Into the Wolf’s Den

The dim kitchen light flickered once before going dark again, leaving the hallway cloaked in shadows. A faint rustle caught Lidia’s breath in her throat. She had been halfway to the back gate, her small bag clutched to her chest, heart pounding so hard she was sure it could be heard.

Then—click.

The overhead light snapped on. The sudden brightness stabbed her eyes, and when her vision cleared, Amelia stood framed in the kitchen doorway. Her face was twisted in fury, jaw tight, eyes like sharpened glass.

“Where,” she hissed, “do you think you’re going?”

Lidia froze, blood draining from her face. She’d been so careful, tiptoeing in silence, timing her steps to the creaks of the old floorboards. But Rosario—her aunt, her warden, her tormentor—was here, and there was no escaping the trap in her voice.

Earlier that night, Rosario had woken feeling thirsty. She’d called for Lidia three times to fetch her water, but the house had remained silent. Irritated, she’d gone to the kitchen herself. On her way back to bed, she had spotted a shadow slipping toward the door, a bag in hand. The sight had been enough to snap whatever fragile patience she had left.

“You dare try to run?” Rosario’s voice cracked like a whip. In two long strides she reached Lidia, her palm striking across the girl’s pale cheek with a sharp, echoing crack.

The sting burned immediately, but it was the humiliation that made Lidia’s eyes fill with tears. Her body trembled—not just from pain, but from the certainty of what was coming.

“You ungrateful brat!” Rosario snarled, grabbing a fistful of Lidia’s hair and yanking her forward. “After everything I’ve done for you? This is how you repay me?” Her words were venom, spat with pure contempt. “I should have thrown you out years ago!”

Before Lidia could respond, another blow landed. She stumbled, her knees nearly buckling.

The noise of the struggle drew Luca from upstairs. He came thundering down the steps, his face pulled into a scowl.

“What’s going on?” he demanded. But his tone wasn’t one of concern—it was irritation, as though this scene had interrupted his plans for the night.

Rosario didn’t hesitate. “After we’ve paid for her schooling—after we’ve fed her and clothed her—she was sneaking out like a thief in the night!”

Luca’s expression shifted, but it wasn’t shock—it was something darker. Without a word, he struck Lidia hard across the face. Her head snapped to the side, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth.

“How dare you,” he said coldly, “try to ruin my plans.” His voice dropped to a low, dangerous murmur as he fisted a hand in her hair, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“Please, Uncle,” Lidia stammered, tears streaking her cheeks. “I wasn’t— I just… I was going to my friend’s house for the night—”

Her plea fell on deaf ears.

Rosario’s voice was sharp, decisive. “Take her to the Ice King tomorrow. Let him do whatever he pleases with her. I don’t care. I want her gone.”

Luca’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Of course, my love. She won’t have the chance to run again.” He glanced at Lidia with a gleam in his eye that made her stomach twist. “This will seal the deal.”

He dragged her up the stairs, his grip unrelenting. In her bedroom, he shoved her inside, the door slamming against the wall before swinging shut again.

“You’ve just given me the perfect opportunity,” he said with a smirk. “Tomorrow, I’ll be one step closer to joining the richest men in this city.”

“You’re a devil,” Lidia spat, anger overpowering her fear.

The smirk vanished. His hand came down across her face with brutal force, sending her stumbling backward. Warm blood trickled from her lip.

Leaning close enough for her to feel his breath, Luca’s voice turned to ice. “I’ll make sure your life with the Mafia King is hell.”

He stepped out, locking the door behind him.

Downstairs, Rosario was still simmering with anger, but Luca soothed her with promises—designer clothes, luxury vacations, a place among the elite. By the time they retired to bed, she was smiling again, visions of wealth replacing her earlier fury.

The next morning, the sun rose bright and merciless, flooding the house with light that felt far too cheerful for the day ahead.

Luca was already dressed in his new navy-blue suit, his hair slicked back, every detail calculated. Today wasn’t just business—it was his dream coming true. The Morgan Chase Group would hand him a check worth fifty million dollars. All it had cost him was his niece’s freedom.

“Lidia!” he shouted from the bottom of the stairs, impatience edging his tone.

Slow footsteps descended. Lidia appeared, moving as if each step weighed her down. Her face was swollen from the beating, her skin pale against the yellow dress she wore—a dress chosen not for beauty, but because it covered every bruise.

Luca frowned. “How dare you dress like that to meet the boss of all bosses? You’ll embarrass me!”

Rosario emerged with a makeup kit, her expression brisk. “Cover it up,” she ordered. “He can’t see what we’ve done to you.”

Lidia obeyed without a word, applying just enough foundation to mask the worst of it, a touch of gloss to hide the dryness of her lips.

“Let’s go,” Luca snapped.

The car ride was silent, tension pressing in from all sides. Within half an hour, they pulled into the sleek driveway of one of the city’s most imposing corporate buildings. The sheer size of it made Lidia’s breath catch; she’d never set foot in a place like this.

At the reception, Luca turned to her with a sharp instruction. “Stay here. Don’t move. Don’t talk to anyone unless I tell you.”

She nodded, clutching her bag tightly as he disappeared into the office of Romano, the Ice King’s right-hand man.

Left alone, Lidia let her gaze wander. Marble floors gleamed under the soft light, polished to perfection. The air smelled faintly of expensive cologne and leather, a scent so foreign it made her feel even more out of place.

For a moment, she forgot the reason she was here. She drifted toward a large display of awards and photographs, each frame glinting under the light.

She didn’t hear the footsteps behind her until it was too late. She stepped back, colliding with something solid—no, someone. The impact sent her off balance, and before she could fall, strong arms caught her.

The scent hit her first—clean, sharp, laced with danger. Slowly, she looked up.

Dark eyes stared down at her, unreadable yet arresting. The man’s suit was black as night, his presence commanding without effort. His expression was cool, but there was something in the way he studied her—like he’d just stumbled upon something unexpected.

Her heart thundered in her chest. She didn’t need an introduction to know who he was.

The Ice King.