Chapter 5 Invisible chains

Alba Ricci

I hate this feeling.

The feeling of being cornered, locked in a cage whose bars I can't yet see, but whose shape I can make out.

Gabriel Moretti stands before me, imposing, imperturbable. His gaze burns with an intensity that nails me to the spot, as if he had already sealed my fate before I even opened my mouth.

- Why is Carlo Ricci looking for you?

His tone is calm, almost indifferent. But I'm no fool. Behind this impassive facade, he's analyzing every beat of my eyelashes, every twitch of my fingers.

I cross my arms, forcing myself to hold his gaze.

- It's none of your business.

Silence. Then a sneer stretches his lips.

- Wrong answer.

He takes a step towards me. Instinctively, I take a step back, but bump into the table behind me. Mistake. His smile widens, like a predator sensing its prey's panic.

- You're in my town, Alba.

His voice is low, threatening.

- And you're under my roof.

He places a hand on the edge of the table, leaning slightly towards me.

- Which means that everything that concerns you... also concerns me.

My heart is pounding against my ribs.

- I'm not yours.

I can see it, that slight twinkle in his eye. A mixture of amusement and challenge.

- You say that a lot.

He straightens up, giving me a semblance of space. But the trap is already closed.

- Why is Carlo looking for you?

His patience is wearing thin.

I could lie. I could make up a story. But Gabriel Moretti is no fool. He's already guessed part of the truth.

So I sigh, cross my arms.

- My father wants me back.

A silence. His gaze becomes more piercing.

- Why now?

I look away.

- I don't know.

I'm lying. I know exactly why. But to tell him is to give him a weapon against me. And I can't afford to be vulnerable to a man like that.

Gabriel watches me for a long moment. Then he simply says:

- All right.

I frown.

- Do you agree?

- Yes.

He moves away, grabs a glass of alcohol from the table and raises it to his lips.

- If your father wants you back, he's got something on his mind. And I don't like people making plans on my territory without my consent.

He puts down his glass, then stares at me again.

- You're going to stay here.

I blink.

- I beg your pardon?

- Here. Under my protection.

A nervous laugh escapes me.

- Out of the question.

Gabriel raises an eyebrow, the shadow of a smile playing on his lips.

- Do you think you have a choice?

His voice is soft, but sharp as a blade.

I stare at him defiantly.

- You can't keep me here by force.

It moves forward, slowly, dangerously, until our faces are only inches away.

- Try to leave, Alba.

A shiver runs through me.

I hate myself for that.

I hate myself for what his gaze awakens in me.

But I hate myself even more for knowing he's right.

Because, deep down, I know I'm already trapped.

And this time, it's not just my father who's threatening to destroy me.

That's the one.

Gabriel Moretti - The rules of the game

I look at her.

She's beautiful when she fights.

His eyes flash, his whole body tense in a defensive posture. But behind this facade of strength, I see fear. Distrust.

And I want to break it.

Not to subdue her. Not at all.

I want her to understand that she can't run away from me.

That she's mine, whether she likes it or not.

I turn away, letting the silence weigh on his shoulders.

- You're not leaving this place.

- What if I try?

I smile slightly.

- Then you'll understand why no one disobeys me.

She's trembling. Not fear. Rage.

She wants to hate me.

But I see the fire in his eyes, the same fire that burns inside me.

She's mine.

She knows it.

She refuses to accept it.

But it will come.

I'll make sure it happens.

Alba

Silence stretches like a sharp blade.

I stare at him, this man who thinks he can dictate my life the way he dictates his wars.

Gabriel Moretti has never known resistance he couldn't crush. He thinks I'll give in, like all the others before me.

But I'm not just anyone.

I clench my fists, standing in the middle of this room that isn't mine. The scent of her perfume still hangs in the air, a mixture that's both bewitching and suffocating. I should be afraid. I should be trembling. But all I feel is a dull, burning anger.

- You can't keep me here.

My voice booms into the room. He doesn't blink.

Gabriel is sitting on a leather armchair, one leg nonchalantly resting on the other, a glass of alcohol in his hand. His calm is a provocation in itself.

- I just proved you wrong.

His tone is quiet, as if he's stating the obvious.

I grit my teeth.

- Just because you lock me up doesn't mean I'm going to obey you.