Chapter Six CHIARA
I’d been in the penthouse for over a week. The door hadn’t been unlocked once, and my escape plans were fading. Food was delivered to me. I never saw anyone else. I hadn’t even left the room since I was brought in.
Still, I was desperate to get out the first chance I got. I missed my siblings fiercely, replaying every memory with them in my mind until it hurt.
But for the time being, I was completely dependent on Leo Moretti. And he wasn’t a merciful man.
He never knocked when he came in. The door unlocked, opened, and Leo stepped inside like it was his right to invade my space.
“Get dressed,” he said after giving me a short look. “Nothing casual.”
I stayed where I was on the edge of the bed, watching him carefully. I was wearing one of the outfits I’d found in the dresser - casual leggings and a crop top. It was the least revealing outfit I found.
“For what?” I asked.
“We’re going out,” he said simply.
My stomach tightened at that. “Where?”
“Dinner,” he shrugged, picking up the hairbrush on my vanity. “You want me to help with your hair?”
I touched my flowing locks. Ever since he’d brushed it, I’d kept it down. I told myself it was because I didn’t want a punishment. Anything to close my eyes to the truth. I wanted him to like me. If I pleased him, he’d be more lenient, opening a way for my escape.
“No thanks,” I said firmly. “I’m not a child.”
“You act like one,” he muttered under his breath. “A dress is waiting for you. We’ll see a show after dinner.”
“A show,” I repeated, unable to hide the edge in my voice. “What am I, your date?”
His gaze slid over me slowly, taking his time with it in a way that made my skin prickle. “You’re my wife to be. We should be seen together before I force a ring on that finger.”
The words landed heavy, familiar and wrong all at once. I pushed myself up, ignoring the pull in my ankle. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
He didn’t react the way a normal person would. No anger, no argument. Just that slight tilt of his head, like I’d said something mildly interesting instead of defiant. “Of course you are.”
“And if I don’t?” I fought back.
Something shifted in his eyes then, something quieter and colder than anger.
“Then I carry you out in front of my entire staff,” he said evenly. “And you learn the hard way not to test me in public.”
My jaw clenched, but I didn’t look away. I was fighting him for show, and I wondered if he knew it. The truth was… I was eager to get out. The date provided an opportunity for me to run. My heart sped up at the thought of getting away from him.
Leo stepped closer, stopping just within reach, close enough that I could feel the heat of him without him touching me.
“I’m giving you the opportunity to walk beside me,” he added, softer this time, like it was a privilege instead of a threat. “An opportunity to be seen as the most powerful woman in the city.”
So he wasn’t offering freedom. He was giving me permission to exit, probably watched more closely than ever.
“I don’t need your opportunities,” I said. “I don’t need any of the things you give me.”
“No,” he agreed. “But you’ll take them anyway. Just like you eat my food, and wear the clothes I picked for you. Just like your hair. I’ve noticed you’re wearing it down. The way I like.”
I let out a slow breath, forcing myself to stay steady. I wasn’t going to acknowledge his words. “You trust me not to run?”
His mouth curved, just slightly. “Of course not.”
“Then why take me?”
“Because if you try,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to pull my attention, “I’ll enjoy catching you.”
My pulse stumbled at that, something cold sliding down my spine. It wasn’t reassurance. It wasn’t even a warning. It was a promise.
The dress waiting for me was blood red. Of course it was. Everything about this date felt deliberate.
Silk skimmed over my skin in a way that made me feel exposed without actually revealing anything, clinging in places that made me too aware of my own body. I stood in front of the mirror longer than I needed to, staring at a version of myself I didn’t quite recognize.
This wasn’t me. This was something Leo was shaping for his own enjoyment.
“Turn around.”
I didn’t hear him come in. I swallowed and did it anyway. His gaze moved over me slowly, assessing, like he was deciding whether I met some standard I didn’t want to understand.
“Bellissima,” he murmured. “You look so good for me.”
“I didn’t dress for you,” I reminded him.
“No?” He stepped behind me, close enough that I could feel him there without seeing him, his presence pressing in. “Then who?”
I didn’t answer, because there wasn’t anyone else, and we both knew it. His fingers brushed my hair, lifting a loose strand before letting it fall again.
“Loose,” he said. “Like I told you.”
“I don’t care what you told me,” I said.
“I know,” he said, and there was something almost amused in it. “My little fighter.”
The car ride was worse than silence. It was awareness, of Leo sitting too close, of the city outside, of the fact that the car door wasn’t locked, like he was testing me already.
I could run.
The thought sat there, heavy and real. When the car slowed at a red light, I saw people just outside the window. Normal people, moving through their lives like nothing had changed. All I had to do was open the door. My hand shifted slightly in my lap before I could stop it.
Leo didn’t even look at me. “Try it. I fucking dare you.”
My breath caught. “I wasn’t trying to-”
“Lie again,” he said mildly, “and see how that works out for you.”
I stilled, forcing my hands to stay where they were. The light turned green, and the car moved again, the moment passing before I could decide what I was going to do. My chance was gone. Something twisted in my chest that felt disturbingly like relief.
The venue was already waiting for him. Glass and light and people who looked like they belonged there, all of it shifting the second our car pulled up to the curb.
Conversations slowed. Heads turned. It wasn’t loud, it wasn't obvious, but it was there all the same. Power didn’t need to announce itself, and neither did Leo Moretti.
His hand settled at the small of my back, firm and unyielding, guiding me forward.
“Stay close,” he said under his breath.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I snapped.
“I know,” he replied. “That’s the point.”
The doors opened, and there were cameras, flashes going off in quick bursts, voices calling out over each other as we walked to the entrance of the building.
“Leo, over here!”
“Who is she?”
I wasn’t expecting so much attention. I thought men like him preferred to operate from the shadows. I froze for half a second before Leo’s hand tightened slightly, grounding me whether I wanted it or not.
“Smile,” he murmured.
“I hate you,” I reminded him.
“I know,” he said simply. “Now fucking smile.”
I smiled. The flash went off. The crowds parted to let us into the restaurant, and I felt like a lamb being led off to slaughter.
Dinner felt less like a meal and more like something staged, people coming to the table one after another, their attention lingering on me just a little too long. I could feel it in the way their gazes slid over me, curious, assessing. I realized Leo hadn’t told anyone about me yet.
It was strange that we’d only met for the first time less than a month ago. And now here I was, posing as his date, when it was the last thing I wanted.
“Leo,” one of the men coming to our table said, his eyes settling on me. “You’ve been hiding her.”
“Yes,” Leo replied, like it was obvious. “You can see why.”
“She’s beautiful,” the man said with a shit-eating grin. Something in the air shifted, subtle but immediate. Leo’s hand, resting behind me, went still.
“Careful,” he said. “You don’t want to upset me, do you?”
It wasn’t loud, but it didn’t need to be. The man gave a small laugh, like he didn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “Just a compliment for the lovely signorina.”
Leo looked at him then, properly this time, and whatever he saw must have been enough, because the man’s smile faltered.
“Keep it to yourself,” Leo said. “She doesn’t want your compliments.”
The moment passed as quickly as it came, the conversation moving on like nothing had happened, but I felt it settle in the space between us anyway. A line had been drawn.
We finished dinner, all seven courses, and I forced myself to be on my best behavior. At the table, I was quiet, replying to Leo with a word or two, but he didn’t seem bothered it.
By the time the cabaret show started, I was sick of it all. The lights dimmed, music low and steady as dancers moved across the stage, but my attention kept pulling elsewhere.
Every time someone looked at me, I felt it. Not their gaze. His.
Watching them. Tracking every person who looked at me like he was compiling a hit list.
“Stop it,” I whispered.
“Stop what?” he asked.
“Looking at them like that,” I murmured.
His attention shifted to me slowly. “Like what, Chiara?”
“Like…” I hesitated, swallowing. “Like you’re going to kill them.”
There was a pause, just long enough to make my chest tighten.
“Only if they forget what’s mine,” he said.
“I’m not yours,” I reminded him.
The words had barely left my mouth before his hand moved, pulling me sideways with enough force to make me lose my balance. I landed on his lap with a sharp breath, my hands instinctively bracing against his shoulders.
“Leo…”
“Sit still,” he said quietly.
“I am sitting-”
“Properly.”
His arm settled around my waist, firm, locking me in place without hurting me, but leaving no room to move. Heat rushed to my face as I became painfully aware of the eyes on us.
“People are staring,” I hissed.
“Good,” he said, his voice low near my ear. The word sent something cold through me. “Let them.”
Another flash went off somewhere in front of us, someone clearly bold enough to capture this moment. I tried to shift, but his grip didn’t loosen.