CHAPTER 5

Dahlia’s POV

Time seemed to stop. My mouth went dry. My legs felt like they had turned to jelly. I couldn’t think. I wanted to pull my hand away, to step back, to scream, but the fear in his eyes and the power in his voice made me freeze in place.

My heart raced so fast it felt like it would explode. What… what did he just say? I thought, my mind spinning. Is he serious? Is this real?

The housekeeper glanced at him and then back at me. She didn’t say anything, didn’t blink. It was as if she expected me to obey without question.

I could feel the weight of Luca’s gaze on me, dark and intense, like he was watching not just my body, but my thoughts too. Every instinct in me screamed to run, but the thought of leaving the house, of disobeying him, was terrifying.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry, trying to steady my shaking legs. My mind raced with a million thoughts: I just met this man. I barely know him. And now… now he’s asking me to… My stomach churned, and cold sweat broke out across my skin.

I glanced at the staircase again, my eyes trailing up its long, curving steps. It looked impossibly far away, like some giant mountain I wasn’t ready to climb. My legs already felt heavy, trembling as if they didn’t want to move. Just the thought of walking up there made my stomach twist with dread. And yet, I couldn’t ignore him. The way he had looked at me—his eyes dark, cold, and commanding—told me this wasn’t something I could refuse. His voice had been sharp like a blade, cutting into me with no room for argument. It wasn’t a request. It was an order.

A hollow feeling settled deep in my chest, spreading like ice through my veins. My heart thudded painfully, each beat echoing in my ears, and for the first time it hit me fully—I was trapped. I wasn’t going back home. I wasn’t walking away from this. No one was going to save me.

I forced my legs to move, one shaky step at a time, following the housekeeper who walked quietly in front of me. She didn’t look back to check on me, but somehow I could feel she knew how scared I was. The silence wrapped around us, making the sound of our footsteps louder, almost too loud. My heels clicked softly against the marble floor, and every sound seemed to bounce off the tall walls of the mansion.

We reached the staircase, and I swallowed hard before climbing. The steps seemed to stretch on forever, and with each one, my chest grew tighter. The railings were smooth and polished, shining faintly under the golden lights that lined the walls. I brushed my fingers against them just to steady myself, but even my hands were shaking too much to hold on properly.

At the top, the hallway stretched wide and quiet, lit by lamps with warm yellow light. The air smelled faintly of roses and expensive perfume, mixed with a woody scent that made the space feel grand but not comforting. Doors lined the corridor, tall and carved with patterns, each one looking heavy and important. It was the kind of hallway that felt like it belonged to a palace rather than a house.

The housekeeper walked at a steady pace, her shoes barely making a sound on the polished floor. I followed her, my steps slow and uncertain, like I was walking toward something I already feared. My palms were clammy, and I kept rubbing them against my dress just to dry them, though it didn’t help. My throat felt dry, and no matter how many times I swallowed, it only burned more.

Finally, she stopped at one of the doors near the end of the hallway. It was tall and made of dark wood, with a gold handle that caught the light. She turned to me, her expression calm, though there was something in her eyes—something I couldn’t quite name.

“My name is Mrs. Cruz,” she said softly, her voice calm and almost motherly, though I could tell she was choosing her words carefully. “This is Mr. Romano’s room… and yours as well.”

Her words sank into me like stones thrown into deep water. My room? The thought made me want to step back, to shake my head, to refuse. But my body stayed still, too frozen to do anything. I forced myself to nod, even though I felt my chest tightening until it hurt.

“Thank you,” I whispered, though the words sounded thin and broken, like they weren’t really mine.

I reached for the golden handle with trembling fingers, trying to steady my breathing, but before I could push the door open, Mrs. Cruz leaned closer. Her face softened, and for the first time I saw real emotion in her eyes.

“Obey Mr. Romano,” she whispered, her tone quiet, almost secretive, like she didn’t want anyone else to hear. But there was sympathy in her voice, heavy and clear, like she was warning me and pitying me at the same time.

The words sank into my skin, cold and heavy. My heart skipped a beat, then another, and for a moment I forgot how to breathe. I froze with my hand on the handle, every part of me shaking inside.

She straightened quickly, her face going blank again, like she hadn’t said anything at all. Without another word, she stepped back and gave me a small nod before walking away, her footsteps fading down the long hall.

I stood there in front of the door, completely alone now. The silence pressed against me from all sides, so heavy it almost hurt. My hand was still on the handle, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn it. My skin prickled, and the pit in my stomach grew bigger and bigger.

Her words kept echoing in my head. Obey Mr. Romano.

I swallowed hard, my throat painfully dry. My chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. There was no escape. Whatever was behind that door, I knew I couldn’t run from it.

I tightened my grip on the golden handle until my palm ached, my fingers trembling so badly I thought I might drop it. My chest felt heavy, like someone had placed a rock on it, and every shaky breath I let out only seemed to make the silence in the hallway louder. With a small push, I forced the door open, the hinges groaning softly like they were warning me not to enter.

The room stretched out before me like something out of a nightmare and a dream at the same time. It was massive, too big for one person. The walls were painted in dark, brooding colors—shadows clung to the corners as if even the light from the chandelier above dared not chase them away. A faint smell of expensive cologne lingered in the air, mixed with leather and something metallic I couldn’t name, but it made my stomach twist.

My eyes landed on the bed, and I froze. It was huge, draped in sheets so dark they almost blended with the shadows. The headboard was tall, carved wood that looked older than me, and the pillows were arranged perfectly, not a crease out of place. The bed was the kind of thing that demanded attention, like it knew what it was meant for. My cheeks burned at the thought, and my heart thumped louder.

Go upstairs and wait for me. Naked.

His order replayed in my head over and over again until I felt dizzy. My hands reached for the zipper at the back of my wedding dress, my fingers brushing against the cold metal. But I couldn’t do it. My body locked up. The thought of undressing here, in this strange room, for a man whose eyes terrified me more than any nightmare—it made bile rise in my throat. My hands trembled too much, my breath coming fast and shallow.

I stayed frozen, standing stiffly in the middle of the room, clutching the lace of my gown like it was my only shield.

Then I heard it.