The penthouse looked different in the mornings so bright and vast that it made Aria feel smaller than ever. She sat on the balcony with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, half-drinking the tea Maria brought her but tasting none of it.
Below, the city buzzed on without her students hurrying to early classes, workers spilling out of subway stations, kids tugging at their parents' hands. Normal people. People who hadn't sold their bodies to a man like Luca Cross.
She wondered if her mother was awake yet. If her father's back still ached from the cold cell floor. If they'd ever forgive her when they found out the truth.
She pulled the blanket tighter, fighting the sick twist in her stomach that had nothing to do with the baby. A single line from Luca's late-night phone call drifted through her mind like poison she tried not to taste: If she doesn't learn to obey, she'll learn to beg.
She shut her eyes, forcing it out. She wouldn't beg him. She couldn't.
Maria found her staring at the skyline. "Mr. Cross wants you to eat more today," she said, setting down a covered tray. "And he asked me to remind you to rest."
Aria's throat went dry. "Remind me?"
Maria shrugged. "He worries." But her eyes slid away, and Aria's chest burned at the lie.
"He doesn't worry," she said softly. "He owns."
In the afternoon, Luca returned early…a rare thing. She heard his voice in the foyer, brisk and smooth as he ordered some faceless assistant to bring in the boxes piled by the elevator.
When she stepped out, she found him at the marble counter, scrolling through a document. His tie was half-loosened, his sleeves rolled up like he might be human if you squinted.
"What's this?" she asked, nodding to the boxes.
He didn't look up. "Your things."
"My… what?"
"From your dorm. It's not safe for you to stay tied to that place. Everything you need is here."
Her stomach lurched. She stepped closer, anger slicing through the numbness. "You went through my things? My dorm room?"
Luca finally looked up, his eyes cool, unbothered. "Maria packed them. You won't need anything else now."
A laugh broke from her lips, brittle, sharp. "So you've cut me off completely. No friends. No school. No life."
His jaw tensed. "I'll arrange for a tutor if you want to keep up with classes."
She slammed her hand on the counter. "I don't want your charity, Luca! I want my life back."
For a moment, he looked at her like he might break too…a flicker of something raw in his eyes before the steel shuttered it.
"You made your choice," he said, voice tight. "And now you live with it "
That night, Aria curled on the edge of the massive bed she refused to share with him. Her old textbooks sat stacked on the nightstand, but she couldn't bring herself to open them. The pages were stained with memories of who she used to be: a girl who dreamed of late-night study sessions, of walking across a graduation stage with her parents in the crowd.
She pressed her palm to her belly, willing herself to feel something warm for the tiny life inside her. But all she felt was the crushing weight of what she'd traded away.
In the hallway, she heard Luca's voice again low, in that other language that dripped through the door like oil. She caught only one word: Aria.
She buried her face in the pillow, refusing to care. She told herself she hated him the way he looked at her, the way he touched her like she was his to command. But deep down, beneath the bruised pride and fear, a traitorous spark curled around her ribs every time he was near.
When he finally came to her room, she pretended to be asleep. She felt his shadow over her, his breath soft at her ear.
"You don't have to fight me, Aria," he murmured, as if she were listening. "I'll give you everything. All you have to do is stay."
She squeezed her eyes tighter shut, but her traitorous body leaned toward the warmth of him. He lingered a moment longer, then pulled away, the soft click of the door sealing her fate all over again.