MIA'S POV
The silence in the mansion was heavy, almost too heavy. Mia sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the chain marks still bruised around her ankle. Mattheo had taken the iron off her days ago, but she still felt it—the ghost of Luca's grip, the sting of his punishments, the weight of belonging to someone she never wanted.
She couldn't stay here. She wasn't a pet to be locked in a room and fed until her master returned. No. She was more than that—or at least, she wanted to be.
Her fingers tightened around the blanket, then she pushed herself up. Every step toward the door made her heart pound faster. Her legs felt weak, but her mind screamed louder—leave now, or you'll never leave at all.
She opened the door just a crack and peeked out. The hall was empty, the house unusually quiet. No footsteps, no voices. Not even Viet's presence.
She slipped out, bare feet on the cold marble floor. Each step was careful, light, as if the walls themselves were listening. She hurried down the stairs, her breath shallow, her fingers trembling as she reached for the heavy front door.
Her hand gripped the handle and turned it.
The door opened.
Freedom stood right there, just beyond the gates.
Her lips parted, ready to breathe air that wasn't poisoned by Luca Romano's name. She stepped out quickly, her heart beating wild in her chest.
---
LUCA'S POV
Somewhere far from that mansion, Luca leaned back in his chair, cigarette hanging loosely between his lips as he studied the phone screen in front of him. His jaw tightened as the feed flickered, showing a slim figure sneaking down the stairs.
A smirk cut across his face.
He had warned Mattheo. He had told him Mia wasn't a bird you leave in an open cage. She always tried to fly.
His phone buzzed with an alert. He cursed under his breath, reached for his other phone, and dialed Mattheo.
The line connected, and his brother's voice came through.
"Luca? Why the hell are you calling me now?" Mattheo sounded tired, distracted.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Luca growled. "She's escaping."
There was a pause. "What? No, she's in her room—"
"Really?" Luca smirked, eyes fixed on the screen. Mia was already outside, moving fast toward the gate. "Because what I see is a girl running for her life. And trust me, if she makes it out, things are going to get very, very interesting."
Mattheo's voice sharpened. "How the hell do you know—" He stopped. Luca could hear his brother's realization.
"You…" Mattheo's voice dropped. "You put cameras in my house."
"That's not the point." Luca's tone turned colder. "Get her back inside. And put the phone on speaker. I want to talk to her."
He didn't wait for a reply before cutting the call.
---
MIA'S POV
Mia's steps quickened as she moved toward the gate. Just a few more feet, she thought. Just a few more and she'd be free.
But before she reached it, a shadow loomed.
A tall man stepped out from the side, huge like a wall, blocking her way. His voice was low, calm, almost too calm.
"Wrong way, miss. The road is back there." He pointed back toward the mansion.
Her stomach dropped. Bodyguards? Here too?
She forced a small, awkward smile, her voice trembling as she tried to lie. "I was just… looking around."
The man's face didn't change. "This way, please." His hand gestured, firm, not giving her a choice.
She felt her throat tighten as she followed him back, her chest burning with shame and fear. When the mansion came into view, her legs almost gave out.
Mattheo stood by the door, Viet beside him. Both watching. Waiting.
"I… I wasn't—" she stammered, trying to piece together another lie, but Mattheo cut her off.
"He wants to talk to you." His face was unreadable as he held out the phone.
Her blood ran cold. Luca.
Hands shaking, she took the phone.
His voice exploded through the line, sharp and venomous. "Listen to me, piccolo. I don't have time to chase some stupid teenager. You try that shit again, and I promise you—" his voice dropped lower, darker, "—I'll come back and take your tendons out one by one. You won't walk again. Or maybe I'll ruin you in other ways. Make sure every day hurts so much, you'll beg me not to touch you."
Her lips trembled. "I… I—"
"You don't want either?" Luca snapped. "Then don't fuck with me. I won't be nice again. Understood?"
Silence.
"DON'T YOU FUCKING PLAY DUMB WITH ME. ANSWER ME." His roar shook her.
"Yes!" she cried, her voice breaking. "Yes…"
The line went dead.
Her hands shook as she gave the phone back to Mattheo. His eyes looked at her, not angry, but disappointed. That cut deeper.
"Go back to your room," he said flatly.
Her chest sank. Without a word, she turned and walked upstairs, feeling smaller than ever.
---
MIA'S ROOM
She sat on the bed, hugging herself, trying not to cry again. The door knocked.
"Come in," she said weakly.
It opened slowly. Viet stepped inside.
Her heart jumped—fear flickered first. Of all people, she didn't expect him. He had been a monster to her once. Maybe he still was.
"I know I shouldn't be here," Viet said quietly, almost nervous. He pulled something from behind his back—a small chocolate bar—and held it out. "I just… wanted to give you this."
Mia blinked, surprised. Chocolate? She looked at him, then at the candy, unsure what to say.
"You don't like it?" Viet asked, his voice uncertain.
"It's not that…" she muttered, her throat dry. She sighed softly. "Never mind. Thank you."
He smiled faintly, almost like a boy instead of the scarred man she remembered. "Try it."
Her hands hesitated, then she slowly unwrapped it and took a bite. The sweetness melted on her tongue. For a moment, something warm spread through her.
"It's… yummy," she whispered, almost smiling.
Viet's eyes softened. "You're not scared of me anymore?"
Her smile faded. Her voice cracked. "I live in a world full of monsters. I… I don't know what to feel anymore. Fear is all I know."
Her body trembled as the tears returned.
Viet's chest tightened. He crouched down, lowering himself so he didn't tower over her. Carefully, he patted her head—gentle, slow.
"It's okay," he whispered. "If you let me, I'll make you feel something different. I'll be… your friend. If you want me to."
Mia blinked, stunned. "My… friend?" Her voice was small, childlike. She looked at him, searching his face. For once, she didn't feel fear. Not of him.
Only of one man. Only of Luca Romano.
"Will you really be my friend?" she asked again, needing to hear it.
"I will," Viet said firmly. "I'd love to."
For the first time, Mia nodded, believing him just a little.
Viet felt something shift inside him, like he had stepped out of his brother's shadow for a moment.
But what neither of them knew—what neither of them could know—was that Luca had been watching. Listening. Smiling coldly in the dark as the hidden camera captured every second.
Their fragile peace was nothing but a show for the devil.
And the devil always came back for what was his.
---
LUCA'S POV
The room was dim, only the glow from the screen lit Luca's sharp features. Smoke curled lazily from the cigarette between his lips as he leaned forward, eyes locked on the footage.
Mia.
His girl. His prisoner. His obsession.
She sat there with Viet, eating chocolate like a child, smiling weakly. And then she said it—"Will you really be my friend?"
Something inside Luca snapped.
Friend?
With Viet?
Luca's jaw tightened, the veins in his hand standing out as he crushed the cigarette into the ashtray. He leaned back in his chair, smirking darkly.
"Friend… huh?" he whispered to himself, his voice dripping with mockery. "So that's what you want, piccolo? Someone to hold your hand, wipe your tears, make you feel safe?"
He replayed the part where Viet patted her head. Over and over. Watching Viet's hand on her hair was enough to make his blood boil. His eyes turned sharp, like a predator watching prey that dared to run.
No one touched what belonged to him.
He didn't care if Mia hated him, feared him, even despised his existence. She was his. His to break. His to ruin. His to own.
And Viet… Viet had just crossed a line.
Luca chuckled low, a dangerous sound that echoed in the silent room. He tilted his head, staring at the screen like a man in love—only it wasn't love, it was poison.
"Oh, piccolo…" he murmured, brushing his finger against the screen where Mia's face showed. "You think he can protect you? You think he can be your 'friend'? You don't understand… even your fear belongs to me. Even your tears are mine."
He lit another cigarette, inhaled deeply, then exhaled in a cloud of smoke. His smirk faded, replaced with the cold expression of a man who already decided what would happen next.
Viet would pay.
This was his game.
Control.
He leaned closer to the screen, his eyes softening in a twisted way as he watched Mia nibble on the chocolate.
"You're not running anywhere, piccolo," he whispered. "You're mine. And soon… you'll realize that no one—no one—can save you from me. Not Viet. Not Mattheo. Not anyone."
He leaned back, pulled out his phone, and started typing a message to one of his men. A cruel smile curved his lips.
"Keep an eye on Viet," the message read. "I want to know every step he takes. Every breath he gives her."
He didn't send another word. He didn't need to.
Because Luca Romano had already made up his mind—this little "friendship" would end in blood.
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