Laurel P.O.V
Richardo slammed me back against the wall so fast that the air left my lungs.His hand locked my wrists above my head,pinning them with a strength that made struggling useless. His face hovered close—too close—breathing danger into the air between us like smoke from a burning battlefield.
His presence alone pressed against me harder than any shove could. I backed into the wall on instinct,but he didn't stop.His shadow swallowed mine, trapping me before his hands ever touched me.
"Do you think you can run without getting touched?" He murmured — not soft, not kind, but a low,dangerous rumble that felt like a threat wrapped in a whisper.
I lifted my chin,trying to hide my tremble. "I don't run"
A lie. And we both knew it.
Richardo's hand came up,caging my face and hovering close enough that I could feel the heat of him. His eyes dragged over me,slow, assessing like a predator deciding what part of the prey to break first.
"You took what was mine" He said,his voice was like a blade sliding against stone. "And now you think you can stand here and pretend you're not afraid?"
My breath hitched. He heard it. Of course he did.
He leaned even closer, so close the wall felt safer than the space between us. His fingers brushed my waist — not gentle, not tender, but claiming, the way a lion tests whether the trapped deer still has fight left.
I pressed both hands against his chest, trying to push him back,but he didn't move an inch.His strength was solid, immovable, terrifying.
"Why don't you kill me!!" I whispered.But deep down,I was scared of dieing.
A dark, humorless laugh escaped him, vibrating under my palms.
"If I wanted death" He murmured, "you wouldn't even be standing"
His forehead touched mine — not romantic, not tender — but like he was pinning me in place with nothing more than his will. His breath warmed my lips, stealing the air I needed to think.
I turned my head away, refusing him in a haste.
He followed the movement fast…dangerously…like he had no time left in the world to break down that resistance. The tension snapped between us like lightning, sharp enough to burn.
"You can run from me…" He muttered, voice darkening. "But you can't hide"
My heart hammered so loudly I wondered whether he could hear it beating against my ribs.
His hand tightened on my waist — so painful and firm enough to warn me exactly how much control he held.
My heart hammered painfully.
My palms were sweating against his hold.
The wall felt like ice at my back.
I kept pulling my wrists,desperate to break free even though I knew I couldn't.His control over the situation—over me—was suffocating.
Just when his grip tightened even more,the door burst open.
Abigail stepped in,unfazed by the tension in the air.
Her tone was clipped, sharp, all business.
"La signorina Katy ha bisogno della tua attenzione"
(TRANSLATION: Miss Katy needs your attention)
Richardo exhaled slowly,frustration radiating from him.He turned his head toward her with a cold glare.
Abigail held out a phone.
He snatched it from her hand without looking at me again.
"Prenditi cura degli avanzi" He ordered in a tone that left no room for questioning.
"I'll be back"
(TRANSLATION: Take care of the leftover)
Then he walked out,shutting the door behind him.
Two massive men entered almost immediately.Before I could speak,one grabbed my arm,the other seized the back of my collar.Cold metal snapped around my wrists—handcuffs and a thick piece of cloth wrapped around my eyes.
Darkness swallowed me whole.
I felt myself being dragged, pushed, lifted,moved like a criminal with no sense of direction or time.Every sound echoed: footsteps on concrete, doors slamming, deep voices I couldn't understand.
Then the roar of an engine.
A car door slammed.
The vehicle jerked forward.
My heartbeat roared in my ears.
Minutes? Hours? I couldn't tell.
Finally, the blindfold was ripped off.
My breath caught.
A massive mansion towered before us,rising out of the dense, suffocating forest like a kingdom built for shadows.The gate alone looked taller than a building. Guards lined the driveway. The house glowed with warm lights, but there was nothing comforting about it.
Inside was even worse—
Too grand.
Too perfect.
Too silent.
Dozens of maids moved around the hall in perfect coordination,their eyes lowered, their movements strangely mechanical like they'd been trained for a life without mistakes.
At the top of a long stairway,Abigail turned and faced me.
Her expression was cold, unreadable.
"Richardo has never brought a woman into this house" she said.
"What are you hiding? Who sent you to find information? Who are you to change Richardo!?"
My stomach twisted.
Abigail stepped closer,lowering her voice.
"And I find you suspicious. I'll figure out what you're planning…even if it takes tearing this place apart"
Before I could respond,she unlocked a door and shoved me roughly inside.
The room was beautiful,luxury dripping from every corner,but everything felt untouched like no human had ever slept here.
A golden cage.
The door locked behind me with a heavy click.
Panic crashed into me like a wave.
Why bring me here?
Why lock me inside a room instead of killing me immediately?
I paced the room,my thoughts spiraling.
Richardo is ruthless.
Cold-blooded.
Unpredictable.
If I stayed useless…he would get rid of me.
I sank onto the bed,gripping the sheets as fear coiled around my chest.
I didn't want to die.
Not here.
Not like this.
If he saw me as valuable,I would survive.
If he saw me as disposable,I wouldn't last a day.
So I whispered to myself,my voice trembled but determined:
"I need him to trust me…I need him to want me alive…I need him to fall for me"
Even if it meant playing the most dangerous role of my life.
I began planning—strategizing—not in a romantic way,but like someone trying to outsmart a predator.
Every word.
Every move.
Every glance.
A survival game.
Because escaping a mafia boss wasn't luck.
It was strategy.
And tonight…strategy was all I had left.