The mansion had never felt smaller. Every shadow seemed alive, every corner whispered secrets, every sound echoed like a warning. Aria sat on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped around herself, trying to steady her racing heart.
Luciano's presence lingered in the air, even when he wasn't in the room. She could still feel it—the weight of his gaze, the suffocating intensity, the danger that danced at the edge of her mind.
A soft click announced his arrival before he even spoke. He leaned against the doorway, watching her. The dim light cast shadows across his sharp features, making him look more predator than man.
"You're awake," he said, voice low, calm—but with an edge that made her stomach twist.
"I… I couldn't sleep," she whispered, her voice shaking slightly.
He stepped closer, each movement deliberate, controlled. She could hear his heartbeat in the silence, could feel the heat radiating from him.
"You need rest," he said softly. "But I see your mind is restless… thinking, analyzing, planning."
"I'm just—" She stopped herself, unsure of what to say. Words felt useless in front of him.
He reached out, brushing a stray strand of wet hair from her face. The touch was gentle, almost intimate—but the intensity behind it was undeniable. Aria's breath caught. She wanted to pull away… but her body refused.
"Don't be afraid," he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers. "I won't hurt you… not unless you give me a reason."
Fear and something else—a dangerous thrill—tangled inside her chest. "I don't… I don't need your protection," she said, trying to sound braver than she felt.
"You do," he said simply, almost a statement of fact. "Whether you want it or not."
His hand lingered near hers, a whisper of contact. The proximity was electrifying. She could feel his breath, smell his cologne—dark, intoxicating, commanding. Every instinct screamed to run, but another, stranger instinct… whispered to stay.
"You are clever," he continued, voice low, dangerous. "Stubborn. Defiant. You resist me, and yet…" He paused, letting the words hang, heavy and magnetic. "You draw me in anyway."
Aria swallowed hard. Her pulse was wild, mind spinning. She hated the feeling, hated how her body reacted to his mere presence. Yet she couldn't deny it. She was caught. In fear. In fascination. In something deeper that scared her.
Luciano stepped back, just enough to give her space—but not enough to relieve the tension. "You will learn," he said quietly. "There is no escape from me. Not physically. Not emotionally. Not in this life… or the next."
Her chest tightened. Those words, that promise, terrified her—but also, disturbingly, stirred something she didn't want to admit.
Before she could respond, a knock came at the door. A servant—or perhaps a warning—delivered a folded envelope. She picked it up, hands trembling. The seal bore the Moretti insignia.
She opened it carefully. Inside was a single card:
"I watch everything you do. Every step, every breath. The moment you falter… I will be there."
Her eyes widened. Her pulse skyrocketed. She realized, with a sinking clarity, that the mansion was more than walls and rooms. It was a cage. And Luciano was the lock, the key, and the shadow that haunted every corner.
Alone, trembling, she sank to the floor. She hated him. She feared him. And yet… she knew something terrifying: resisting him might be impossible.
Because the Devil's touch, even in absence, left marks she could feel deep in her soul.
---