The Abduction

I barely slept. Every creak in the walls, every whisper of rain against the windows made me flinch. The room was too quiet — too big, too unfamiliar. I could feel the house breathing around me, alive in its own dark way.

When I’d first woken up here, I’d told myself I wouldn’t panic. That I’d find a way out. But hours had passed, and all I’d done was wear a hole in the carpet pacing.

The door was locked. The windows were barred. Even the curtains looked expensive enough to strangle someone.

I pressed my ear against the door again, listening for footsteps. Nothing. Maybe they’d all gone to sleep. Maybe if I was quiet enough, I could—

The handle clicked.

I jumped back just as the door swung open, light spilling from the hallway. Two men stood there, the same ones from before — broad, silent, built like security walls. One of them nodded toward me. “The boss wants to see you.”

I didn’t move. “Tell your boss I’m not interested.”

The taller one frowned. “Don’t make this difficult.”

“Oh, I plan to,” I snapped. “You think you can keep me here like some—”

Before I could finish, the man stepped forward. I ducked under his arm, bolting toward the window. I didn’t have a plan — just pure instinct screaming run. My fingers clawed at the latch, but his hand closed around my wrist, yanking me backward.

“Let go!” I shouted, twisting, kicking, anything to break free. My heel connected with his shin, and he cursed under his breath. “She bites,” the other one muttered, sounding almost amused.

“I do more than bite!” I swung again, landing a slap that echoed across the room. For a second, everything went still. His jaw flexed, but he didn’t hit back. Instead, he grabbed both my arms, holding me still.

“Easy, ragazza,” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t make me—”

“Don’t make you what?” I hissed. “You think I’m afraid of you?”

“Sienna.” The new voice froze me in place.

I turned. Luca stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable. He looked calm — too calm — like a man watching chaos he’d already predicted.

“Enough,” he said to the men. “Leave us.”

The grip on my arms loosened immediately. I stepped back, rubbing the red marks on my wrists, glaring at him.

He entered the room slowly, shutting the door behind him. For a moment, we just stared at each other. The air between us felt charged, heavy, like lightning waiting to strike.

“You don’t listen well,” he said finally.

“You don’t ask well,” I shot back. “Normal people don’t lock women in rooms when they want to talk.”

He almost smiled — almost. “You call yourself normal?”

I folded my arms. “Compared to you? Yeah.”

He took a step closer. “You fight like a street cat.”

“I grew up having to survive. What’s your excuse?”

That one landed. His jaw tightened, but instead of snapping back, he laughed softly — a dark, low sound that somehow made my skin prickle. “You really are different.”

“I’m not her,” I said again, sharper this time. “Whatever fantasy you’ve got going, wake up from it.”

His eyes darkened. “Don’t say that name like it means nothing.”

“I didn’t even say a name.”

“You didn’t have to.” His voice dropped an octave, rough around the edges. “Every word you speak, every move you make — it’s her, but it’s not. I can’t decide if it’s cruel or a miracle.”

I rolled my eyes. “You need therapy, not an audience.”

He exhaled slowly, moving to the window. The moonlight hit his profile, highlighting the sharp lines of his face. “Do you believe in fate, Sienna?”

I blinked. “Do I look like someone who’s had good luck?”

He turned to me. “Maybe this isn’t luck. Maybe it’s balance.”

“Balance?” I repeated, incredulous. “You kidnapped me to fix your karma?”

“Don’t twist my words,” he warned, but there was no anger behind it — just weariness. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then explain it.”

He hesitated. “Years ago, I lost someone I shouldn’t have lost. The one person who made me believe I could still feel something. And now… she’s standing in front of me again.”

“I told you,” I said quietly, “you’ve got the wrong person.”

His gaze flickered — not uncertainty, but frustration. “You think I don’t know the difference between a lie and a miracle?”

“That depends,” I said, my voice trembling despite my best effort to sound calm. “Are you sober enough to tell them apart?”

For a second, I thought he’d snap. But instead, he laughed again, short and humorless. “You’re not afraid of me.”

“I am,” I admitted, “but I’m angrier than I am scared.”

He studied me like I was a puzzle he couldn’t solve. “You shouldn’t be either.”

“Then let me go.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

His silence said everything.

I took a step toward him, my voice rising. “You’re not a god, Luca. You don’t get to decide who stays and who doesn’t. I don’t care what you lost or who you think I am — I’m leaving.”

He didn’t move. Just stared, breathing slow, steady, too calm for a man who’d just been told off by his own hostage. Then, without warning, he grabbed my wrist again — not harshly this time, but firmly enough to make me stop.

“Tell me something,” he said softly. “If you’re not her… why do you look exactly like her?”

“I don’t know,” I hissed, trying to pull free. “Maybe she’s my evil twin. Maybe you’re blind.”

He smirked faintly. “Evil twin fits.”

“Let go.”

He did — instantly. The sudden release made me stumble. I caught myself on the edge of the desk, glaring at him.

“You could make this easier,” he said. “You could tell me who you really are.”

“I already did,” I snapped. “Sienna DeLuca. Mechanic. Lives in the Bronx. Has no connection to whatever tragic love story you’re stuck in.”

He tilted his head, something flickering behind his eyes. “DeLuca,” he repeated slowly. “You said that before.”

“Yeah. It’s called a last name.”

His expression changed — not shock, not quite recognition, but something close. “DeLuca,” he whispered again, almost to himself. “How convenient.”

“What does that mean?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached for the phone on the table and pressed a button. “Marco,” he said, his tone crisp now, all business. “Find everything you can on a woman named Sienna DeLuca. Address, family, history. I want it tonight.”

My stomach dropped. “You can’t just—”

“Oh, I can,” he said calmly. “And I will.”

“You’re insane.”

“Maybe.” His eyes met mine. “But I’m thorough.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. The rain outside had stopped, leaving only the distant hum of thunder. I stood there, breathing hard, trying to figure out if I could make it to the door before he caught me again.

He must’ve seen the thought flicker across my face, because his lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “Don’t.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Yes, you were.”

He stepped closer again, voice dropping to a murmur. “You’re not afraid to fight me, are you?”

“Should I be?”

He looked at me for a long moment, then shook his head slightly. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

“And you don’t know who you just kidnapped,” I shot back.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Maybe that’s what makes this interesting.”

Something about the way he said it — low, controlled, but with an edge that promised danger — made my pulse jump.

He took one last look at me before turning for the door. “Get some rest.”

“Yeah, because sleeping in my kidnapper’s mansion sounds super relaxing.”

He stopped at the threshold. “You’ll thank me later.”

“For what? Ruining my life?”

“For saving it.”

That one made me laugh — sharp and humorless. “From what? A job? Rent? Reality?”

His eyes met mine, colder now. “From the people who would’ve done far worse.”

Before I could ask what that meant, he walked out, the door locking behind him with a soft click.

---

I sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the locked door. My whole body was buzzing — with fear, anger, confusion. Nothing made sense.

Who was this man? Why did he think I was someone else? And why did I feel like his name — Luca Romano — had been whispered somewhere in my past before, buried deep where memories blurred?

I looked at the clock. 3:12 a.m.

The rain had stopped. The house was quiet again.

Too quiet.

Then I heard it. The faintest sound outside the window — a car engine starting. Headlights flashed briefly across the wall before fading.

I rushed to the glass, pulling the curtain aside just enough to peek out. Down in the driveway, I saw a black car rolling toward the gates. Luca was in the back seat, phone pressed to his ear, expression unreadable.

And that’s when I saw something that made my stomach twist — the man in the passenger seat was holding a file with my name on it. Sienna DeLuca.

My heart dropped.

He was digging into my life.

Whatever came next, I had to be ready.

Because Luca Romano wasn’t just a man looking for answers.

He was a man who didn’t stop until he got them.

And for the first time, I realized I wasn’t just a mistake in his story — I was about to become part of it.