The sun filtered through the grey-tinted windows of Moretti Enterprises as Rosalie stood in the elevator, her hands held tightly in front of her. Her reflection in the glass walls of the elevator stared back at her, brown curls coiled around her shoulders, wide, nervous eyes.
But something was different now, she e was a stranger stepping into a palace she never asked to be part of. A palace owned by a king who wore ice for skin.
Her heels clicked against the marble floors of the 23rd floor. The air was cold, her palms were sweaty.
Her new desk was set in front of an enormous glass door engraved with gold letters: ALESSANDRO MORETTI. CEO.
Her fingers trembled as she turned on the monitor. New employee introduction pamphlets were neatly stacked beside the keyboard. Her name printed in a fancy font across them made it feel like this was someone else's life. She swallowed the knot in her throat and sat the leather chair cradling her like it belonged to someone else, someone more important.
She wondered if she would ever get comfortable on them.
Minutes ticked., no one came to greet her, no welcome, just quiet, and the low whisperss from distant offices
Her phone vibrated, interrupting the silence. She hurriedly picked it up.
"Coffee. Black. My office. Now."
Rosalie stood, smoothing down the black pencil skirt they had delivered to her apartment in a Moretti branded bag. The fabric clung to her hips, defined them. Her blouse was silk, tight at the chest, exposing a lot of cleavage and designed, she realized now, more for appeal than professionalism
She made her way to the executive kitchen, Everything in it was polished. The coffee brewed slowly, giving her time to ready her mind.; She prepared the cup, her hands steadier now and her back straighter. She didn't want him to see her shake, to think her weak.
When she knocked on his door, she heard a buzz, Then the door clicked open.
He was standing behind his desk, talking on the phone in Italian. His voice was low, lower than she remembered, harder. It scared her. He didn’t look at her as she entered, just waved her away. She placed the coffee on his desk
"Leave it"
She blinked"I already did."
He ended the call and picked the cup slowly, peeked inside. Then placed it down abruply. Finally, he looked at her.
That same unreadable expression, cold, calculating and beautiful in a terrifying way. Alessandro Moretti had the kind of presence that drew the eye.
He didn’t smile.
"You’re late"
"I wasn’t given a specific time to resume"
His eyes flicked to the watch on his wrist. "And yet you chose nine, Interesting."
Rosalie fought the urge to clench her jaw,he just stared back.
He walked around the desk slowly. His suit today was charcoal grey. The fabric pulled slightly at his broad shoulders, and his watch gleamed under the light.
He stopped in front of her, she should feel his eyes roaming through her body. They made a brief pause at her cleavages before he stared at her eyes.
"You look… presentable"
"It was a job requirement and I wasn't quite given the chance to chose my own outfit." She pulled the skirt downwards, awkwardly.
A slow smirk crept across his face but it didn’t touch his eyes.
"Everything is a requirement here, especially how well you wear obedience"
She wanted to respond, to ssay something cruel but her throat dried, the room was too cold or maybe too quiet. His presence sucked the air from it.
"Return to your desk. Don't expect anyone to put you through. You learn by watching"
Rosalie turned, jaw tight, and walked out. She didn’t slam the door, she wished she had.
The rest of the day passed, very slowly. Emails came in, Schedules, names, appointments she had no context for. She fumbled at first then learned quickly. She wanted, needed to be efficient. She took notes, memorized. She noticed how his top clients were addressed differently in internal documents by initials not names. Secrets, everywhere.
She only saw him again briefly, during a meeting with investors. He didn’t introduce her, she realized her own unimportance,She stood silently at the back, taking notes.
At lunch, she tried to eat in the cafeteria. The other secretaries avoided her, some smiled politely but none spoke to her.
At 4:15, she received another message.
"Conference Room B, five minutes"
She arrived early, the room was empty except for Alessandro, standing by the window.
"You lasted the day" he said without turning. "Most don’t"
Rosalie held her chin high "You expected me to fail?"
"Hmm"
She stepped forward "I don't break easily, Mr moretti"
That did it, heturned slowly and walked over.
The table was between them, but it felt like nothing. Her heart beating rapidly.
"You accepted the terms, you sold your dignity. Don’t pretend this is nobility"
The words hit but she refused to show it.
He came closer.
"But you’re learning quickly, you might even survive"
She didn’t flinch when he moved toward her, she didn’t back away.
He stopped behind her.
Then without a sound, without permission he brushed his hand slowly over her waist, but it wasn’t just a touch.
His fingers grazed the curve of her hip,a claiming gesture. Softn but deliberate. It wasn’t urgent or careless, it was calculated and slow.
It lit a fire beneeath her skin, Her breath quickening. Her body still, reacting without permission. She hated that she felt it, that her stomach tightened, that her lips parted just slightly. She hated that she… liked it.
Her eyes widened, chest rising, heart pounding.
He leaned in, drawing her closer to him. She could feel his chest on her back. His breath grazing her ear.
"Lesson one: I don’t ask, you're mine."
Then he walked past her without looking back,.like nothing happened.
She stood rooted to the floor, shaking inside her perfectly ironed blouse
The door clicked shut behind him.
And Rosalie no longer sure who she was or what she’d just let herself feel, closed her eyes and whispered
"God help me."
(Narrator’s POV)The air outside the club was thicker than inside, smoke curled from cigarettes, clinging to the night like ghosts,bbottles lay broken against the gutter and somewhere in the distance a dog barked, sharp and restles as though it too sensed something around the streetsThe men who dragged Rosalie out of the room hardly spoke. Their hands were strong, their steps quick. She stumbled between them, half awakeOn the opposite side of the street, halfnhidden by shadows, a man stood watching, he wasn’t one of the usual drunk customers hanging around for another roun, hhe wore a coat too fine for this part of the city, his shoes polished, his back stiff, he wasn’t there for pleasure, he was there for dutyAlessandro’s eyes in the dark.The kidnappers noticed him before Rosalie did, she barely noticed anything the pill still worked inside her, pulling her into a heavy fog. But the men noticed, criminal instincts were sharp, every glance, every shift in the night , every moveme
Alessandro’s POV The first photograph stared back at me with the kind of silence that mocked. Rosalie’s face, caught turning, her expression half hidden beneath her dark hair, was frozen inside a glossy paperMy thumb dragged slowly along the image, tracing a face I hadn’t touched in weeks... a face I had ruined and remade in ways the world was only beginning to understandThe file was thick, heavier than it should have been, each page a record of her days since she walked out of my company, out of my controlMy men had done their work well, the photographs were grainy, taken from shadows and distanc but they carried enough clarity to stick to my mind… Rosalie crossing a street, rosalie leaving a corner store, rosalie with that girl, BeatriceAlways BeatriceI flipped again, the paper whispering as I turned it, the only sound in the buildingAnother frame: the two of them walking side by side, Rosalie’s shoulders slouched like she was apologizing for existing, while Beatrice stoo
Rosalie sat at the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the closet door, her fingers tugging at the hem of the oversized T shirt she wore. Beatrice's voicefrom a few minutes ago still echoed in her head: "Let's go out tonig, I'll find you something slutty to wear."Slutty.She hadn’t known how to respond then and even now, she wasn’t sure if Beatrice had been joking or serious. The way she'd said it, eyes wide, voice high and giddy, it almost felt manic. But Rosalie hadn’t questioned it, not after Beatrice had suddenly gone quiet, then apologized again for asking about whether she'd ever had sex with Alessandro."I'm sorry I was being a bitch" she'd said, curling her legs beneath her on the couch, her voice unusually soft. "I just wanted to understand"Rosalie had nodded, tight lipped, not wanting to go back into that swamp of memoryIt had been a long day, a loud oneDozens of messages, missed calls, mentions, and then, the video Alessandro's voice, sharp and venomous, filled t
The morning light streamed through the large floor to-L ceiling windows of my office, casting A goldEn glow over the glass table and leather chairs I stood by the window, hands in the pockets of my slacks, trying to center myself. The city below buzzed with life, people moving about like they had no idea that my world was moments away from crumblingWork had always been my anchor. Numbers, plans, contracts, they never lied to me, they didn’t talk back, they didn’t feel they just existed. Constant and obedient.Until now.I turned around and made my way to my desk, intending to get through the files lined up for the day. There were meetings to prepare for, calls to make, deals to finalize. I reached for my phone, planning to call security about the parking arrangements for the guests scheduled to arrive this afternoonThere was a knock, it was sudden, sharp. Followed by the door flying open“Sir” Amara’s voice cracked as she burst into the room without waiting for permission. Her he
Rosalie stretched under the weight of the morning, her arms sliding across thesheets of her bed, the sunlight streamed in, pale and drowsy, lighting the edges of the roomHer eyes blinked open slowly, staring up at the faint cracks in the ceilingAnother day.Another morning.For the first time in weeks, there was no dread dragging itself across her chest when she woke upJust a quiet sense of exhaustion and a fragile sense of relief, relief from the moretti enterpriseDario had made sure that her mother’s hospital bills for the next two months were covered.iThat gave her some breathing room, time to find another job ttime to figure out her next steps She wasn’t under Alessandro Moretti’s thumb anymore and while that was both a relief and a quiet ache she didn’t want to name, she was determined to move on.She sat up slowly, her hair tumbling over her shoulder. Her apartment was still, quietFor about three seconds.Then came the slam of a cupboard from the kitchen and the sou
Leonardo sat quietly in the back seat of his car, fingers drumming against the leather armrestThe windows were tinted dark, hiding him from the world outside, rain tapped gently against the glass, soft and steady, like a lullaby trying to calm his thoughts. But nothing could settle the storm inside him.He stared through the windshield at the grey building ahea.dThe sign read "Villa del Sole Recovery Centre" It didn’t look like much, just a quiet place tucked away from the city, surrounded by trees and silenceBut he knew what was inside, he had waited weeks for this.Lucia was here.He opened the leather notebook on the seat beside him. Inside were photos, neatly printed and slipped into clear plastic sheetsHe flipped through them slowly, Aessandro with Lucia in a dimly lit club, Lucia stepping out of a sleek black car, lucia entering a penthouse building, another photo of her leaving the same building alone, her shoulders slumpedAnd then at the very back, a still frame from a