Elena's POV
The hot water wrapped around my bruised body, soothing for a fleeting moment the pain of the night before. Steam rose in heavy swirls, blurring the mirror and my thoughts. I wanted to forget, just for a few minutes, dissolve into silence and warmth. My hands still trembled, but I closed my eyes, searching for refuge in the heat.
Then I felt it.
A presence.
The breath of someone behind me.
My eyes flew open. Through the mist, a silhouette appeared in the doorway. Dante. Leaning against the frame, his burning gaze fixed on me, insolent, as if he had every right to be there.
"You think water can cleanse you, Elena?" His voice was low, mocking. "But nothing washes away a debt."
My heart raced. I pulled the towel against me, a useless shield. "Leave… please…"
He stepped closer, each footfall echoing on the marble. "There are no prayers here. Only lessons. And they begin now."
I shrank back into the water, but he knelt beside the tub, his eyes cutting through me. "Look at me. Never lower your eyes. Even naked, even vulnerable, you must learn to hold your ground." His hand slid under my chin, forcing me to raise it. I resisted, but his grip was unyielding. A cruel smile curved his lips. "Good. You're starting to understand."
When he ordered me out, my legs trembled. He caught a towel and wrapped it around me himself, his movements slow, deliberate, savoring my discomfort. Then he picked up a dress laid across the bed: black, fitted, shimmering under the chandelier's light. I reached for it, but his hand stopped mine.
"No, Elena. I decide. I dress you."
My pulse thundered as he unfolded the fabric and slipped it over my shoulders. His fingers brushed my bare skin as he adjusted the cloth against my waist. I shivered, ashamed, unable to hide the tremor. "Stand straight," he commanded, his hands firm as they smoothed the fabric, tightening it around me, erasing every crease. His breath grazed my neck, his scent mingling with the silk.
"Look at yourself," he murmured, turning me toward the mirror. "You think you're a prisoner. But I see a weapon."
I lowered my eyes, humiliated. The dress was beautiful, but I felt trapped inside it. Dante's satisfaction was evident. "Lesson one: posture. A woman who bows her head disappears. A woman who lifts her chin commands attention." His hand forced my chin upward again. "Do you see a victim? Or a woman who can destroy a man with a glance?"
Tears blurred my vision. I hated him, hated the way he twisted me, but a thought crept in: if survival meant learning, perhaps I had no choice.
He led me into a smaller salon, dimly lit, where a servant stood waiting. Dante's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Lesson two: the voice. Words can be sharper than knives. Speak softly, but make every syllable a trap."
I froze. "I don't know how…"
"You will," he said simply. He gestured to the servant. "Say something to him. Anything. But make him believe you hold him."
My throat tightened. I turned toward the man, my voice trembling. "Could you… bring me some water?"
The servant nodded quickly, almost too quickly. Dante laughed, low and cruel. "Even clumsy, you see? He obeyed. Your voice carries weight. Refine it, and you'll break stronger men than him."
I felt a flicker of shame, but also a strange realization: even in fear, I had power. Dante saw it too, and it pleased him.
He circled me like a predator. "Lesson three: the walk. Every step must be deliberate. You don't stumble. You glide. You make men watch you, even when they don't want to."
He forced me to cross the room, his gaze burning into my back. My legs shook, but I obeyed, each step heavy with humiliation. "Again," he ordered. "Slower. Own the floor."
I walked again, my chin raised, my body stiff. Dante's smile widened. "Better. You're learning."
The servant returned with the water. Dante seized the glass, handed it to me, then whispered, "Now thank him. But make it sound like a promise."
I swallowed hard, turned to the man, and said softly, "Thank you." My voice lingered, trembling yet strangely magnetic. The servant's eyes flickered, caught for a moment. Dante's satisfaction was immediate.
"You see? Even innocence can be sharpened into a blade."
I recoiled, shaken. He wasn't just teaching me to seduce—he was shaping me, turning me into an instrument of his game.
When the lesson ended, Dante rose, his shadow stretching across the marble. He approached me, his eyes blazing. "Tonight you learned obedience. Tomorrow you will learn performance."
My breath caught. "Performance?"
His smile widened, cruel. "You will dine with me before my associates. Consider it your first practice. Every gesture, every glance will be judged. And if you fail… you will discover what it truly means to belong to me."
I froze, fear tightening around my chest. The trap was closing. It was no longer about whispered lessons in private—it was about playing a role in front of others. And in that role, the smallest mistake could cost me more than freedom.
I lowered my eyes, burned by humiliation. The dress clung to me like an invisible chain, and yet Dante seemed satisfied. His words still echoed in my head: "You are a weapon." I felt my life slipping away, every gesture now belonging to him.
And in his gaze, I understood that this was only the beginning.
Dante's Point of View
I knew she would try something. I had seen her falter under my orders, trembling in the dress I had imposed on her, but her eyes still burned with that rebellious spark. So I let her believe she had a moment of respite. I wanted to see how far she would dare to go.
I watched her leave her room, barefoot on the cold marble. She thought I was asleep, that I had forgotten her. Her steps were hesitant, yet determined. She moved through the corridors like a lost child, opening doors at random, slipping into the shadows.
When she reached the inner garden, I saw her lift her eyes to the wall. High, rough, but not impossible for a desperate soul. She approached, her fingers gripping the stone, her feet searching for support. She wanted to climb, to tear herself away from me.
I let her believe she could. I watched her pull herself up, her hands trembling, her breath short. She was ready to jump, ready to throw herself into the unknown.
Then I placed my hand on her shoulder.
She froze, chilled. When she turned, her eyes widened. And before she could scream, she fell… directly into my arms.
I held her, not with gentleness, but with a grip that reminded her she belonged to me. She tried to struggle, her weak hands against my chest, but I did not move. I kept her there, forcing her to feel that her escape was nothing but an illusion.
"You think you can climb this wall, Elena? It is not the stone that holds you back. It is me."
I released her just enough for her to feel the vertigo of the fall, then I straightened her, forcing her to meet my gaze. Her eyes were full of tears, but all I saw was another lesson etched deep within her.
"I let you believe you had a chance. It was necessary. You must understand that your freedom no longer exists."
I smiled, savoring her defeat. She trembled, unable to respond. And I knew that tomorrow, before my associates, she would have to play her role. Tonight, she had learned obedience. Tomorrow, she would learn performance.
I carried her in my arms back to her room, her frail body trapped against me, her eyes wide with panic. I shoved the door open with my shoulder and threw her onto the bed. The mattress softened the fall, but not the humiliation.
I leaned over her immediately, my hands braced on either side of her face, my shadow swallowing her whole. Her eyes searched desperately for an escape, but there was only me.
"You think you can escape me, Elena? You think walls, tricks, or hurried steps can save you?" My voice was low, sharp, each word a blade.
She trembled, unable to look away. I brought my face closer, so near she could feel my breath burning against her skin. Her pupils widened, fear exploding in her eyes like a naked truth.
"Listen carefully. If you ever dare to run again… I will make sure you regret every second of your defiance."
The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, until she finally lowered her gaze. Slowly, I straightened, a cruel smile carved across my lips.
"You have no doors, no walls, no sky left. There is only me."
Her breath caught, her body rigid beneath me. And in that moment, I knew—fear had finally taken root.
Tomorrow, she would be forced to play the role I had chosen for her. And if she faltered… the consequences would be far worse than tonight.