WHO IS THIS MAN!?

“Bring me the case, Doris” Lucian’s voice shattered the peaceful morning like a blade, his eyes slightly reddened due to lack of sleep, and his hand rubbed the side of his head repeatedly like he so desperately wanted to soothe something there.

His back faced her, a glass of whiskey swirled in one hand as he watched the amber liquid move from side to side in endless escape. A soft exhale escaped his lips,

“Yes, Master,” Doris said quietly, her eyes lingered on him for a split second.

Her gaze held so much concern, before they dropped to the tea she had made him earlier for his headache.

It remained untouched, backing away softly her eyes flickered briefly to the man bound and bloodied on the marble floor, his groans muffled by the gag in his mouth.

Tearing her gaze away from him, she turned and left.

Nothing more could faze her, it was part of his daily routine, henceforth it became part of hers. She walked back in with a small leather briefcase, its lock was a silver snaked coiled in the shape of an “R”.

“Master.” With her head bowed, she extended the case to him.

Lucian turned, his gaze remained expressionless as he unlatched the case. Inside, nestled in velvet, was his favorite custom made pistol.

His gaze lingered on the weapon, with such admiration and satisfaction, his best part of the day.

“Have Aria dressed for breakfast,” He said, still admiring the gun, “Put her in the black balcony dress, no underwear.”

Doris nodded sharply, “Yes, Master.”

Swiftly, she left. Her small pumps clicked faintly against the tiled hallway. Her face never changed from the smile she wore.

Her hands clamped down on the door handle, opening it slightly. She peeped in, Aria laid curled beneath the silk sheets of her room. The satin clung to her skin like the last shred of hope she had for leaving here.

Her eyes stared emotionlessly at the window, dark circles rested under them. Sleeping peacefully wasn’t something she could afford anymore.

“Ari, dear” Doris entered quietly, “Master Lucian has requested your presence.” She said softly.

Aria’s body went rigid at the mention of his name, but she refused to even turn to her.

“No,” she whispered, her fingers clutched the fabric of the sheets tighter. She buried her face into the pillow, how could she look at him?

Knowing she’d remain at his mercy as long as he wished, keeping her sister wherever he held her.

A soft exhale escaped Doris, she stepped closer and began pulling the sheet away from her body. Aria’s breath shook, but she didn’t stop her. instead her body remained motionless.

“you’re wearing this, it’s what he wants.” She turned to the wardrobe and pulled out a delicate black night wear , it seemed expensive but the lace would leave little to the imagination.

But Aria remained silent, she hesitated for a moment before asking. “Is your hand better?” Her gaze fell to the bandage she wrapped around Aria’s palm last night.

Despite her efforts to get her talking, Aria’s gaze held the floor. Like maybe it would open up, for her sake. A soft chuckle escaped Doris’s throat, her eyes lingered on Aria.

“Should I leave?”

There was silence again, but before Doris could even turn away, Aria’s voice stopped her.

“No…” she wrapped her hand firmly around Doris’s arm, pulling her back gently. Her eyes barely stayed in their sockets, they shook softly. And with a low voice, she asked.

“Who is he?”

Doris’s throat clenched up, like she didn’t want to answer. She didn’t want to pull her deeper into this nightmare she found herself, but she deserved to know her captor.

Aria’s grip tightened slightly, desperation clawed its way up her voice

“Please,” she whispered, “Tell me. You’re the only one here that seems normal.”

Doris’s gaze softened, she glanced at the door to be sure no one was listening. The silence between them wafted in the air for a few seconds. Then she closed her eyes briefly in defeat,

“Have you heard the name De Rossi?”

Aria blinked, her hands faltered, losing its grip on Doris.

“He’s the heir to the most feared bloodline in Italy. His father was a legend, some said he was only a man, other’s called him insane. But his son, Lucian, they called II Diavolo.”

“The devil.”

Aria’s throat dried up, air scarce in her lungs. Her heart pounded in her chest, while her fingers trembled slightly but she gripped the sheets to steady herself.

“How do I please him? What does he want with me?” her voice trembled.

“Dear, you must learn to obey. That’s the only language he understands.”

In a moment, cold breeze blew in intensifying the fear. Shivers ran down her spine and her feet grew cold, he wasn’t to be played with.

“Now,” Doris held her arm, pulling her out of bed. “Don’t keep him waiting.”

She gave a weak nod. Aria remained still as she allowed Doris bathe her and prepare her for the god she now served.

Her barefoot padded softly as she approached the dining hall, the atmosphere became suffocating.

As she got closer, goose bumps covered her skin, like she was getting closer to danger.

On getting to the corridor, at the head table Lucian sat casually. His muscular torso on full display and the buttons on his shirt were missing, leaving his tattoos exposed to anyone brave to look.

His eyes gleamed with dark intent; they focused on a man bound to a chair at the end of the room. The man’s face was swollen, his hands bound tightly with rope. His voice trembled, choking with desperation.

“Please, my daughter, she’s alone in the hospital..”

Lucian remained unmoved, his gaze remained on him.

His hands reached for his gun, placing it casually on the table. Aria’s hands started to shake, her feet stuck to the ground as she watched in horror.

Her hands searched for something to steady her, but they hit the door slightly, catching his attention.

Slowly, Lucian’s gaze turned to her, his eyes lit up softly,

“Come, little dove.”