Chapter 5: A Whisper of Hope

Elena Pov

The silence was the worst part.

Not the darkness. Not the cold. Not even the fact that Alessandro had locked me away like some disobedient pet.

It was the silence—thick, suffocating, absolute.

I had no idea how long I had been here. Minutes? Hours? Days?

The walls were stark white, but the absence of windows made them feel like they were closing in on me. The only furniture was a single bed and a chair pushed into the corner. No mirrors. No sharp objects.

A prison, dressed up to look like a guest room.

I pressed my palms against the cold door.

"Let me out," I whispered, but the words barely left my lips.

No answer.

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. I had fought Alessandro before, and I would fight him again. He thought he could control me? Keep me caged?

He was wrong.

I took a deep breath, forcing my hands to stop trembling.

I would find a way out.

A small metallic click echoed from the other side of the door.

I tensed.

Footsteps.

The door creaked open, and a shadow spilled into the dim room.

Alessandro.

I should have expected him, but my stomach is still clenched.

He stepped inside, his every movement slow, deliberate. His tailored suit was pristine, not a wrinkle in sight—like he hadn’t just locked me away, like he hadn’t just murdered someone in front of me hours ago.

He studied me in the dim light, his expression unreadable.

"You haven’t eaten."

I crossed my arms, refusing to acknowledge the hunger gnawing at my stomach.

"Do you think starving me will make me obedient?" I shot back.

Alessandro let out a soft chuckle, amused. "No, cara. But I do think exhaustion will."

I stiffened.

He stepped closer, his scent—a mix of cedarwood and something dangerous—curling around me.

"You will break," he murmured. "But it won’t be because of hunger. It will be because you have no one left to fight for."

Something in me snapped.

I lunged at him, swinging a fist toward his face.

He caught my wrist easily, twisting it just enough to send a jolt of pain up my arm but not enough to break it.

"That fire in your eyes," he murmured, tightening his grip. "I wonder how long it will last."

I clenched my jaw. "Long enough to see you bleed."

His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "We’ll see about that."

Then—he released me.

Just like that.

I staggered back, confusion flickering through me.

"I’ll have food sent up," he said, already turning toward the door. "You’ll eat. You’ll rest. And soon enough, you’ll realize that there is no way out of this."

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms.

"You're wrong," I whispered.

Alessandro paused in the doorway, glancing at me over his shoulder. "Am I?"

Then—click.

The door locked once again.

The food arrived an hour later.

I ignored it.

Then two hours passed.

Then three.

The hunger became unbearable. My body ached, my head spun, and no matter how strong I wanted to be, my stomach betrayed me.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the tray.

Bread. Cheese. A bowl of soup.

I hesitated.

I didn’t trust Alessandro.

But I also knew he wouldn’t poison me—not yet. What would be the point of locking me away if he wanted me dead?

Cautiously, I reached for the bread and took a bite.

It was too quiet as I ate, every sound amplified by the silence. My chewing. The scrape of the spoon against the bowl. The beating of my own heart.

Then—

A noise.

Faint. Barely there.

I froze, straining my ears.

It came again. A soft, rhythmic tapping.

My pulse spiked.

It was coming from inside the walls.

I slowly placed the bread down, creeping toward the corner of the room where the sound was the loudest.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I pressed my ear against the wall, my breath shallow.

Then—

A whisper.

Low. Urgent.

"Are you alone?"

I jerked back, my heart nearly stopping.

I wasn’t imagining it. Someone was there.

"Who are you?" I whispered.

A pause.

Then, the voice returned. "Someone who can get you out of here."

A chill ran down my spine.

Was this a trick? A game Alessandro was playing?

Or was this my only chance?

I hesitated for only a second before pressing my palm flat against the wall.

"Tell me how," I whispered.

The voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

"There’s a weak spot in the south corridor. If you can get past the guards, you’ll find an opening behind the wine cellar."

My breath hitched.

A way out.

My mind spun with possibilities. Who was this person? A servant? A prisoner? Someone who wanted to see Alessandro fall just as badly as I did?

"Why are you helping me?" I asked.

A pause.

Then—

"Because I know what he’s capable of."

The hairs on my arms rose.

But before I could ask anything else—

The voice was gone.

Silence swallowed the room again.

I stepped back, my heart racing.

I had one shot at this.

I would have to be careful. Strategic. Alessandro was always three steps ahead, but this time—this time—I had something he didn’t.

A plan.

And I wasn’t going to waste it.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself.

Tomorrow night, I will make my move.

But I had no idea that Alessandro already knew.

The next morning, the door swung open earlier than expected.

I shot up from the bed, my muscles tensing.

Alessandro walked in, but this time—he wasn’t alone.

Two guards flanked him. And between them—

A man.

His face was bruised, his hands tied, his breathing shallow.

And I recognized him.

My stomach dropped.

Alessandro’s voice was smooth as silk. "It seems you’ve made a friend, amore."

I felt the blood drain from my face.

No.

No, no, no.

He knew.

He knew everything.

And the man who had just promised me freedom—

Was about to pay the price.