Five

The car finally pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, an open space lined with luxury cars that gleamed under the soft evening light. My heart thudded in my chest as I glanced at the restaurant. It was an outdoor Michelin-starred place, every inch of it oozing exclusivity. The restaurant itself was a combination of sleek modern architecture and elegant, soft lighting that made the space seem more intimate, despite its grandeur. Tables were arranged with precision, each one set with sparkling glassware and expensive table settings. Even from the parking lot, I could see how meticulous it all was—every detail perfected, like the guests who frequented it.

The engine came to a stop, and the driver promptly got out, circling to my side. He opened the door with a silent bow, and I took a deep breath before stepping out. The moment my feet touched the ground, I had to hold myself not to panic and hail a cab out of here.

I reached into my bag and pulled out the black invitation card—the only way to get into a place like this. I glanced at the table number printed in elegant script before moving aside so the driver could close the door.

"I’ll be waiting here in case you finish early," he said, bowing slightly.

I nodded. "Thank you," I murmured, feeling my pulse quicken again. With another deep breath, I turned and made my way to the restaurant’s entrance. The security guard stationed there eyed me for a moment before I handed him the card. His gaze flickered across the details, and then he asked, "Who are you here to meet?"

"Mr. Luca Caruso," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady despite the storm of nerves beneath it.

His expression shifted instantly. With a quick nod, he returned the card and bowed slightly as he stepped aside. "Go ahead, Miss."

I nodded back, a small respectful gesture I could give. I wasn't surprised. Luca Caruso’s name carried more than just influence. It carried fear. This was the man Alecia had run from, the man whose very name could silence rooms and make people tremble. Everyone knew who he is. He was the same reason why Alecia escaped with *her* lover.

I sighed and stepped inside, handing the card to one of the waitresses. She nearly dropped the tray she was holding before scurrying off to fetch another attendant. Within seconds, she returned, breathless but composed. "Please, follow me."

She led me past the restaurant’s main area and out to the back. As soon as we stepped outside again, I froze in awe. A low garden of flowers stretched before me, meticulously arranged, and illuminated by hidden lights that made the petals glow softly in the morning air. There was even a small pool, the water still and reflecting the sun. It felt like stepping into another world, one that was quiet, private, and unnervingly beautiful.

The waitress led me to the short set of stairs at the entrance. Two guards standing rigid on either side. Their expressions were unreadable, but their presence alone made my stomach tighten with unease. The waitress paused briefly. "He's in, I'll have to leave now," she said, not looking me in the eye before rushing away without waiting for a response.

I took a deep breath, gathering myself, and walked up to one of the guards. His eyes met mine, hard and cold, like he could crush me with a glance. I forced my voice to remain calm.

"I’m here to see Mr. Caruso," I said.

He looked me over, his eyes narrowing as if assessing every inch of me. "Who are you?" he asked in a tone that was more command than question.

"Valentina De Luca," I answered. "I’m a De Luca. He knows of my coming"

At that, he nodded, though his face remained impassive. "Wait here," he said before turning and climbing the small stairs, disappearing into the open space. I could just make out the roofed area ahead, its wide entrance open to the garden, where the second guard and I stood in silence.

I took another deep breath, my hands trembling slightly as I clutched my bag. I muttered to myself under my breath.

It’s just one year. One year and I’ll be out of this.

But even as I said it, I wondered how long a year would feel under the weight of a contract like this one.

As I stood there, I couldn't help but let my thoughts wander. I tried to imagine what life would be like once I was living with Luca Caruso, the man I'd heard so many whispers about but had never seen. The contract hadn’t mentioned his age, but I’d made my own assumptions. From the rumors, the terrifying stories, and the way people talked about him, I had to believe he was old. 

He had to be. 

Men like him—men who arranged marriages through contracts, with power and money on the line—were never young. In movies, in rumors, it was always some older man with too much influence and not enough warmth, someone looking for a wife for reasons I couldn’t even begin to guess. Maybe heirs, maybe control. Either way, I had been preparing myself for the worst: a life beside a man far older than me, one who saw me as just another piece in his business empire.

I stared at the polished stone floor beneath my feet, trying to suppress the growing dread that twisted in my stomach. Could I really live like that? Could I endure a year tied to someone who saw me as nothing more than a means to an end?

Before I could sink any deeper into the thought, the guard returned. His expression was the same as before—cold and unfeeling—and his voice didn't calm my anxiety.

“You can go in now,” he said.

I swallowed hard, straightened my dress, and stepped forward, my heart pounding. But the moment I stepped inside, and walked to the figure near the table for two. The man standing there on call, was not at all who I was expecting. 

He was definitely not the man I’d prepared myself for.