The rain hadn't stopped since the night she was taken.
Days bled into nights inside the De Luca estate — a mansion too beautiful to be real, and too silent to be safe. Every window was locked, every hallway watched. The walls seemed to listen when she breathed too loudly.
Elena sat by the window of her room, her reflection pale against the glass. Her wrists still carried faint bruises from the guards' grip. Outside, lightning lit the gardens — vast and wild, surrounded by iron gates that stretched higher than any dream of freedom.
She pressed her palm to the window.
Her mother used to say, "Never let them cage your light, my little star."
But here she was — caged. Bought. Forgotten.
A knock shattered the quiet.
Before she could answer, the door opened. Lorenzo stepped in, his presence filling the room like a storm. He wore a black shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms, veins tense, eyes sharper than a blade.
"You didn't eat," he said simply.
Elena turned away. "Maybe I'm not hungry."
He walked closer, his footsteps slow, deliberate. "You'll eat anyway."
"I'm not your pet."
His lips twitched — not quite a smile, not quite anger. "No," he said softly, "you're my responsibility."
Something in his tone made her chest tighten. "Responsibility? You bought me like furniture."
Lorenzo's jaw flexed. "Your father owed a debt he couldn't repay. I took what was offered."
Her voice broke. "You call that mercy?"
"Mercy doesn't exist in my world, Elena," he said coldly. "Only deals."
When he left, she waited — one minute, two, five — then she moved.
Her heart thundered as she pulled open the wardrobe and found a black coat. Her hands trembled as she slipped it on. She'd memorized the guards' shifts. The back kitchen door was unguarded between midnight and one.
Now or never.
She slipped down the hall, the sound of her heartbeat louder than her footsteps. Every shadow felt alive. The marble floor glowed under the moonlight.
By the time she reached the door, her throat was tight with fear — but also with something else. Hope.
She pushed the door open and ran.
Cold rain hit her face, soaking her instantly. Her bare feet slapped against the wet stones as she sprinted through the garden, her lungs burning. The gates weren't far now. She could almost taste freedom.
"Stop!"
The shout came from behind — deep, furious. Lorenzo.
She ran harder, her breath tearing in her chest. She reached the gate, her fingers gripping the cold metal, pulling, shaking—
A strong arm caught her around the waist and yanked her back.
She gasped, kicking, struggling, but he didn't let go.
"Let me go!" she cried.
His voice was harsh against her ear. "You could've been killed."
"I'd rather die than live like this!" she screamed, twisting in his hold until she faced him. Rain ran down his face, his dark hair slick against his forehead, his eyes burning — not with anger, but something deeper.
He exhaled sharply, his chest rising against hers. "You think the world out there is kinder than me?"
"It can't be worse!"
"You don't know what's out there, piccola stella." His voice dropped, rough with something like pain. "You have no idea what men will do to a woman alone in the dark."
"Then why not let me find out?" she shot back, trembling. "At least it would be my choice."
That broke something in him.
Lorenzo's grip loosened, just slightly. His gaze softened, almost against his will. "You don't understand," he murmured. "You were never supposed to be part of this."
Elena blinked, confusion breaking through her anger. "Then why me?"
He hesitated — a dangerous crack in his perfect control. "Because your father made a deal with the devil… and I was the one who answered."
Thunder roared overhead. Neither of them moved.
For a second, the world shrank — just rain, breath, and the sound of their hearts beating too close.
Finally, Lorenzo released her. His voice was quiet now, but heavy. "You try that again, Elena, and I won't be the one who finds you next time. Understood?"
She nodded slowly, her chest heaving.
He took off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders before turning away. "Go inside. You're freezing."
Elena stared at his back, her throat tightening. The man who bought her had just saved her — and yet, his words felt like chains.
As she followed him into the house, she whispered to herself, "One day, I'll run. And I won't stop."
Lorenzo paused at the door as if he heard her, but he didn't look back.
The thunder swallowed the rest of her promise.
But the storm outside wasn't the only one brewing.