Livia came to herself in a dimly lit room.
A chandelier swayed overhead, its crystals throwing broken light across the walls.Her head throbbed, her limbs felt heavy. She blinked hard, sitting up slowly. Her wrists were bound, but not tightly. Strange. Everything about this place was wrong. Velvet chairs. Marble floors. Gold-framed paintings. Not the dungeon she had expected. This place was ...tasteful. No!
It was terrifying.
The door opened.
And in walked him.
Tall. Regal posture wrapped in an obsidian-black suit, stitched to perfection. His eyes -green like shattered glass, sharp and unreadable-pinned her in place. And that smirk. Casual. Knowing. Dangerous.
A scar ran along his jaw, giving him a menacing edge Angelo never had. Why was she comparing him to Angelo? A lot of people had emerald green eyes. Unless...
Her breath caught in her throat but the resemblance was impossible to miss. Same eyes as Angelo. Same stillness in their presence. But this man carried his cruelty openly, like cologne. Where Angelo was cold, this one burned. But she decided not to jump into conclusions, faces could be deceptive
"Good," he said, smooth and deep,his voice like velvet over blades, almost amused. "You're awake."
"Who are you?" she demanded, trying to sound strong. Her voice cracked anyway. "Why did you bring me here?"
He ignored the question, sighing as he lowered himself into a velvet armchair directly across from her. His posture screamed control- a predator at ease in his den.
" I'll have them bring a gag next time ," he muttered, displeased. He studied her with open arrogance, like she was some dirty unwanted bug under glass.
Livia didn't flinch. She'd dealt with worse. Hell, she used to serve coffee to a tyrant in a $5,000 suit. She narrowed her eyes, giving him a bored expression as if this was just another day of customer service nonsense, the same she used when her old boss asked for a "cheese-infused cup of cold coffee". She had survived three days of verbal acid and spilled cappuccino.
But that memory made her jaw twitch-and that was her mistake.
The smirk vanished. In a blink, he surged forward, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and yanked her head back until she was forced to look up at him. Her body screamed in protest, but she refused to cry out.
The sheer audacity of her defiance set something off in him.
"Still got bite," he muttered, more intrigued than angry.
He'd heard about her. The girl who followed Angelo around like a loyal shadow. Not romantically-not from what he could tell. But this one? She stayed in his mansion longer than anyone, any young woman had in years. Three days too long. All for coffee?
Right. The fucker of a nephew hadn't even allowed women into his office. But this he did.
His hand relaxed, fingers brushing down her jawline-almost gentle-until he clutched her chin with one large, unyielding hand.
"What's your name, bellissima?" he asked. The venom in his voice wasn't concealed-it dripped, slow and deliberate..(Beautiful)
She met his gaze, jaw clenched.
Nothing.
His grip tightened suddenly, sending a white-hot spike of pain shooting through her face and neck. Her breath hitched.
"Li-Liv!" she gasped, biting the inside of her cheek as the word forced its way out.
He let her go, smug satisfaction etched into every cruel line of his face. She scrambled back until her spine hit the chair's carved frame. Yes...exactly. She should have done just that in the beginning. She should've felt the fear the moment she laid eyes on him.
Her eyes glistened with tears, but she refused to let them fall. Not for him. It's not like he cared.
He didn't see a woman. He saw a weapon. A loaded gun someone else handed him, wrapped in pink ribbon.
To him, she was just a pawn. A newly acquired piece in a game she didn't know she was playing.
And he had no intention of letting her off the board.
He nodded at someone at the back. Livia had no idea the person was in the room until he appeared.
A camera.
"Take a few pictures," Damien Vitale said casually, like he was commenting on the weather. "Might as well give my first ever gift to my nephew."
She froze.
Gift?
Her stomach dropped, a hollow ache forming in her gut. "Wait..." she whispered. "Nephew?"
He isn't going to force me marry anyone like the movies right?
Her whispering didn't go unnoticed as a smile registered on the man's face.
"Oh, I forgot to introduce myself." He leaned back in the chair, hands folded neatly over his lap. "Damien Vitale. I suppose the last name isn't lost on you."
Ohh so she wasn't wrong comparing this man to her former boss. He was his freaking uncle. Seems dominance, arrogance and being heartless run through the family.
Handsome men indeed- too bad they couldn't woo any woman due to their bruised personalities. Otherwise she would've been whipped . She shook her head at her train of thoughts. Jesus..... If she manages to get out of this crap she'll get a brain and conscience transplant. They weren't helping her in this situation
Damien continued, watching her like a lion would with its prey "Three days," he mused. "That's longer than any woman's lasted near him. I wonder what made you so special."
Livia blinked, stunned silent. She almost laughed. Special? She was just a coffee girl. And three days was long? What!?
She sighed. "I don't know how I'm related to all this though. I got fired okay. "I mean, you know him. The guy's heartless." she said her heart clenching at the last statement. She remembered her first day at the job where she almost slipped in the kitchen and he helped her up and even showed her how he wanted his coffee done. Maybe he wasn't too heartless or he was just showing her the sugar before giving her the salt.
Damien just looked at her, a sinister smile on his lips. "Ohh trust me, the next twenty-four hours is going to be a roller coaster of events. Let's see how long your sharp tongue and sanity lasts"