Chapter Five : Buried Secrets

“You heard me. Kill her. Or don’t. Either way, I’m not paying you a cent.”

The line went dead.

Gideon stared at the phone, stunned. Natalie’s eyes widened. Her heart cracked in her chest.

He wouldn’t save her. She would die. He didn’t care. He didn't have to, she wasn't important anyways.She had never been.

---

Elsewhere

Back in the car, Lorenzo stared at the screen with cold calculation. He turned to his driver. “Do we have eyes on the location?”

“Yes, boss.”

“Tell the men to wait. Let them sweat.”

Lorenzo leaned back, a dark smile playing on his lips.

“Let's see how this thing goes...”

---

The warehouse reeked of gasoline and sweat.

Natalie’s wrists burned from the tight rope digging into her skin. Her lips were cracked, her body aching from being dragged, shoved, and left in the cold for hours. Gideon hadn’t even looked her in the eye when he ordered his men to tie her up. He was too busy barking orders into his phone trying desperately to reach Lorenzo who it seemed had given up on her. She could only save herself then.She looked around for an escape route but found none. Gideon's men were everywhere.

She was still trying to figure out how to get out of the ropes when she heard it—the low growl of a car engine outside, followed by shouts. Her uncle panicked, shouting out orders and running through a side door she didn't knew existed until now. She pushed herself down to avoid getting hit by a stray bullet, her heart racing against her chest. Gunshots cracked through the silence like thunder, and before she could blink, the doors burst open.

Lorenzo De Luca stepped inside.

His black coat whipped behind him like wings of death, his silver pistol raised with calculated ease. Behind him, three of his men moved like shadows, taking down Gideon’s guards without hesitation. Natalie’s breath caught in her throat.

Lorenzo’s eyes met hers—dark, unreadable, furious.

He walked toward her without a word, knelt, and sliced the rope off her wrists in one clean motion. She collapsed into him, half-conscious, but he didn’t hold her. Instead, he grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet.

Ouch!

"Let’s go."

She followed meekly without a word.

The car ride was silent until they hit the freeway. Natalie pressed her head against the window, trying to keep her tears at bay. Her body trembled. Whether it was from fear or exhaustion, she couldn’t tell anymore.Beside her Lorenzo kept quiet, his hands balled into a fist. His voice cut through the quiet like a blade.

“You almost got yourself killed, Natalie.”

She turned to him, startled, unable to find words. He continued.

“If I hadn’t found you in time, you would’ve been sold back to Viktor or worse. You think this world is a game?”

Her jaw clenched. “I didn’t ask to be part of your world.”

“No, but you are now. And there are rules.” His eyes flicked toward her, glinting with warning.

“The next time you run from me, you won’t be kidnapped. You’ll end up dead.I don't think your uncle would be kind enough to spare you again, Cara Mia. No one likes you in this world. You should know that already."

Her throat tightened. For a moment, she thought he might actually be concerned. But no—this was still Lorenzo. Cold, brutal, and in control.

“Do you understand me?” he asked, voice low.

Natalie stared ahead. “I won’t run again.”She couldn't risk her life that foolishly again. She had to find another way to survive. To live. To fight back.

Silence settled between them.Her head spinning with thoughts.

“But,” she added, turning to him with fire in her voice, “I’m not going to sit in that mansion like some porcelain doll while you parade me as your wife.”

He raised an eyebrow.

"I never said I'll parade you as my wife. You are my wife. Why should i parade you? " A low chuckle. Despite herself Natalie flushed. The way he said 'my wife' . Like a claim. A stake.

She breathed in.

“Nevertheless I need to do something. I need a purpose. A job. If I’m going to be stuck in your world, at least give me a role in it.”

Lorenzo smirked slightly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You want a job?”

I want a gateway for revenge. But she didn't say that out loud.

“I want to earn something. I want to be useful. Otherwise, I’ll go insane.” She said waiting for his response.

He didn’t speak for a moment, and she feared he’d laugh at her. But instead, he said, “Fine. You’ll work at my company. You’ll be my assistant secretary.”

She blinked. “Your what?” That was bondage in disguise. He wanted to keep her in his sights.

“Don’t push it, cara mia,” he said, as they pulled into the private driveway of his estate. “You’ll start Monday. Seven a.m. sharp. You’ll report to Marina, my secretary. You’ll answer phones, run schedules, and stay out of my way.”

Her lips pressed into a line, but she nodded. “Deal.”

It was a start anyway.

—

The De Luca Enterprises headquarters stood like a glass monolith in downtown Los Angeles. Clean lines, sharp design, and the silent warning that real power didn’t need to shout.

Natalie adjusted the collar of her blouse and followed Marina—a chic brunette in her early forties who wore her lipstick as sharply as she wielded her clipboard—through the maze of offices. Lorenzo hadn’t even looked at her that morning, just handed her a file and left without a word. He had introduced her as his wife but there was nothing emotional about the tone he'd used. Well she hadn't expected more.

“This will be your desk,” Marina said. “You’ll take overflow work, manage meeting refreshments, and assist with scheduling. Lorenzo doesn’t like delays or excuses. And don’t expect him to thank you—he’s allergic to politeness.”

“Got it,” Natalie muttered, settling into the chair.

By noon, her legs ached from running errands across multiple floors. At least she wasn’t stuck pretending to be a pampered wife in a golden cage. With Leila everywhere in her space. Here, she could breathe. Think. Plan.

And dig.

When Marina stepped out for a meeting, Natalie slipped into the storage room and scanned the labeled cabinets. Most were company documents, legal filings, and international accounts. But one drawer—locked and marked "GRIMALDI "—caught her eye.

Her heart stilled.Why would lorenzo have files with her name in his company, the storage room of all places.

She glanced around, then pulled a hairpin from her bun and worked the lock. Click. Inside were several files. Old property records, account ledgers, and—there it was—a deed.

Her breath hitched.

The deed was in her father’s name. But scrawled at the bottom in faint blue ink was a signature—Gideon Grimaldi. But it looked –forged. Her heart beat fast against her chest. He had transferred ownership of their family estate to himself illegally... just weeks after her parents’ “accident.”

Her hand trembled as she pulled the papers out. There were bank statements too—transfers from what was once her inheritance into offshore accounts tied to Gideon’s name. Her chest tightened. He hadn’t just raised her out of obligation. He’d stolen everything her parents left behind. Everything.

What more did he want? Was killing her the ultimate goal? Why hadn't he done so since she was little?

And Lorenzo had all this information filed away—why?

Why hadn’t he told her?

She was still trying to process the information rightly, still trying to figure out what to do that she didn't hear the door creak open slightly. Then the intoxicating scent filled the room and the husky voice whispered behind her ears.

"Need something, Mia moglie? "

She turned in panic.

Oh no! She had been caught!