Chapter 5 5

Enzo stood from the desk, moving with the smooth grace of a predator preparing to strike. Sophia watched him closely, her mind racing as he crossed to the door. He opened it without a word and motioned for her to follow.

Reluctantly, she stood, her legs stiff as she walked behind him down the marble hallway. The villa was grand and cold, the silence of the mansion pressing in on her as they moved through it. Each room they passed seemed to hold secrets, the polished surfaces reflecting the opulence of a life she had no desire to join.

They reached a large dining room, the table set for two. The soft glow of candlelight flickered across the tablecloth, and the air smelled faintly of expensive wine and heavy perfume.

"This is where we'll eat," Enzo said, his voice soft but commanding. He gestured for her to sit at one of the chairs, his eyes never leaving her face.

She obeyed, settling into the chair with a deep breath. She needed to appear calm, poised, but inside, her heart was racing. The weight of the situation was suffocating, but she wasn't about to let him see that.

Enzo took his seat across from her, his eyes assessing her with the precision of a surgeon. He didn't speak immediately, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

Finally, he spoke, his voice smooth, his words calculated. "You're not what I expected."

Sophia raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze with cool detachment. "What did you expect?"

He smiled faintly, a glimmer of amusement flashing in his eyes. "I don't know. Perhaps someone who'd fight me more. Or someone who'd beg me to release her brother. But you... you're different."

Sophia's breath caught for a moment, her instincts screaming at her to be careful, to not show weakness. "I'm not here to make friends," she replied coldly. "I'm here because I don't have a choice. You have a hold over me now, Enzo. Don't pretend this is anything more than a transaction."

His smile faded, but there was no anger in his expression. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping gently on the table. "You're right," he said quietly. "This is a transaction. But every transaction has its own price. And the price you'll pay for your brother's life will be more than you think."

Sophia swallowed, her stomach twisting at his words. She was trapped, and every word he spoke reminded her of that fact.

The waiter entered, breaking the tension that had begun to thicken between them. He set down a bottle of wine, pouring them each a glass before silently retreating.

Sophia stared at the glass in front of her, her fingers grazing the rim but not touching the liquid inside. She didn't want to drink it. She didn't want to indulge in this charade. But she knew better than to refuse.

Enzo lifted his glass, his eyes still fixed on her. "To new beginnings," he said softly, a dangerous glint in his eye.

Sophia met his gaze, her own resolve hardening. "To survival," she countered, her voice steady.

He chuckled, the sound low and dark. "Survival, indeed."

They clinked glasses, the crystal ringing in the stillness of the room. The wine tasted rich and heavy, but Sophia barely noticed. Her mind was too consumed with the fact that she had just made a deal with the devil-and now, there was no going back.

As the meal continued, the conversation between them was sparse, and the atmosphere in the room felt strangely suffocating. Enzo's presence was all-encompassing, his attention sharp, as if every word she said and every movement she made was being carefully noted.

She found herself growing increasingly aware of how little she knew about him. His family, his past, the full extent of his power. There were fragments, rumors, whispers in the criminal underworld, but none of them told the whole story.

After the meal, Enzo motioned for her to follow him again. This time, he led her through a series of corridors, his footsteps echoing in the stillness of the house. They stopped in front of a door at the end of the hall, one she hadn't seen on her way in.

"This will be your room," Enzo said, opening the door to reveal a lavish bedroom, a vast bed draped in dark linens and soft, plush carpeting underfoot. The room was just as grand as the rest of the villa-designed for comfort and luxury, but also for control.

Sophia's stomach churned as she stepped inside, her gaze moving across the room, taking in the decadent furnishings and the subtle but unmistakable sense of ownership in every detail. This room wasn't just for sleeping. It was a prison, and she was its unwilling occupant.

"Don't worry," Enzo said, as if reading her thoughts. "You'll have everything you need here. All I ask is that you remain... available. You'll learn the rest as we go along."

Sophia's jaw tightened, but she said nothing. There was nothing she could say that would change the situation.

Enzo turned to leave, pausing at the door. "Get some rest. Tomorrow will be a busy day. We have an event to attend."

She nodded, her mind racing as she stood in the center of the room. The door clicked shut behind him, and she was alone.

Alone with the consequences of her choices, alone with the weight of the role she was about to play.

And in that silence, the darkness of what had begun to unfold settled around her, wrapping her in its cold embrace.