Part 3
The night did not bring sleep.
Elena sat on the edge of the massive velvet armchair, wrapped tightly in the robe Enzo had given her.
He had left the bedroom hours ago, disappearing into the adjoining study.
Occasionally, she heard the low murmur of his voice on the phone.
The tone was never angry, but it possessed a terrifying certainty.
She knew how men like Enzo operated.
They didn't scream.
They gave orders, and people disappeared.
She looked down at the expensive rug beneath her bare feet.
For years, she had been a ghost in her own home.
Moving silently.
Speaking only when spoken to.
Hiding the marks left by her uncle’s fury whenever she failed to be the perfect, submissive asset.
Now, she was in the lion's den.
But strangely, the lion hadn't bitten.
The door to the study clicked open.
Elena stiffened automatically, her posture turning rigid.
Enzo walked back into the room. He had discarded his suit jacket, and his white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms.
He looked tired, but his eyes were entirely sharp.
He stopped a few feet away from her, observing her defensive posture.
“You look like you’re waiting for an execution,” he remarked.
“Habit,” she replied honestly.
Enzo let out a short, humorless breath.
He walked over to the dresser, picking up a small velvet box.
He tossed it onto the bed.
“Open it,” he said.
Elena hesitated, then stood up. Her movements were slow, cautious.
She reached for the box and opened the clasp.
Inside sat a heavy gold ring, set with a flawless, deep red ruby.
It looked like a drop of blood against the velvet fabric.
“The DeLuca ring,” she whispered.
“My mother’s,” Enzo said, walking over to stand beside her. “Your uncle expected you to wear a cheap imitation. He expected me to treat you like a mistress, hidden away in some apartment outside the city.”
Elena looked up at him, her brow furrowing.
“Why are you giving me this?”
“Because tomorrow we go back to the estate,” Enzo said, looking down at her. “You will wear that ring. You will hold your head up. And you will play the part of the most treasured thing in my life.”
Elena let out a shaky breath.
“They won't believe it. They know what I am to them.”
“They know what you were to them,” Enzo corrected sharply. “Now, you belong to the DeLuca name. And in this city, nobody touches what belongs to me. Not even the people who think they own your past.”
Elena stared at the ring.
It felt heavy.
A different kind of chain, perhaps.
But as she looked at Enzo, she realized something else.
This man wasn't offering her freedom.
He was offering her a trade.
Her compliance for his protection.
“And if I can’t play the part?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly.
Enzo reached out. This time, his fingers actually brushed her jawline.
His touch was surprisingly warm, but his thumb pressed just firmly enough against her chin to force her to maintain eye contact.
“You survived that house for twenty years, Elena,” he said softly. “You are a master actress. Don't lie to me and say you don't know how to play a role.”
May you like
He let go of her jaw, stepping back into the shadows of the room.
“Get some rest. The war starts at dawn.”
