on hope,” he said. “Or yours.”

Silence.

Then, more quietly, he added, “They’re not after just me anymore. They want what’s mine.”

Siena’s breath hitched.

“What’s… yours?” she asked, afraid of the answer.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t hesitate.

“You.”

---

The room fell into a hush after that one word.

You.

It shouldn’t have shocked her — not after everything. Not after Geneva, after Milan, after that moment in the hallway when his body had caged hers and his voice had cracked open every wall she’d spent years rebuilding.

But hearing it out loud — in that quiet, clipped tone — made something inside her stutter.

Siena didn’t move. Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it would echo through the walls.

“You don’t get to say that,” she whispered finally, eyes locked on him. “You don’t get to decide who I belong to.”

Adriano tilted his head, gaze steady. “I didn’t say you belong to me.”

“You just did.”

“No.” He took another step forward, and suddenly, the distance between them felt thinner. “I said they think you do. And that means they’ll come for you.”

She folded her arms tightly across her chest. “And what about what I want?”

“What do you want?”

“I want…” she faltered.

The truth was there. It had been there for days now, pressed against her ribs like a secret she didn’t know how to carry.

She wanted safety. She wanted clarity.

She wanted Adriano Valtasari to stop looking at her like she was the only thing tethering him to sanity.

But she also wanted…

God.

She didn’t know anymore.

Siena turned back to the window, voice quieter now. “I don’t want to be afraid.”

“You’re not,” he said behind her.

She exhaled a shaky breath. “How do you know?”

“Because you came back for answers. Because you walked into my study when the world outside was crumbling. Because you didn’t flinch when I killed a man at your feet.”

She closed her eyes.

“That doesn’t mean I’m not afraid,” she murmured.

“No,” he said. “But it means you’re stronger than your fear.”

There was something in his voice now. Softer. Not quite comfort — he didn’t know how to offer that — but something close. Something raw.

She heard his steps move closer.

When she turned again, he was standing just inches away.

His hand lifted.

Not to touch her cheek.

Not to pull her closer.

But to hesitate in the air between them — an offering without demand.

And then, slowly, gently, he took her hand.

Not with hunger. Not with force.

Just quiet pressure. Fingers curling around hers like a question.

Siena’s first instinct was to pull away.

Her body tensed, muscles twitching with the need to flee, to fight, to not feel what she was feeling.

But she didn’t move.

Because the warmth of his palm grounded her.

Because the tremble in her own fingertips calmed beneath his.

Because she was tired of pretending that everything inside her wasn’t already breaking open.

He didn’t speak.

He just stood there.

And for a long, still moment — neither of them was a prisoner to the past.

They were simply here.

Together.

In silence.

Until a knock on the door shattered it all.

Adriano’s grip tightened slightly. “Stay here,” he said.

But this time — she didn’t want to.

---

The knock was followed by a hushed voice through the door. “Mr. Valtasari. Movement along the west perimeter.”

Adriano let go of Siena’s hand.

Not abruptly. Not violently.

But as if the moment had simply run out of time.

He moved toward the door with the smooth, silent precision of a man trained for war. His shoulders squared, jaw set, voice sharp.

“Report.”

The guard — young, pale, his earpiece still blinking — didn’t meet his eyes. “Two figures. Cameras caught them crossing the treeline. We’re rerouting drones. No breach yet.”

Adriano nodded once. “Double security inside. Floor-to-floor sweep. Keep her—” his glance flicked back to Siena, “—informed of any changes. And make sure no one enters the clinic wing.”

“Yes, sir.”

The guard disappeared.

Adriano turned back.

And Siena wasn’t sure what stunned her more — the growing fear curling in her stomach, or the quiet authority that radiated off him like heat. Not bluster. Not cruelty.

Just command.

She remembered what Zara once said.

You’ve changed.

But Siena wasn’t sure that was true.

Maybe this was always who he was — both the blade and the shield. The monster and the man.

And now he was both for her.

“Why don’t we just leave?” she asked again, her voice smaller than she meant.

Adriano didn’t answer right away. He walked to the window and looked out across the foggy treetops.

Then, quietly: “Because there’s more than one road out of Geneva. And if they’ve already found this one, I can’t gamble the other.”

Siena’s breath caught.

“You think they’ll try to get in?”

“I think they already are,” he said, matter-of-fact. “But this villa was built for war. They won’t get far.”

She took a step toward him. “And if they do?”

Adriano turned his head slowly. His eyes weren’t cold this time.

They were burning.

“I’ll kill every one of them,” he said softly. “Before they even touch your shadow.”

Her heart thundered.

Not because she doubted him.

But because she didn’t.

For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.

The rain began again — faint, insistent, tapping at the windows like fate itself knocking to be let in.

Siena spoke, barely a whisper. “You terrify me.”

Adriano didn’t blink. “I terrify myself.”

Then he walked out.

And this time, she didn’t follow.

But the feeling in her chest did.

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