That evening , Aria barely touched her dinner. She sat on the balcony instead, knees drawn up to her chest, watching the city below blur into a restless ocean of people who didn't know her name.
The first signs of her pregnancy were impossible to ignore now. The queasiness, the dizziness when she stood too fast and the quiet, smug way Luca watched her when he thought she wouldn't notice.
He hadn't touched her again since that night. But he didn't have to. His control wrapped around her like an invisible leash..the locked penthouse, the guards she caught hovering by the elevator, Maria's gentle eyes always a little too watchful.
She'd never been so well-fed and yet so starved.
"Eat," Luca said that evening, when he found her picking at her dinner . His voice was calm but left no room for argument. He sat across from her at the long dining table, the city lights flickering behind him like a crown.
"I'm not hungry."
"Try again."
He poured her a glass of water, his fingers brushing hers when he set it down. Even that small touch sent a rush of heat down her spine, a reminder of everything she'd given him. Or maybe everything he'd taken.
She set the glass down. "I'm not your prisoner."
His eyebrow twitched, the only sign of his temper. "No, Aria. You're my investment. I protect what's mine."
He stood and rounded the table before she could pull away. One hand curled under her chin, tilting her face up. His thumb brushed her lower lip so gentle it made her ache.
"Don't make me remind you what happens if you break the rules."
She forced herself to meet his eyes. "I'm carrying your child. What more do you want from me?"
His mouth curved into something close to a smile. "Everything."
After dinner, she fled to the guest bedroom.. the one she pretended was hers, even though her things sat scattered through the penthouse like she belonged everywhere and nowhere.
She dug out her sketchbook, hoping the pencil would quiet her thoughts. But her hand wouldn't stop trembling. Each line blurred until all she'd drawn was a mess of black smudges.
A knock at the door made her flinch.
"Come in," she called, already knowing who it was.
Luca stepped inside without hesitation. He leaned against the door, arms crossed over his chest, looking at her with that frustrating mix of irritation and something too raw to name.
"Are you going to keep sulking in here like a child?" he asked.
She tossed the pencil aside. "I'm not sulking. I'm trying to breathe."
He pushed off the wall, moving closer. "You don't have to fight me every second, Aria. You can make this easier on yourself."
"Easier?" She let out a sharp laugh. "What's easy about being trapped in your glass tower? About pretending this is normal?"
He sat on the edge of the bed, too close. "This is normal. For me. And if you'd stop fighting me long enough to see that, you'd realize it could be good for you, too."
She stared at him, heat rising in her chest. "Don't pretend you care."
Something in his eyes flickered. "Don't pretend you don't want me to."
His hand brushed her knee, slow and deliberate. Her pulse jumped. She hated that he felt it that his touch made her body betray every vow she'd made to hate him.
"You think I enjoy keeping you here like this?" he said, voice low. "I'd rather you wanted to stay."
"Then let me go."
His lips twitched not quite a smile. "No."
Her heart slammed against her ribs when he leaned closer, his breath warm on her neck.
"Stop pretending you don't like this game, Aria," he murmured. "You want to feel owned. You want someone to break you out of that prison in your head."
She shoved him back. "You're insane."
But he was already standing, straightening his cuffs as if her outburst hadn't touched him at all. "Keep fighting me if you want. Just remember, you can't outrun what you signed up for."
He left her there, breathless and furious, wanting to scream at the locked door that didn't exist.
The next morning, she found her phone sitting on the table in the living room. She hadn't seen it in days. She snatched it up, pulse racing the idea of calling someone, anyone, making her hands tremble.
But when she unlocked it, she found it wiped clean no contacts, no messages, just a single new note.
"Don't test me."
Luca's threat stared back at her, a reminder that this cage didn't have bars,it had his name.
Maria found her an hour later, still gripping the useless phone. "You should rest," Maria said gently. "It's not good for you to be so worked up."
Aria forced a smile she didn't feel. "Has he always been like this?"
Maria paused, then turned away to straighten the pillows on the couch. "Mr. Cross does what he must. He protects what's his."
That night, she heard Luca on the phone in his office again. She leaned against the wall, straining to make out the words. This time, there was no talk of her running. No threats.
Just a single sentence that made her blood run cold:
"If she doesn't learn to obey, she'll learn to beg."
She stumbled back to her room, her heart pounding. She thought of her parents safe now, for her sake. Of the child growing inside her, tying her to him in a way she hadn't really believed until now.
And for the first time since signing that contract, she wondered if she could survive loving a man who saw her as nothing more than his most ruthless claim.