Chapter 8 The Cost of Protection

Morning arrived without softness.

There was no gentle easing into daylight, no illusion of peace. The estate woke like a war machine recalibrating after a strike-efficient, silent, mercilessly precise. Elena sensed it before she saw it, felt it in the subtle shift of the air, the tightened security, the way footsteps outside her door multiplied and never fully faded.

She sat at the edge of her bed, hands folded in her lap, staring at the faint scuff on the marble floor where her shoes had scraped the night before. Evidence of disobedience. Of presence.

Of survival.

A knock came-firm, controlled.

Mara entered without waiting for permission, her expression unreadable. "You're not to leave this room today."

Elena looked up calmly. "House arrest?"

"Protection."

Elena let out a humorless breath. "You keep calling it that."

Mara's gaze softened for a fraction of a second. "Last night changed things."

"For who?"

"For everyone," Mara replied, echoing Alessandro's words from the night before. "Especially him."

Elena said nothing as Mara placed a tray of food on the table. She waited until the door closed again before she stood and crossed the room, pressing her palm flat against the cool glass of the window.

The inner garden was visible from here. Guards lined its perimeter now, more than before. Armed. Alert.

A fortress tightening inward.

She understood the message clearly.

You are the center of the problem.

Hours passed slowly. Elena read, paced, thought. She replayed Alessandro's face in the mirror-the flicker of hesitation, the quiet fracture beneath his control. Power, she was learning, was not the absence of weakness. It was the constant war against it.

Near evening, the door opened again.

This time, Alessandro entered alone.

He looked different. Not disheveled, not wounded-but heavier somehow, like the weight of command had settled deeper into his bones. His dark shirt was crisp, his posture rigid, his expression locked down behind iron discipline.

"You should have knocked," Elena said quietly.

"This is my house."

"That doesn't make my room yours."

A flicker of irritation crossed his face, quickly masked.

"You frightened my people last night," he said.

"They frightened me first."

"You disobeyed a direct order."

"I reacted to gunfire."

"You reacted to curiosity," he corrected.

Elena stepped closer, closing the distance he clearly intended to keep. "No. I reacted to fear. The kind you pretend you don't feel."

His jaw tightened. "I came here to set boundaries."

"Good," she replied. "I have a few of my own."

The air between them thickened.

"You will remain under increased security," Alessandro said. "Your movements will be restricted. Escorts at all times."

"I already live like a ghost," Elena said. "You want to erase me completely?"

"I want to keep you alive."

"At what cost?"

He didn't answer immediately.

Elena softened her voice. "Last night wasn't the first time you protected me."

"No," he admitted.

"And it won't be the last."

"That depends on you."

She studied him carefully. "You're punishing yourself, not me."

His eyes snapped to hers. "You think this is easy?"

"No," she said. "I think it's unbearable."

Silence stretched.

"I buried three men this morning," Alessandro said finally. "One for betrayal. Two for loyalty."

"I'm sorry," Elena said, and meant it.

He looked at her sharply. "Don't."

"Why not?"

"Because sympathy blurs lines."

"You're the one who crossed them," she said gently.

That struck deeper than anger would have.

Alessandro moved away, running a hand through his hair. "You don't understand the cost of what I do."

"Then tell me," Elena challenged. "Instead of locking me away and calling it care."

He turned back to her slowly. "Every person I protect becomes a target."

Elena felt the weight of that truth settle into her chest.

"You didn't choose this life," he continued. "But the moment you walked into it, it marked you."

"I was marked the moment you took me," she said.

"Yes," he agreed quietly. "And I have been paying for it ever since."

She took a step closer again. "Then stop pretending this is one-sided."

Their proximity crackled with tension-fear, anger, something dangerously close to desire.

"You are not expendable," Alessandro said. "Do you understand that?"

Elena's voice dropped. "Then stop treating me like a liability."

He hesitated.

Then, with visible effort, he said, "I don't know how."

The admission hung raw and unguarded between them.

Elena's heart pounded. "You don't need to cage me to keep me safe."

"You don't know how many enemies I have."

"I don't need to," she replied. "I just need you to see that control isn't protection-it's fear wearing authority."

For a moment, Alessandro looked almost lost.

Then the mask slid back into place.

"This conversation is over," he said firmly. "Tonight, there will be a gathering. My lieutenants. I want you present."

Her brows knitted together. "You just said I'm a target."

"I also said protection has a cost," he replied. "Visibility is part of it."

"You want to parade me."

"I want them to understand," he corrected. "You are under my protection. Publicly."

"And if they don't approve?"

"Then they learn."

The gathering took place in the grand hall after nightfall.

Candles burned low, casting long shadows against towering walls. Men and women dressed in tailored power filled the space, voices low, eyes sharp. Conversations stalled as Elena entered beside Alessandro.

She felt every gaze like a blade.

Alessandro's hand rested lightly at the small of her back-not possessive, but unmistakably present.

A statement.

"This is Elena," Alessandro said, his voice carrying effortlessly. "She is under my protection."

No explanation. No justification.

A murmur rippled through the room.

One man stepped forward, older, eyes calculating. "Protection can be... expensive."

Alessandro met his gaze evenly. "So is disobedience."

The message landed.

Elena stood tall, heart racing, refusing to shrink. She understood now-this was not just about safety. This was Alessandro drawing a line in blood and marble.

Later, when the gathering dispersed and the estate settled into uneasy quiet, Elena found herself alone with Alessandro again on a balcony overlooking the darkened grounds.

"You didn't flinch," he said.

"Neither did you."

He studied her profile. "This life will harden you."

"Or it will break me," she replied. "Either way, I won't disappear quietly."

A slow, dangerous smile curved his mouth. "That's what worries me."

She turned to him. "You can't protect me from everything."

"No," he admitted. "But I can protect you from them."

"And who protects me from you?" she asked softly.

The question lingered between them, unanswered.

Below them, guards moved like shadows, the estate breathing violence and vigilance in equal measure.

And somewhere deep within Alessandro De Luca, a truth took root-one he could no longer deny.

Protection had a cost.

And Elena was becoming far too valuable to lose.