The room smelled of leather, cold steel, and danger.
I felt it the moment I stepped inside.
This place wasn't just an office—it was a throne room. Dark mahogany walls. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city like it belonged to him. And behind the massive desk sat the man who ruled it all.
Lucian De Luca.
The Cold Mafia CEO.
My husband… in my past life.
My enemy… in this one.
His eyes lifted slowly, sharp and predatory, locking onto me like I was prey that had wandered straight into his trap. The air shifted. Heavy. Suffocating.
"So," he said calmly, fingers steepled together, voice smooth as ice. "You finally came."
My heart skipped—but I forced my spine straight.
"I didn't come for you," I replied. "I came for answers."
A slow smile curved his lips. Not warm. Not amused.
Possessive.
"You've always been terrible at lying," Lucian said, standing up. His tall frame cast a shadow over the desk as he walked toward me. Every step echoed like a countdown. "Even when you were my wife."
My breath hitched.
So he remembered.
Or worse—he had never forgotten.
"I'm not your wife anymore," I said sharply. "That life ended when I died."
His eyes darkened.
"No," he murmured. "That life ended when you left me bleeding and chose another man."
The memory hit me like a knife.
Blood. Rain. Screams.
I clenched my fists. "You destroyed me first."
Lucian stopped inches away from me. Too close. I could smell his cologne—expensive, familiar, dangerous.
"I rebuilt you," he corrected softly. "And you ran."
Before I could step back, his hand shot out—not touching me, but slamming against the wall beside my head.
I froze.
"You disappeared for three years," he continued, voice low and lethal. "And now you return… different. Smarter. Colder."
His gaze traced my face, lingering like he was memorizing me all over again.
"And I don't believe in coincidences."
I swallowed. "Then believe this—I want nothing from you."
He laughed.
A quiet, terrifying sound.
"You walked into my territory," Lucian said. "You used my company's data. You disrupted my enemy's network."
My eyes widened.
"You knew?" I whispered.
"I knew the moment you touched my system," he replied calmly. "I let you continue."
Fear crawled up my spine.
"Why?" I asked.
His hand finally touched me—two fingers lifting my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.
"Because obsession," he said, voice dropping dangerously low, "doesn't die with betrayal."
My pulse thundered.
"I didn't come here to be owned," I said, forcing the words out.
Lucian leaned closer, his lips brushing my ear.
"Good," he whispered. "Because this time… I plan to cage you willingly."
The door behind me suddenly opened.
A man rushed in, pale and shaking.
"Boss," he stammered. "We've confirmed it. The woman from the fire six years ago—"
Lucian's grip tightened.
"She survived," the man finished. "And she remembers everything."
Lucian's eyes locked back onto mine.
Slow. Calculating. Possessive.
"So," he said softly, dangerously.
"You really did come back from the dead."
My past had caught up with me.
And this time—
Lucian De Luca had no intention of letting me escape.