CHAPTER 2

NO ESCAPE

The barrel was the coldest thing I've ever felt on my skin.

Is this how I die!?

His green eyes didn't blink, and the gun didn't waver either. My knees went liquid, and my lungs seized, but the only sound in the room was my own heartbeat trying to punch through its ribs.

"Where are the drives?"

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Just a strangled breath that tasted like fear.

"I—I don't k—now wh—at you're talking about."

The silence stretched so long I felt it pressing against my skull. He didn't react or move; he just stared at me with those frozen eyes. And I understood for the first time what it meant to be truly hunted.

"I don't like to repeat myself."

"I'm not—" My voice cracked. "I swear, I don't know. Whatever you think I have, I don't have it."

Something flickered in his expression, and from the fear of having a gun to my head, I couldn't figure it out.

He lowered the gun slowly, tracing the muzzle down my cheek as the coldness bit into my skin before tilting my chin up with the tip.

"Do you take me for a fool?" He asked in a soft voice. "Do not make me scatter your ugly brain on my pretty walls."

Sweat gathered on my forehead as my heart nearly jumped out of my ribcage. He leaned closer, close enough for me to see the faint ring of gold around his pupils.

"Where are the drives?"

I was shaking so hard my teeth clattered. "I don't know. I don't know what you're talking about."

“You don't know what I'm talking about, but you're shaking?”

“I have a gun pointed to my head, Einstein.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Oh God.

His eyes grew darker as he held my gaze. I thought I was gone. But he holstered the gun in one motion and tucked it away.

"Everyone breaks eventually, wife. You will too."

He turned and walked to the door without looking back. "Get comfortable. Tomorrow, we will try again. And let me warn you… I am not a patient man."

When the door closed behind him, my legs gave out. I collapsed onto the cold marble floor as my whole body convulsed with the effort of holding myself together.

That night, sleep eluded me. Four words kept resounding in my head.

I need to leave.

By morning I was forced into another dress by that maid and given just bread and water on a tray.

As the hours crawled, I paced. I stared at the windows before testing the door handle twenty times.

Of course it was locked.

By evening, the lock turned against it, and this time a younger maid stepped in with a tray. She set down a tray and turned to leave without meeting my eyes.

"Wait—" My voice came out cracked, quickly taking advantage of my position. "Please, the dress zipper is stuck. I can't breathe; just help me. Please."

She hesitated as she glanced at the door. Then pity flickered in her gaze as she moved closer to me. The moment her back was turned, I slammed the bathroom door between us and locked it.

"Hey!"

I was already out. Bare feet padding desperately on the cold marble floor. I wrenched open the main door and stopped dead. Two guards stood right outside.

I froze her for half a heartbeat as the guard's dead stare bore holes into my skull. Without waiting for another reaction, I stumbled back and turned around immediately.

One of them spoke into a radio on his wrist. "She's out."

I ran anyway, bolting down the hallway in the opposite direction. I made a left turn… a dead end. I skidded on the marble, bare feet sliding, as I threw myself right. My legs skidded down the staircase, my lungs on fire.

I rounded a corner and walked straight into a chest.

I fell hard on my ass, pain shooting through my spine. I looked up to see the person I was trying to escape.

And on his face was a very bored expression.

Leaning a bit, he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me up roughly. I thrashed against his grip, but his hands didn't budge. They were iron wrapped in skin, and the more I struggled, the tighter they got.

"Let me go!"

"No."

He pulled me closer, tilting his head as he studied my face.

"I'm going to ask you a question," he said in a very calm voice, "and I want you to think very carefully before you answer."

I stopped struggling, breathing heavily.

"Where were you going?"

My lips remained sealed, making his jaw tighten. But his grip also tightened along with it, making me wince.

"Don't make me repeat myself."

"I—" My voice came out as a plea. "I just wanted air. I can't breathe in that room."

"You can't breathe." He repeated the words like they sounded stupid, raising one of his brows. "Let me make something clear to you, wife. You were never brought here to be comfortable. You are collateral, and collateral can get damaged."

His hand moved to my jaw, digging his fingers into it.

"Run again," he murmured, "and I'll stop being patient."

"Patient?" The word burst out before I could stop it. "You pointed a gun at my head and threatened my life."

"And you're still alive." His thumb pressed lightly against my chin. "That was me being patient."

I stared up at him with stubbornness and fear in my eyes as he turned around.

"Take her back," he said to the guards. "Double the watch outside her door and bring me the maid."

My blood went cold. "No—please—she didn't do anything wrong. I tricked her. It was me. Please don't hurt her."

Lucien paused, turning back to me. I could see mockery dancing behind his eyes.

"You beg for a stranger," he said. "But not for yourself? How foolish."

He stared at me, his eyes searching mine for a long moment. Then he turned around.

"Lock her in without food or water till I say otherwise. Maybe hunger will loosen her tongue."

What!?

As the guards dragged me back down the hallway, I twisted violently in their grip, panic clawing up my throat while Lucien watched without expression.

When I got back to my room, the last tray of food was gone.

Before my chest could cave, the shrill sound of a female’s scream pierced the doors and into my ears.

Pleading for mercy.

CHAPTER 3

THE PRICE OF DEFIANCE

The silence after her scream was worse than the scream itself.

I pressed my forehead against the cold marble floor as I curled myself into it. Until eventually, my mind became exhausted and my body shut off.

The lock turned what felt like years later.

The housekeeper stood in the doorway, her black dress swallowing the light. She looked at me with a blank look like I was nothing more than a chore.

"Mr. Moretti will see you now."

Two guards appeared behind her, seized my arms, and hauled me upright. My legs buckled immediately as pins and needles shot through my feet, knees, and thighs.

They dragged me down the hallway, my heels scraping against the marble.

Focus and breath, Chiara. Survive this.

Stopping in front of a food made with dark wood panels and painted with faded frescoes, they knocked thrice before dragging me in.

Lucien sat behind his massive desk, the orange light from the fire in the grate casting shadows across his face. He didn't look up when they set me on the floor directly opposite his desk. He just kept signing whatever he was signing.

I barely cared. All I could care about was my throat.

My throat was so dry. I couldn't swallow, and my tongue felt too big for my mouth. I'd never been this thirsty in my life. The hunger was bad, but the thirst was madness. It hollowed out my thoughts and filled them with images of water.

Then Lucien reached to his right and picked up a glass of water. The condensation beaded on the crystal as he set it down on the table between us.

"Thirsty?"

His voice was gentle and almost kind. I couldn't say a word; my eyes were locked on the water like it was the face of God.

He pushed the glass an inch closer, taunting me with it. Unable to hold back, I used my last bit of strength to push myself up, scrambling for the cup. But the guards held me back.

"Tell me where the drives are, and you can drink. Even eat and sleep in a real bed with real sheets."

I stared at the glass; my hands were trembling in my lap.

One sip… I need just one sip.

I could almost feel the cold liquid sliding down my throat. But I didn't know where the drives were. I don't even know what they are.

So I did the only thing I could think of.

I lied.

"My father," I rasped, the sound of my own voice scaring me. "He keeps things in a safe in his study. Behind the painting of my mother. "I forced myself to keep going. "I don't know the combination, but whatever you're looking for... it's probably there."

Silence deafened the room.

"Look at me."

I couldn't raise my head for fear of being found out.

"Raise your head."

Sensing the impatience, I raised my head. His green eyes peered into my face.

"Interesting," he murmured before picking up the glass of water, lifting it to his own lips, and drinking slowly, never breaking eye contact.

No!

I watched the water disappear down his throat, following the movement of his throat.

He set the glass down. "Take her back."

"No." I lurched forward without meaning to, but I was held back. "I told you something, please."

"You told me what you thought I wanted to hear." He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "I don't like being played, Wife. One more day without food and maybe then you'll understand the cost of wasting my time."

The guards grabbed my arms, dragging me away just the same way I was dragged in.

Two days without food. My body was breaking down, and my mind wasn't far behind.

After the third night of starvation, I knew I just couldn't sit still and wait for my death.

I dragged my body to the sealed window, inspecting it. Thankfully, the seal was old, so when I pressed my weight against the frame and pounded, it groaned.

Move! Move! Damn you.

It gave way.

Cold night air hit my face, giving me hope. The drop was maybe ten feet, but I climbed through without thinking. My bare feet hit frozen earth, and my knees nearly buckled, but I forced them to run.

My legs moved despite my lungs begging to give out. When the tree lines appeared in my sight, I stretched out my hand…

And arms wrapped around my waist from behind.

"No!"

I screamed, throwing my weight and clawing at the arms holding me. More guards melted out of the shadows I'd thought were empty.

They dragged me back toward the terrace, and Lucien Moretti was standing at the top of the stone steps, arms crossed over his chest.

And on his face this time wasn't boredom, but It was interesting.

"Bring her here.”

His head tilted slightly as they hauled me up the steps and shoved me forward onto the cold stone.

I caught myself on my hands and knees, trembling from starvation. I looked up at him through the tangled mess of my hair.

He crouched down until his face was level with mine.

"Most women break by now," he murmured. "They cry, plead, and offer me everything they have." His head tilted the other way. "But you... you keep running."

He reached out, making me flinch. His fingers brushed the hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear with a gentleness that made my skin crawl.

"Either you're very brave," he said softly, "or very stupid."

"Maybe both."

The words came out as a whisper, my eyes dropping with tiredness. And something flickered in his eyes… something that looked like possession.

He stood, nodding to the guards.

"Transfer her to the first floor on the east wing. Seal the windows. If she escapes again, I'll hold every guard on duty personally responsible."

He paused, looking down at me one last time, and his voice dropped so low only I could hear it.

"Run again, wife... and I'll chain you to my bed myself and fuck the defiance out of you."

CHAPTER 4

I’M NOT HER.

The new room was smaller… I realized it the moment I opened my eyes.

It had a smaller bed, a smaller fireplace, and smaller walls closing tighter around me, like the house itself had grown tired of my attempts to escape.

And oh… the windows no longer opened.

I stood in front of them anyway, my fingertips pressing uselessly against the cold glass while the lake stretched endlessly beyond it.

My reflection stared back faintly at me through the window. Pale skin, hollow eyes, tangled dark hair… I barely looked human anymore.

Only three days inside this house, and already it felt like pieces of me were disappearing quietly into the walls.

Everything here ran with terrifying precision.

Breakfast arrived at eight, lunch at one, and dinner at seven. The guards rotated every four hours, and every night, just before midnight, footsteps stopped outside my door and remained there for exactly thirty seconds before walking away again.

At some point, I started counting everything because routine was the only thing keeping the panic from swallowing me whole.

The maid arrived that evening balancing a tray in trembling hands. She couldn’t have been much older than me.

Placing the tray down quickly, she immediately turned for the door.

“Wait.”

The word escaped before I could stop it, making her freeze. My heart thumped heavily against my chest as I reached beneath the mattress and pulled out the diamond earrings from my wedding dress.

The only valuable thing I had left.

“I just need help getting out,” I whispered, stepping closer carefully. “Please.”

Her eyes widened immediately. “No.”

“I’ll give you these.” My fingers shook slightly as I held the earrings out toward her. “Just tell me which exit has the fewest guards.”

For one terrible second, hesitation crossed her face, and hope bloomed in my chest. Then fear replaced it just as quickly.

“You shouldn’t have asked me that,” she whispered.

The door opened behind her, and Lucien was standing there. I didn't even hear footsteps.

The maid went pale instantly. She lowered her head and rushed past him so quickly she nearly tripped over herself trying to leave.

Silence filled the room as my fingers tightened instinctively around the earrings.

Lucien’s eyes dropped to them first, then slowly lifted to mine, his soft voice ringing in my ears.

“You tried bribing my staff.”

I swallowed hard and forced myself not to step back. “I just wanted to leave.”

"It's clear now. You're just stupid.”

How the hell can he be so calm with these words!?

His tone ticked me off. “I’m not your prisoner.”

His eyebrow lifted slightly. “No?” he asked softly. “Then what do you think you are?”

Something in my chest tightened, hating the way he looked at me. I started backing away without realizing it until my shoulders hit the wall.

Lucien kept walking toward me slowly, his polished shoes silent against the marble floor. Fear crawled higher into my throat with every inch he closed between us.

“I don’t belong here,” I whispered.

“No,” he agreed quietly. “You don’t.”

Before I could understand what he meant, his hand wrapped suddenly around my throat. I gasped sharply even though he held me with just enough to pin me against the wall and remind me exactly how easily he could.

My hands flew instinctively to his wrist, fingers digging against the fabric of his shirt while my pulse spiraled wildly beneath his palm.

“Listen carefully,” he murmured. “You have no allies here.”

My breathing turned uneven as his thumb shifted slightly against my throat. The movement sent something hot and terrifying through my stomach.

Hanging between the prey and death doors, I noticed him.

Fuck!!

The clean scent of cedar and expensive cologne wafted through my nostrils as my eyes picked the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw and the scar near the corner of his mouth.

And his eyes… they looked even greener up close.

“You understand?” he asked quietly.

I couldn't answer immediately because my eyes chose that time to drop traitorously to his lips.

His grip tightened slightly, his gaze darkening almost imperceptibly before dropping to my lips for the briefest second.

What the hell was wrong with me!!??

This man is a devil in human skin! Why is my heart beating like this!?

Lucien’s thumb brushed once against the side of my throat before he stepped back abruptly. Cold air rushed between us again as I dragged in a shaky breath.

He stared at me for a long moment before turning toward the dinner tray near the fireplace.

“You should eat.”

I wrapped my arms around myself tightly, trying to steady my breathing. “You came to threaten me some more?”

Instead of answering, he pulled out one of the chairs at the table and sat down with a calm, terrifying composure.

“What are the drives?” I asked suddenly.

For the first time since meeting him, Lucien went completely still.

“You don’t know?” he asked quietly.

“If I knew, I would’ve told you already.”

His eyes searched my face carefully enough to make my stomach tighten.

“People lie when they’re afraid.”

“And people point guns at strangers when they’re insane.”

His gaze hardened. “What did you say!?”

I clamped my mouth shut, rolling my tongue to the back of my throat. Silence settled heavily between us before he shifted his gaze towards the worn copy of Jane Eyre sitting near the bed.

“You read often.”

“Yeah.”

His eyebrows dipped and something uneasy twisted in my stomach.

“The reports described you differently.”

Cild slid down my spine. Oh God…

“What reports?”

“I don't let anyone come into my estate without doing my homework on them. And my homework told me you were rather… wild.”

Valentina.

Panic rose so violently inside me I thought he might actually hear it, but I forced my expression to remain neutral.

“What if they exaggerated?” I asked carefully. “Maybe they didn’t know me well.”

Lucien didn’t answer; he just kept staring at me like he was studying me piece by piece.

Then slowly, he stood from the chair and walked toward me again. My heartbeat stumbled painfully as I watched him stop directly in front of me.

His eyes moved slowly across my face like he was finally seeing something clearly for the first time.

And when he spoke, his voice was almost quiet.

“You’re not Valentina.”