Chapter 4 LUCA'S PROTECTION

All I hear is the hefty thud when the door locks behind me. The music bounces about in my head, giving me a weird, oppressive cold. My breath is shallow, and my feet feel like they're stuck to the marble floor underneath me. Now, there is no way out.

Like a shadow turned into flesh, Luca's wide shoulders block the escape as he stands at the door. Every motion I make is followed by his penetrating, dark eyes.

His voice is firm and quiet as he replies, "You're safe here." I should feel calmed by his words, but they make me feel worse. Something about his tone seems too definitive and domineering.

Secure?

I struggle with the knot in my throat as I swallow. The house seems excessively large and chilly. But the longer I stay, the more oppressive it feels.

I push past him, fighting the tension in the air with every stride I take. The escape still makes my heart race, but now I'm bothered by something else. the sensation that I've fallen into yet another trap in spite of the assurances of safety.

Luca's footsteps reverberate in the quiet as he follows me into the large entryway. There is nothing more for him to say. His very presence speaks volumes.

I look at him, and I can feel his eyes pressing down on me. He is providing control as well as protection. The way he observes me, the silence that envelops us, and the way his body fills the space between us without moving all give me that feeling.

With an almost commanding tone, he reiterates, "You'll stay here." "You refuse to go."

I nod, but I'm not sure if that's because I have no other option or because I'm too scared to disagree.

Though it might as well be a prison, the door behind me feels like a wall separating me from the world I left. Which is worse, I'm not sure.

Is this defense? Is this cage just another one?

I attempt to read Luca as I look at him. I'm trying to determine whether I've entered a different form of hell or whether I'm safe here.

It felt oppressive in the mansion. Everything feels too large and overwhelming, including every nook and cranny, piece of furniture, and air whisper. I feel as though I'm living in another reality, one where survival is not a concern.

As I move through the corridors, Luca's eyes follow me, never straying from my body. The suffocating hush lingers between us.

When I arrived, I anticipated feeling relieved. However, I don't.

I'm not sure what I was anticipating, but it might have been solace or comfort. Rather, I feel as though I've entered a new form of conflict.

At first, he doesn't say much, but he's always there, watching whenever I look up. Taking note.

I am unable to discern whether his gaze is one of control or concern.

"Remember that no one can harm you as long as you remain here," he says in a hushed voice. You're secure. His next remarks are rougher and more possessive as he stops, his jaw tensing. But you must remain with me. You are unable to depart. Not without my consent.

I get chills from the way he says it.

Before I can stop myself, I say, "I don't want to be a prisoner."

Something icy and menacing flickers across Luca's face as his eyes become darker.

He responds, "You're not a prisoner," but there's a finality to the statement that makes me wonder if I'm really let to leave.

I swallow the uneasiness rising in my chest and nod. I must maintain my distance. I must maintain my sanity and safety.

However, I already sense the walls around me. This protection's cost is already becoming evident.

I'm starting to question whether the price is excessive.

The days blend into one another in a haze of tense dialogue and quiet. Luca always keeps an eye on me.

A peculiar tug exists between us. At first, it's subtle a look here, a long pause there. However, it exists. His eyes are always on me when I look up.

It's something, but I'm not sure if it's wanted or worn. Additionally, it simultaneously burns and makes my skin crawl.

It is overwhelming to have him in the house. At times, I feel as though I'm traversing a maze that he created, where each step takes me farther into a realm from which I'm unsure of how to get out.

However, I see something else I can't quite put my finger on-when I meet his eyes. Unquestionably magnetic, yet risky.

Despite my fear, I find myself pulled to him.

His profile is illuminated by the streaming flames as he sits by the fireplace today. The chill that appears to remain between us contrasts with the room's warmth.

I try not to notice that my heart is beating more quickly as I pass him.

I touch his hand as I go by.

The electricity is instantaneous, but the touch is brief. My throat tightens every breath. I stare down at my hand, not sure if I should draw away or hold on.

He flexes his fingers as though resisting the impulse to grip me, but he resists.

"What is this?" My voice is no more than a whisper as I wonder.

Luca doesn't respond, but I can feel his intense, possessive gaze burning into me.

I should back off. I should stay away.

However, I don't.

Instead, I find myself standing there, torn between terror and something more terrible.

With every day that goes by, Luca's behavior becomes increasingly possessive. I initially assumed it was merely a protective reaction to my weakness. But suddenly things are different.

He is always there, observing, whenever I attempt to move or make a choice.

He is constantly present.

He's across the room watching me, his eyes never leaving me as I reach for my phone.

He tells me, in a quiet, almost calming voice, "You don't need anyone else," but there's more to it than that. A darker one.

I should feel reassured by the words, but they don't.

Under his eyes, I feel dependent and helpless like a child. Every day, this mansion's walls seem more like a cage.

With a heavy voice with an unidentified substance, Luca declares, "I won't let anyone take you from me, Isabella." He moves in closer, encroaching on my personal space. "This is where you belong."

His words squeeze the air out of my lungs like chains that wrap around my chest.

I'm having trouble breathing.

I can't push him away, even when I want to.

He's too much. His power was too oppressive.

Is this defense? Or ownership?

I'm startled out of the silence that has descended upon the house by the unexpected knock on the door.

The silence is nothing new to me. The silence.

However, this isn't quiet. It's a warning.

The package thuds dully on the floor when I open the door. Before I ever touch it, the air is infused with the smell of something rotten.

I can tell what's inside without opening it.

Nevertheless, I do.

From the wrappings, I can see the head of a severed animal staring back at me with lifeless, soulless eyes. A twisted, evil message.

"Bring her back, or the next one is yours," is the straightforward message behind it.

As I gaze at it, my blood becomes icy.

Giovanni's caution is obvious. He is unstoppable.

My jaw is clinched, and my fingers are shaking as I pick up the message.

Keeping Isabella here was never the only goal of her safety. The goal is to keep her away from him.

And I'll make sure that nobody takes her away from me, least of all him.