Chapter nine

Elara

I wake up to the sound of my door opening.

Not knocking.

Opening.

I jolt upright in bed, heart slamming hard against my ribs.

For half a second, I don’t know where I am. Then the heavy curtains, the unfamiliar ceiling, the silence of the mansion crash back into me.

A maid steps in, eyes down.

“Get dressed,” she says quietly. “You’re needed.”

My throat tightens. “Needed… where?”

She hesitates. “The master asked for you.”

Of course he did.

I slide out of bed, my legs shaky, my skin cold despite the thick covers. My mind races through possibilities. Punishment. More rules. Maybe worse.

I dress quickly. Simple clothes. Nothing tight. Nothing that could draw attention.

By the time I step into the hallway, two guards are already waiting.

They don’t speak.

They just lead.

The mansion feels different today.

Heavier.

Every step echoes too loudly. Every corner feels watched. When we reach the sitting room, the guards stop.

“Wait,” one says.

The door opens.

“Send her in.”

Dante’s voice.

My stomach drops.

I step inside.

He’s standing by the window, jacket on, posture rigid. Luca is there too, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

Dante doesn’t turn around right away.

“You’re late,” he says.

“I came as soon as they told me,” I replied softly.

He turns then. His gaze pins me in place.

“From now on,” he says, “you move when I say.”

“Yes, sir.”

He studies my face like he’s measuring something.

“Results came back,” he says.

My fingers curl into my palms.

“I know,” I say. “They told me I’m… healthy.”

“You’re more than healthy,” he replies flatly.

Heat creeps up my neck.

“You will follow a new schedule,” he continues. “Doctors. Nutritionists. Security.”

Security?

“I won’t be alone anymore?” I ask before I can stop myself.

Something flickers in his eyes.

“No,” he says. “You won’t.”

I don’t know whether to feel relieved or afraid.

Luca clears his throat. “The car's ready.”

Dante grabs his coat. “We’re leaving.”

I blink. “Leaving where?”

He looks at me. “You don’t ask questions you don’t need answers to.”

The ride is silent.

I sit in the back seat, hands folded tightly in my lap. Dante sits opposite me, legs spread, presence filling the space like a storm.

Every time the car slows, my heart jumps.

We stop outside a private clinic sleek, quiet, and guarded.

Inside, everything smells like disinfectant and something bitter underneath it. The floors gleam too much. The lights are too white.

I hate it instantly.

The nurse smiles too politely. “Elara?”

I nod.

“This way.”

I glance back at Dante.

He’s watching me.

“Go,” he says.

I follow the nurse down a narrow hallway. Machines hum softly behind the walls. Somewhere, something beeps in a slow, steady rhythm.

I sit. I wait. They take blood. Again. They ask questions.

How old are you?

Any pain?

Any history?

Each answer feels like I’m giving away pieces of myself I’ll never get back.

When it’s over, I step back into the hall.

Alicia is waiting.

She leans against the wall, perfectly dressed, perfectly calm.

“Oh,” she says lightly. “There you are.”

My chest tightens.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” I say.

She smiles. “Of course you didn’t.”

We walk together in silence until she stops.

“You should be grateful,” she says suddenly.

“For what?”

“For being useful.”

Her words settle heavy in my stomach.

“I’m doing what I was told,” I replied.

“Yes,” she agrees. “And you should remember why.”

I meet her gaze. “I haven’t forgotten.”

She steps closer. Too close.

“Good,” she murmurs. “Because girls like you tend to imagine things.”

“I don’t imagine,” I say quietly. “I will survive.”

Her smile sharpens. “Survival can make people greedy.”

Before I can respond, Dante’s voice cuts in.

“That’s enough.”

Alicia turns smoothly. “I was just checking on her.”

“I don’t need you to,” he replies.

Her jaw tightens. “She’s carrying your future.”

“She’s under my control,” he says coldly.

I feel the weight of those words settle over me.

Property.

Asset.

Not human.

We leave.

Back in the car, my phone vibrates.

Unknown number.

I freeze.

“Answer it,” Dante says.

I swallow and do.

“Hello?”

Silence.

Then

“You shouldn’t be there,” a man’s voice says softly.

My breath catches.

“Who is this?” I whisper.

“They’re using you,” he continues. “And when they’re done, you’ll disappear.”

My pulse roars in my ears.

“Stop,” I say. “You have the wrong number.”

He chuckles. “No, Elara. I don’t.”

The line goes dead.

My hand trembles as I lower the phone.

Dante is watching me.

“Who was that?” he asks.

“I…I don’t know,” I lied.

His eyes darken.

“Everyone knows,” he says quietly, “when they’re lying to me.”

The car slows.

Too soon.

I glance out the window, expecting the familiar gates of the mansion but we don’t turn in.

Instead, the car pulls to a stop along a quiet stretch of road, bordered by tall iron fencing and empty land. No sign. No guards. Just stillness.

My chest tightens.

“Why did we stop?” I ask.

Dante doesn’t answer immediately.

He looks out his window, scanning the darkness like he’s counting something only he can see.

“Someone made a call today,” he says finally.

My fingers curl into my coat. “What kind of call?”

“The kind people make when they think they’ve found leverage.”

My pulse quickens. “I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to,” he replies. “You just need to listen.”

He turns to me then, his gaze sharp, assessing not angry, not gentle. Calculating.

“You will not answer unknown numbers again,” he says. “You will not speak to anyone unless I allow it.”

“I didn’t tell them anything,” I say quickly. “I swear.”

“I know,” he says.

That surprises me.

“Then why”

“Because intention doesn’t matter,” he cuts in. “Only access does.”

Silence fills the car again, thick and heavy.

The engine idles.

Somewhere in the distance, metal clangs soft, hollow, like a door closing far away.

I shift uneasily. “Are we in danger?”

Dante watches me for a long moment.

“Not yet,” he says.

Yet.

The word settles deep in my stomach.

He opens the door and steps out, speaking quietly to one of the guards outside. I can’t hear what he says, only the low, controlled, final tone.

When he returns, he doesn’t sit right away.

“Elara,” he says.

“Yes, sir?”

“From today onward, your presence changes things.”

My throat tightens. “How?”

“You draw attention,” he says simply. “And attention invites interest.”

That doesn’t comfort me.

“Does that mean… Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he replies. “It means you exist in a space people want to reach.”

He closes the door and the car starts moving again, turning back toward the mansion at last.

I stare out the window, my reflection faint against the glass.

For the first time since I was brought here, I realize something clearly

I am no longer invisible.

And whatever comes next will not be simple.