Chapter 2 Chains Of Silk

The mansion loomed like a dark fortress as Elena stepped out of the car, her breath catching in her throat. Sprawling gardens stretched before her, meticulously groomed yet suffocating in their perfection. The grand structure ahead was an architectural masterpiece, but its imposing design felt more like a gilded cage than a home.

Luca stepped out behind her, his presence a cold shadow that made her skin crawl. His tailored suit was as flawless as his composure, and he gestured toward the heavy wooden doors without a word. She hesitated, her instincts screaming at her to run, but where would she go?

"Move," he ordered, his voice low but firm.

Elena squared her shoulders, refusing to let him see her fear, and walked up the steps. The doors opened as if on cue, revealing a grand foyer illuminated by an elaborate crystal chandelier. The marble floors gleamed, and the air smelled faintly of sandalwood and power.

Two men in black suits stood at attention near the entrance, their expressions unreadable. One nodded slightly at Luca, who ignored them and placed a hand on Elena's lower back to steer her forward. She jerked away from his touch, shooting him a glare.

"Don't touch me," she snapped.

His smirk was infuriatingly calm. "You're in my house now. You don't dictate the rules."

"And I'm supposed to just accept that?"

"No," he said, his tone turning colder. "But you will."

Elena's heart pounded as she followed him through the labyrinthine hallways. Her defiance was all she had left, but even that felt fragile in the face of his unshakable authority.

"You can't keep me here," she said, her voice shaking slightly despite her best efforts.

"Watch me."

They stopped in front of a set of double doors. Luca pushed them open, revealing a lavish bedroom that looked more like a five-star hotel suite. The bed was massive, draped in dark silk sheets, and the windows overlooked the moonlit gardens. A sitting area with a fireplace and a large bookshelf completed the space.

"This will be your room," Luca said, stepping aside to let her enter.

"My room?" she asked, crossing her arms. "You think a pretty prison cell makes this better?"

He arched a brow. "Would you prefer the dungeon?"

The words were delivered so smoothly she couldn't tell if he was joking. Either way, the shiver that ran down her spine wasn't reassuring.

"You'll stay here," he continued, ignoring her glare. "You'll eat when I tell you, and you won't leave this house unless I say so. Is that clear?"

Her jaw tightened. "Crystal."

"Good," he said, stepping closer. The air between them grew heavy as his green eyes locked onto hers. "And Elena? Don't mistake my patience for weakness. If you cross me, you'll regret it."

She held his gaze, refusing to look away even as her stomach churned. "If you think you can break me, you're wrong."

The corner of his mouth twitched, as if her defiance amused him. "We'll see."

Without another word, he turned and walked out, the door clicking shut behind him. Elena waited a beat before rushing to the door and trying the handle. Locked.

"Of course," she muttered, slamming her hand against the wood.

She spun around, pacing the room like a caged animal. Her mind raced, alternating between fear and fury. Her father had sold her like a piece of furniture, and now she was at the mercy of a man who clearly thrived on control.

But she wouldn't give in.

Not now. Not ever.

---

The hours stretched endlessly. Exhaustion tugged at her, but she refused to sleep. She sat curled up in the armchair by the window, staring at the moonlit gardens outside. The door was locked, but the windows weren't.

She tested one, sliding it open cautiously. A cool breeze swept in, carrying the scent of night-blooming flowers. The drop to the ground wasn't far, but the guards she'd seen patrolling earlier made her hesitate.

Maybe tomorrow, she thought, biting her lip. She needed more information-how many guards there were, what their routines were like. Acting rashly would get her nowhere.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft click of the door unlocking. She froze, her breath catching as Luca entered, carrying a tray of food.

"I thought you might be hungry," he said, setting the tray down on the table.

"I'm not," she lied, her stomach growling in protest.

His gaze flicked to her, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Suit yourself."

He moved to the bookshelf, scanning the titles as if he had all the time in the world. Elena watched him warily, her pulse quickening.

"Do you read?" he asked, pulling out a leather-bound volume.

"Why do you care?"

He shrugged, flipping through the pages. "I don't. Just making conversation."

"Well, don't."

Luca chuckled, the sound low and rich. "You're a terrible conversationalist, you know that?"

"And you're a terrible kidnapper," she shot back. "Shouldn't you be out... doing mafia things?"

He looked up, his smirk fading. "Don't mistake this for a game, Elena. You're here because your father couldn't pay his debts. If I hadn't stepped in, you'd be in the hands of someone far worse."

Her chest tightened, but she refused to let him see her fear. "And I'm supposed to thank you for that?"

"No," he said simply, his expression hardening. "You're supposed to survive."

The weight of his words hung between them, suffocating and unyielding.

Luca moved to the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. "Eat. You'll need your strength."

"For what?"

His eyes met hers, a glimmer of something unreadable flickering in their depths. "To fight me. Or to escape. Your choice."

The door shut behind him, leaving her alone with the tray of food and her turbulent thoughts.

---

The next day, Elena was jolted awake by the sound of the door unlocking again. She sat up, disoriented, as a woman entered carrying a pile of clothes.

"Good morning," the woman said cheerfully, setting the clothes on the bed. She was in her mid-thirties, with warm brown eyes and a calming presence that contrasted starkly with the tension of the mansion.

"Who are you?" Elena asked, her voice hoarse.

"My name's Rosa. Mr. DeLorenzo asked me to bring these for you."

Elena eyed the clothes suspiciously. "What does he want now?"

Rosa hesitated, then smiled gently. "You have breakfast with him in an hour."

"I'm not hungry."

"That's not up to me," Rosa said, her tone kind but firm.

Elena sighed, running a hand through her hair. She wasn't in the mood to eat-or to deal with Luca-but defiance wouldn't get her anywhere right now.

Rosa helped her into a simple yet elegant dress, and Elena couldn't help but feel like she was being dressed for a performance.

By the time she entered the dining room, her stomach was in knots. Luca sat at the head of the table, sipping coffee as if he hadn't upended her life less than 24 hours ago.

"Good morning," he said, his tone annoyingly pleasant.

"Let's skip the pleasantries," she replied, sitting as far from him as possible.

Luca smirked, cutting into his omelet with precision. "Still fiery, I see."

Elena ignored him, focusing on the food in front of her. She hated how good it smelled, hated how her body betrayed her by craving sustenance.

"Have you thought about what I said?" he asked, his gaze piercing.

"You mean your whole 'you belong to me' speech?" she shot back. "Yeah, I've thought about it. Still not buying it."

Luca chuckled, shaking his head. "You're going to be a handful, aren't you?"

"Only if you underestimate me," she said, meeting his gaze with as much steel as she could muster.

He leaned back in his chair, studying her. "You have no idea what kind of world you've been dragged into, do you?"

"No, and I don't care. I didn't ask to be here."

"But you are," he said, his voice soft but firm. "And whether you like it or not, you're part of this now. The sooner you accept that, the easier it'll be."

Elena clenched her fists under the table. She refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, but her resolve was cracking.

Luca leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You're mine, Elena. The sooner you stop fighting it, the sooner you'll realize that this-us-is inevitable."

Her heart pounded as his words sank in. She hated him, hated the power he held over her, but a small, traitorous part of her couldn't ignore the way her body responded to his presence.

"I'll never be yours," she said, her voice trembling but resolute.

Luca smiled, a dark and knowing curve of his lips. "