Blood and obsession

The walls weren't made of bars, but they held her all the same.

Glass. Steel. Luxury dripping from every surface like poison honey. The penthouse was quiet, almost sterile, except for the sound of her breath catching in the back of her throat-and the soft clink of metal every time she moved her wrists.

Handcuffs.

Polished, heavy. Chained to the steel-framed bed like she was a piece of art someone wanted to display... or destroy.

Ana sat up slowly, her body aching from the night before, her memories fractured but returning like bruises. The auction. The diamond. The devil in a suit.

She remembered his voice-deep, smooth, the kind that slid into your bones and stayed there.

"Then you'll understand when I borrow you."

She should have fought harder.

But she hadn't.

And now... she was here.

Wherever here was.

---

The door opened with a quiet click.

He entered like he owned the world.

And maybe he did.

Domenico Bellandi was a man carved from winter-tall, sharp, dangerous in the way silent things always are. He didn't wear violence like a weapon. He was violence. Wrapped in black slacks, a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, forearms dusted with faint scars and a tattoo that crawled down one wrist like ivy.

Ana's pulse quickened, but her voice stayed steady.

"Most men at least buy a girl dinner before kidnapping her."

He didn't smile.

Didn't blink.

Just poured himself a drink from the bar across the room and sipped it like she wasn't handcuffed to his bed.

"You don't get sarcasm privileges yet," he said calmly.

She scowled. "I didn't know the diamond was yours."

"You didn't ask."

"I didn't have time."

"You had time to lie. Time to run. Time to insult me."

He walked toward her slowly, glass still in hand.

"You're lucky I find that interesting."

---

She flinched when he got too close-and hated herself for it.

That seemed to amuse him. He leaned down, fingers brushing the metal cuff around her wrist. Not rough. Just a touch. Cold and slow.

"You're not here because of the diamond," he murmured. "You're here because I want to know why someone like you would be stupid enough to walk into a death trap wearing stilettos and a smirk."

Her silence was answer enough.

So he pulled up a chair and sat across from her. Legs apart. Hands calm. Power dripping from every inch of his presence.

"You're not a petty thief," he said.

Ana narrowed her eyes. "You don't know me."

"No. But I will."

---

A long pause filled the space between them.

Ana stared at the glass behind him. It overlooked the city like a god on a throne. The view was meant to impress, to intimidate. It didn't.

What scared her was him.

"You gonna kill me?" she asked quietly.

Domenico's gaze flicked to her lips, then her eyes.

"No," he said simply. "If I wanted you dead, you'd never have made it out of the auction."

She swallowed.

"Then what?"

He tilted his head.

"I want to know who sent you."

Her breath caught. "No one sent me."

He leaned forward. "Lie again and I'll show you how creative I can be."

Ana didn't flinch this time.

She leaned forward too.

"Then maybe you should show me now, devil."

---

The air between them crackled.

For one suspended second, the silence was so loud it throbbed. Her pulse in her throat. His tension across the room like a loaded gun.

Then-

He stood.

Took one step forward.

And cupped her chin.

Not gently.

Not cruelly.

Just... firmly. Like he wanted to see if she'd bite.

She did.

"You think I'm scared of you?" she whispered.

He smiled then. Slow. Wicked. Dangerous.

"I hope not," he murmured. "Because fear bores me."

---

He left her cuffed.

But he brought her dinner.

Not through a servant. He brought it himself. Set it on a tray. Real silver. Expensive wine. Medium rare steak and truffle potatoes.

She didn't eat.

Not immediately.

He didn't leave.

Just stood there watching her-like a lion waiting for the deer to either run or kneel.

Eventually, her hunger won.

She took one bite.

He watched every chew.

And when she set the fork down, she looked him straight in the eye and said:

"I'm not your prisoner."

Domenico knelt in front of her, gaze dark and deadly.

"No," he said quietly. "You're my puzzle."

And he always finished what he started.