Chapter Two

Lianna 

Taken

The doors open and I stop breathing.

The room beyond is enormous and larger than my entire apartment, maybe larger than the flower shop I work at. 

Crystal chandeliers cast warm golden light over polished marble floors, expensive paintings, and towering windows draped with dark velvet curtains.

But beneath the beauty lies something suffocating and the air feels heavy and dangerous. 

And then I see them, men, everywhere, rows of them dressed in black suits standing perfectly still just watching me. 

Every pair of eyes follows me as I am dragged into the center of the room like prey brought before a pack of wolves and my breathing turns shallow.

This isn’t a wedding.

No wedding I have m ever delivered flowers to felt like this. Weddings have laughter and music, crying mothers but this place feels more like a funeral, an execution and my legs buckle.

The men holding me tighten their grip.

“Please,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “Please, you have the wrong person.”

At the far end of the hall stands an older man in an expensive charcoal suit with silver hair and cold features, authority radiates from him.

He doesn’t need to speak for everyone to know he matters, he has an aura about him. He studies me for several long seconds before his expression darkens.

“No,” he murmurs and my pulse jumps.

No?

He walks closer, his steps slow and measured. 

When he stops in front of me, his gaze travels over my face with disturbing precision as though he is searching for something or confirming something.

“Interesting.” he finally says and I hate that word immediately.

“I don’t understand what’s happening.”

He ignores that and Instead he looks at the man holding me.

“Are you certain no one saw?”

“No, sir.”

“Good.”

My stomach twists.

The silver haired man finally addresses me.

“What is your name?”

The question feels absurd and for a few seconds I stare at him.

“Liana.”

His eyes narrow, “Full name.”

“Liana Rossi.”

The second the words leave my mouth, something changes, not him, several men exchange glances, its subtle and quick but I notice it. 

“Rossi,” he repeats.

“Yes.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“No.”

Then he gives a humorless smile.

“Most people do.”

I don’t respond to that because I genuinely don’t care who he is, all I want is to go home to my tiny apartment and my boring ordinary life.

“Please,” I say again, tears burning my eyes. “I’m just here to deliver flowers.”

The man tilts his head and he seems confused or shocked or maybe both. 

“Flowers?”

I nod quickly, “Yes, wedding flowers, that’s all.”

He studies me for another long moment then turns away. 

“Take her upstairs.”

My heart stops, “No.”

The word tears out of me.

“No please wait!”

Panic slams through my chest.

“What are you doing?”

Nobody answers me and I try to fight harder, “Stop!”

One of them lifts me clean off the floor.

They carry me toward a curved staircase. I am halfway up when a woman appears.

She is maybe in her fifties, elegant and beautiful. Her eyes land on me.

Then widen in horror.

“No”

She stumbles forward.

“Oh God.”

Her hand flies to her mouth.

“No, no, no”

She looks downstairs toward the silver haired man.

“Vittorio, what have you done?”

So that’s his name, Vittorio Moretti but he doesn’t look at her.

“Enough.” Her voice trembles.

“She isn’t Bianca.”

My pulse spikes at the mention of that name, Bianca.

She turns to me and what I see in her face chills me, it's not cruelty or anger, just pure pity. 

“Poor child.” is all she says and my blood runs cold

Why would she pity me?

“What is happening?!”

The woman’s eyes shine with tears.

Then she says something that makes my skin crawl.

“He will know.”

Vittorio’s jaw tightens.

“Yes.”

“He will be furious.”

“Yes.”

“He may kill everyone involved.”

The room becomes so quiet I hear my own heartbeat. Then Vittorio finally speaks.

 Each word deliberate.

“He doesn’t have a choice.” The woman shakes her head.

“You don’t know your son as well as you think.”

Son?

My stomach drops.

The realization crashes into me.

The woman sees the realization in my eyes and she whispers the words that shatter me.

“Take her to the bridal suite.”

“No.” This is insane.

“You can’t do this to me.”

My voice cracks.

“Please don't do this to me!”

They reach the second floor and stop before a massive white door and a man opens the door and I am pushed inside. 

A wedding gown stands near the window.

White silk, hand beaded, elegant and beautiful. 

Because now I know who it belongs to.

“No.”

The men release me and several women enter behind us, maid staff, one carries makeup, another jewelry.

“Please,” I whisper.

“I’m sorry.” that's all she says, and that's when I break

“No!”

I shove a tray and Jewelry scatters across the floor.

“I said no!”

I run straight for the door but a strong hand catches me and I scream. 

“LET ME GO!”

“He’s coming.” the maid finally says almost in a whisper, every person in the room goes rigid.

The door handle turns and in that terrifying second, I understand something.

Everyone in this mansion fears one man, Cassian Moretti and he was about to walk into this room.