Chapter 5 BOUND BY CHAINS

Alessia Rizzo's POV

The moment I opened my eyes, I felt the suffocating weight of my reality pressing down on me. The massive bed, the lavish curtains, the gilded mirror reflecting my pale, disheveled image-none of it belonged to me. It was all part of this twisted cage Donatello had thrown me into.

The knowledge that Leonardo had sold me to settle his debts burned through my veins like poison. My own stepbrother, the man who shared my family name, had traded me away like an object. The betrayal wasn't new, but it still stung every time I thought about it.

I paced the length of my room, wringing my hands as frustration and fear fought for dominance. How could I escape this nightmare? Every plan I thought of fell apart before it even began. The guards, the locks, the unspoken but very real threats that hung in the air like smoke-all of it made freedom feel like a distant dream.

Later that morning, a sharp knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. Before I could answer, the door swung open, and Marco walked in.

"Good morning, Alessia," he said, his tone polite but impersonal. "Donatello wants to see you in his office."

I stared at him, my heart sinking. I didn't want to see Donatello, didn't want to face the cold, calculating man who held my life in his hands. But I knew I didn't have a choice. Refusing him would only make things worse.

I followed Marco through the labyrinth of hallways, my mind racing with anxiety. The mansion was beautiful in a way that felt oppressive. The marble floors, the intricate chandeliers, the priceless artwork on the walls-it all seemed designed to remind me of Donatello's power, his wealth, and my insignificance.

When we reached Donatello's office, Marco opened the door and gestured for me to enter. I hesitated for a moment before stepping inside.

Donatello sat behind an imposing desk, his sharp suit and cold gaze making him look like a king on his throne. The sunlight streaming through the large windows behind him cast long shadows across the room, making the space feel even more foreboding.

"Sit," he commanded, his voice calm but firm.

I wanted to defy him, to stand my ground, but I knew better. I sat down in the chair across from him, keeping my back straight and my chin up. I refused to let him see my fear.

Donatello leaned back in his chair, studying me like a predator sizing up its prey. "Do you know why you're here, Alessia?" he asked.

I clenched my fists in my lap, my anger bubbling to the surface. "Because my stepbrother sold me to you," I said bitterly.

His lips curled into a faint smile, one that didn't reach his eyes. "That's part of it," he said. "But there's more to it than that."

I frowned, my confusion outweighing my anger for a moment. "What do you mean?"

He stood and walked around the desk, his movements slow and deliberate. When he stopped in front of me, he leaned down slightly, his piercing eyes locking onto mine.

"You're here because you're valuable to me," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "More valuable than you could possibly understand."

His words sent a shiver down my spine. "Valuable how?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He straightened and turned away, walking over to the window. He stood there for a moment, staring out at the sprawling estate below.

"Your family has secrets, Alessia," he said finally. "Secrets that you don't even know about. And those secrets make you the perfect pawn in my game."

I felt my breath catch in my throat. Secrets? What secrets? My family wasn't perfect, but I couldn't imagine what he was talking about.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, shaking my head.

He turned to face me, his expression cold and unreadable. "You will," he said. "In time."

The rest of the day passed in a haze of confusion and fear. Donatello's words echoed in my mind, filling me with questions I didn't want to ask. What did he mean about my family's secrets? What game was he playing, and what role was I supposed to play in it?

By the time night fell, I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant sound made me jump. I felt like a prisoner waiting for her sentence to be carried out.

The next morning, I decided I couldn't stay cooped up in my room any longer. I needed answers, needed to understand what Donatello wanted from me.

I left my room and wandered the halls, hoping to find someone who could give me information. But the servants avoided me, their eyes downcast as they went about their tasks.

Eventually, I found myself in the library, a massive room filled with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and heavy wooden furniture. I ran my fingers along the spines of the books, feeling a small sense of comfort in their presence.

"Impressive, isn't it?"

I spun around to see Marco standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.

"What do you want?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

He smirked and stepped into the room. "I could ask you the same thing," he said. "You've been wandering around like a lost little lamb."

I glared at him, my frustration boiling over. "Why am I here, Marco?" I demanded. "What does Donatello want with me?"

Marco's smirk faded, and his expression turned serious. "You're here because Donatello wants you here," he said simply. "That's all you need to know for now."

I shook my head, refusing to accept his answer. "That's not good enough. I deserve to know the truth."

Marco sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, Alessia, you're better off not asking too many questions," he said. "Donatello doesn't like it when people try to challenge him."

"I'm not trying to challenge him," I said, my voice trembling with frustration. "I just want to understand what's happening to me."

Marco studied me for a moment before nodding. "Fair enough," he said. "But if you really want answers, you'll have to get them from Donatello himself. I can't help you."

That night, I found myself standing outside Donatello's office, my heart pounding in my chest. I didn't want to face him again, but I couldn't let this go.

I knocked on the door, and his voice called out from inside. "Come in."

I opened the door and stepped inside, my hands trembling slightly.

Donatello looked up from the papers on his desk, his expression unreadable. "Alessia," he said, his voice calm. "What brings you here?"

"I want answers," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Answers to what?"

"To why I'm here," I said. "To what you want from me."

He leaned back in his chair, studying me with those piercing eyes. "I've already told you, Alessia," he said. "You're valuable to me. That's all you need to know for now."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "That's not good enough. I deserve to know the truth."

Donatello stood and walked around the desk, stopping in front of me. He reached out and gently lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"The truth is, Alessia, you don't have a choice," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You belong to me now. And you will do as I say."

His words sent a chill down my spine, and I felt the last shred of hope I had slipping away. As he released me and turned back to his desk, I realized that I was truly trapped, bound by chains I couldn't see but felt in every fiber of my being.

What scared me most wasn't Donatello's power or his plans-it was the growing fear that I might never escape.