Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Eleonora
I look up to the star-filled sky taking a deep breath. The night breeze brushes against my skin, cool and soothing, but it does nothing to calm the storm inside me.
His cum is still leaking slowly down my thighs, soaking into the fabric of my panties with every shift of my legs. My ass is tender and raw from his spanking, the sting flaring every time my dress moves against it.
I had no idea I was into spanking until now. I like the reminder of his hands on me. I like knowing I’m marked by him.
I press my thighs together, feeling the soreness between my legs, the delicious ache where he was buried so deep inside me earlier.
I should hate him. He kidnapped me. He’s using me as leverage against my father. He’s everything I’m supposed to fear.
And yet I let him fuck me. I begged him to. I came so hard I saw stars, screaming his name while he spilled inside me.
I shake my head, gripping the banister tighter.
Am I having Stockholm syndrome? I’ve read about it. Victims falling for their captors. It has to be that. There’s no other explanation for why I’m standing here, aching for the man who stole me.
The breeze picks up, lifting strands of the blonde wig. I close my eyes for a second, trying to steady my breathing.
The moment is broken, as an arrogant voice cuts through the night behind me.
“My, my… aren't you beautiful?”
I know that voice, I've heard it one too many times not to recognize it.
I slowly turn around to find Andrea Gallo standing there, mask pushed up slightly on his forehead, a smug smile curling his lips as his eyes rake over me.
Gallo’s mask is more decoration than disguise, sitting high on his forehead like he couldn’t be bothered.
As if to prove my point, he reaches up and removes it completely, revealing that arrogant face I’ve seen in too many family meetings. I can't believe I was going to marry this man. Guess I have Nico to thank for saving me.
Does he recognize me? I doubt it. With the wig and mask, there's no way. I fight to keep my expression neutral, swallowing the fear rising in my throat.
I dart a quick glance toward where Nico was standing just moments ago. He’s now a few feet away, and in deep in conversation with someone, his back partially turned. His men, the ones who were hovering nearby, are nowhere in sight.
“Care for one of these?” Gallo is holding a pack of cigarettes to me.
I shake my head. “I don’t smoke.”
“Ah, my mistake.” He pockets the cigarettes, and steps closer. His eyes drag slowly down my body. “That mask looks exquisite on you. And the dress… you wear it beautifully.”
“Thank you,” I reply stiffly, forcing a polite smile.
He moves even closer, reaching out as if to touch my hair. I step back quickly.
“Don’t,” I say, sharper than I intended.
He chuckles, low and amused. “What’s wrong? Are you here with someone?”
“Yes,” I answer without hesitation. “My boyfriend, and he doesn't like it when other men are too close for comfort.”
I nod subtly in Nico’s direction. Gallo follows my gaze, studying him for a moment.
“Hmm, I see,” he murmurs. “How long have you two been together?”
“Six months,” I blurt out without thinking.
Gallo nods slowly, but something in his eyes tells me he doesn’t fully buy it. The way he’s looking at me makes my skin crawl.
“I should get back to him,” I say, trying to step away. Before I can move, his hand shoots out and grabs my wrist in a bruising grip.
“Not so fast,” he says, voice low and threatening. “I think we should talk a little more.”
“Let me go!”
I try to yank my wrist away, but his grip is so tight.
His fingers digging into my skin hard enough to leave marks.
“Your father has no idea what a liar his daughter is,” he says, voice low and venomous, laced with dark amusement.
My stomach drops. He knows it's me.
The realization makes my heart beat so fast, I fear it might jump out of my chest.
The party noise fades into a dull roar in my ears. The scent of his cologne, mixed with cigarette smoke, turns my stomach.
“Hello Eleonora.”
Hearing him say my name makes my skin crawl.
He leans in closer, his breath brushing my ear. “I only needed to look into those eyes to recognize them. You really thought you could hide from me, Eleonora? Your father and I have been tearing the city apart looking for you and your sister and you were right under our noses”
I try to pull my arm away, but his grip tightens, almost painful now. My skin burns where he’s holding me.
“Where’s your sister?” he demands, voice dropping even lower. “I was told that bastard kidnapped you both. Yet here you are, looking very cozy with the enemy. Tell me, are you sleeping with him, hmm?”
I yank my arm harder, finally managing to twist it free. “Get your hands off me.”
I push at his chest, stepping back, but he follows, crowding me against the balcony railing. The stone presses cold and hard into my lower back.
“Oh, I like this fire,” he says, eyes gleaming. “Maybe I chose the wrong sister after all. Sienna was always too soft. But you… you’ve got claws. I think I’d enjoy breaking you.”
My heart is pounding so hard it hurts. I lift my chin, forcing every ounce of defiance I have left into my voice. “You will never have me!”
Gallo laughs softly, but there’s no humor in it.
“Bold words for a girl playing dress-up in enemy territory.”
I glare at him, refusing to cower, even as my legs shake beneath me.
I need Nico.
But I can’t call for him without causing the exact scene I was trying to avoid.
As if being beckoned upon, Nico appears out of nowhere.
One second, I’m trapped against the balcony railing with Andrea’s hand still gripping my wrist, and the next, a powerful arm wraps around my waist and yanks me backward into a hard, familiar chest. The scent of Nico’s cologne floods my senses.
“Get your fucking hands off her,” Nico growls.
Andrea releases me instantly, but his smirk only widens as he faces Nico. “Lombardi. I was wondering when you’d show up to claim your stolen goods.”
Nico steps in front of me, shielding my body with his own.
Everything happens so fast. Nico’s fist crashes into Andrea's face with brutal force. The crack of bone is sickening. Andrea staggers back, blood spraying from his nose, and he whips out his gun. Shouts erupt around us as people nearby notice the commotion.
Nico shoves me behind him harder. “Stay back!”
One of Andrea’s men lunges from the side, knife in hand. Nico turns just in time, but not fast enough. The blade slices across his side, cutting through his tuxedo jacket. I see the flash of red blooming against white fabric.
“Nico!” I scream.
He doesn’t even flinch. He grabs the man’s wrist, twists it with a sickening snap, and fires two silenced shots into his chest. The man drops like a sack of stones.
Chaos explodes around us. Guests scream and scatter. More of Andrea's men surge forward, same as Nico's men.
I should run. This is my chance, the perfect distraction. I could disappear into the panicked crowd, slip through a side exit, and never look back.
But I don’t. I can't.
Instead, I grab a heavy champagne bottle from a nearby table and swing it with all my strength at the nearest attacker who’s raising a gun toward Nico’s back. The bottle shatters against his skull. He drops with a grunt.
Nico spins, eyes wild when he sees me. “Eleonora—!”
Another man comes at him. Nico shoots him cleanly between the eyes, then grabs my arm and pulls me with him as we run.
Gunshots ring out behind us. We weave through screaming guests, Nico’s hand like iron around mine, shielding me with his body as we sprint toward the back exit.
We burst through a service door into the cool night air. Nico doesn’t stop. He keeps running, dragging me with him until we reach one of his waiting SUVs. He shoves me into the back seat and climbs in after me.
“Drive!” he barks at the driver.
The car peels away, tires screeching. I turn to look at Nico. Blood is soaking through his shirt from the knife wound, but he's not focused on that, eyes scanning me frantically.
“Are you hurt?” he demands, hands already moving over me, checking for injuries.
I shake my head, tears stinging my eyes. “No… but you are.”
He ignores that, pulling me against his chest, one hand cupping the back of my head like he’s afraid I might vanish.
I cling to him, breathing in his scent, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against mine.
“You’re bleeding,” I whisper, pulling away and reaching for the tear in his tuxedo jacket. The fabric is soaked with dark red.
I carefully pull it aside, exposing the knife wound on his side. It’s a long gash, but it doesn’t look too deep. Still, the sight of his blood makes my stomach twist.
“It’s nothing,” he says, voice tight, but he doesn’t stop me when I press my palm gently against the wound, trying to slow the bleeding with the edge of his ruined shirt.
“You got stabbed because of me.”
He catches my wrist, holding it firmly but not painfully. His eyes meet mine in the dark. “This wasn't your fault.”
I swallow hard, the adrenaline still coursing through me. I had the chance tonight, a real chance to run. To escape and find my sisters. But I didn’t. I stayed. I fought beside him. I chose him in that moment.
I tell myself it was smart. Staying with Nico keeps Sienna safer. As long as my father and Gallo believe he has both of us, they won’t hunt her as aggressively. It buys her more time to disappear completely.
But that’s not the full truth, and I know it.
Emotionally… something inside me has shifted. My loyalty isn’t to my father’s empire anymore. It’s cracking, splintering away from him. And it’s leaning toward the dangerous, complicated man sitting beside me.
Nico watches me closely, like he can see the war happening behind my eyes.
“We got what we needed tonight,” he says quietly. “Your father and the Gallos still have no idea Sienna isn’t with us. That gives us leverage. More time.”
I nod slowly, processing his words. “So… the plan is still working?”
“For now.” He leans back against the seat, wincing slightly as the movement pulls at his wound.
I stay quiet for a moment, my hand still pressed against his side even though the bleeding has slowed.
“What did Gallo say to you?”
I let out a sigh and go ahead to tell him.