Chapter 5 5

Valeria barely had a moment to process her situation before Alessandro reached for the buttons of his jacket, slipping it off with slow, deliberate movements. He tossed it onto the back of a leather chair, his emerald-green eyes never leaving hers.

She took an unconscious step back, but the moment she did, his smirk deepened.

"Scared, tesoro?" he asked, his voice smooth as silk, yet laced with something darker.

Valeria lifted her chin, forcing her expression into a mask of cold indifference. "Of you? Hardly."

His eyes flickered with amusement. "Good."

Then, before she could react, he closed the distance between them.

Her breath hitched as his fingers brushed against her chin, tilting her face upward. His touch was deceptively gentle, a stark contrast to the raw intensity in his gaze.

"You think I'm going to hurt you?" he murmured, his voice low. "That I'd force you?"

Valeria swallowed hard, refusing to look away.

"Men like you don't ask," she shot back. "They take."

Something in his expression shifted. His grip tightened-not painful, but firm, unyielding.

"You're right," he said, his lips curving. "I do take what's mine. But not like that, cara mia."

He leaned in, his breath warm against her skin. "When I take you, you'll beg me for it."

Heat flushed through her body, anger and something far more dangerous coiling in her stomach.

"You're disgusting," she snapped.

Alessandro only chuckled. "And yet, you're still here."

Valeria shoved at his chest, but he barely moved.

"You kidnapped me, you psychopath."

His fingers traced along her jaw, sending an unwilling shiver down her spine. "No, tesoro. I claimed you."

She slapped his hand away, fire burning in her veins. "I'm not your property, Moretti. I don't belong to you. I don't belong to anyone."

Alessandro studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he did something unexpected.

He stepped back.

Valeria's heart pounded as she watched him loosen his tie, unbuttoning the top of his crisp white shirt.

"You're right," he said. "You don't belong to anyone."

Relief fluttered in her chest for a fraction of a second.

Then-

"But you will."

Her stomach twisted.

Alessandro turned away, rolling up his sleeves as he strode toward the bar in the corner of the room. He poured himself a drink, the ice clinking against the glass.

"You're going to stay here," he said, as if it were a simple fact, as if her protests were meaningless. "You'll have everything you need-comfort, security, freedom within these walls." He turned back to her, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "But make no mistake, tesoro-you will have my child under my roof. And you will carry my name."

Valeria's nails dug into her palms.

"And if I refuse?" she challenged.

Alessandro took a slow sip of his drink, his gaze never wavering.

"Then I'll make sure you don't have a choice."

A shiver ran through her, but she refused to let him see it.

"You can't keep me here forever," she hissed.

Alessandro smirked, setting his glass down on the bar. "No, but I can make sure you never want to leave."

Valeria's heart pounded.

He was playing a dangerous game.

And worse?

She wasn't sure she knew how to win.

The next morning, Valeria awoke to the sound of knocking.

Sharp. Insistent.

She groaned, rolling over, but before she could ignore it, the door swung open.

A woman stepped inside-tall, elegant, with sharp features and an air of authority.

"Good morning, Miss Romano," she said. "Mr. Moretti instructed me to ensure you're comfortable. Breakfast is ready."

Valeria narrowed her eyes. "I'm not hungry."

The woman-who looked like she belonged in some high-class European estate-merely arched a brow.

"That wasn't a request."

Valeria clenched her jaw, but before she could protest, the woman turned on her heel.

"Get dressed," she said over her shoulder. "Mr. Moretti is waiting."

Then, she was gone.

Valeria exhaled sharply, gripping the sheets beneath her.

She should have expected this.

Alessandro wasn't the kind of man to let her sit and sulk. He was pulling her into his world, weaving her into his web, and she had no choice but to play along until she found a way out.

With a frustrated sigh, she threw off the covers and padded to the closet.

She didn't know who had stocked it, but the selection was vast-designer pieces, soft fabrics, all in colors that complimented her olive skin.

She grabbed a simple black dress, something fitted but not too revealing, and slipped it on.

A few minutes later, she found herself in the grand dining room.

And there he was.

Alessandro sat at the head of the long, polished table, sipping his coffee, looking every bit the ruthless king he was.

"Good morning, tesoro," he said smoothly, gesturing to the chair beside him. "Sit."

Valeria's lips pressed into a thin line, but she forced herself forward.

The food in front of her was extravagant-fresh fruit, warm pastries, eggs cooked to perfection. But she had no appetite.

"You didn't sleep well," Alessandro observed, setting down his cup.

She met his gaze with a glare. "You expected me to sleep soundly after being kidnapped?"

He chuckled, unfazed. "I expected you to adjust."

Valeria exhaled sharply, pushing her plate away. "I don't know what game you're playing, but I'm not a pawn."

Alessandro leaned in, his voice dark and soft. "No, tesoro. You're the queen."

A shiver ran through her, and she hated the way his words made her stomach tighten.

"I want out, Alessandro," she said, her voice firm.

He studied her for a long moment, then finally leaned back in his chair, as if considering.

"Fine."

Valeria blinked. "Fine?"

"If you truly want to leave, I won't stop you," he said casually.

She narrowed her eyes. "What's the catch?"

Alessandro smirked, standing to his full height, towering over her as he braced his hands against the table.

"The moment you step out of those gates, you give up everything," he said, his voice like velvet over steel. "You leave with nothing. No money. No safety. No protection. And most importantly-"

His gaze locked onto hers, dark and unreadable.

"You never see our child again."

A cold wave crashed over her.

"You wouldn't," she whispered, her throat tightening.

Alessandro's expression didn't waver. "I will."

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.

Then, he straightened, adjusting his cuffs.

"Decide quickly, tesoro," he murmured. "Because once you're out, you're out."

Valeria's heart pounded.

She had wanted an escape.

But not like this.

Not at the cost of everything.

Alessandro Moretti had just made his move.

And now, it was her turn.

Valeria's world narrowed to the sound of her own breathing. The weight of Alessandro's ultimatum pressed against her chest like a vice, suffocating, inescapable.

She could walk away.

But if she did, she would lose her child before they were even born.

Her fingers curled into fists against the pristine white tablecloth, her nails digging into the fabric. She was used to playing the game, to finding ways to manipulate situations in her favor. She had always been a survivor.

But this?

This was a game she hadn't prepared for.

Alessandro stood there, watching her with an unreadable expression, the light from the grand chandelier casting sharp shadows across his face. He was composed, patient, knowing full well that he had backed her into a corner.

Valeria swallowed down the lump in her throat. She couldn't let him win.

"You think you have me trapped," she said, her voice steadier than she felt.

Alessandro tilted his head, amusement flickering in his green eyes. "I know I do."

Her stomach twisted.

He wasn't wrong.

But she refused to let him see the fear creeping into her bones.

Instead, she straightened, forcing herself to meet his gaze with the same cold calculation he was showing her.

"You want me here?" she asked, voice softer now, almost dangerous.

Alessandro's lips curved slightly. "I need you here."

A cruel smirk ghosted across her lips. "Then you need me more than I need you."

Something flashed in his eyes, something dark and unreadable.

But it was gone before she could decipher it.

Alessandro stepped around the table, closing the space between them in slow, measured steps.

Valeria refused to move, refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flinch.

When he was close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off his body, he leaned in, his fingers brushing against her jaw in a way that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.

"You misunderstand something, tesoro," he murmured. "I don't need anything. I want. And what I want-" His lips grazed the shell of her ear, making her breath hitch. "-I take."

Her pulse pounded in her throat.

She wanted to shove him away, wanted to claw at the smug confidence radiating from him, but she knew that would only amuse him.

So instead, she forced a slow, defiant smile.

"And yet," she whispered, "you're still asking me to stay."

Alessandro stilled.

For a split second, something in his expression shifted, something almost... intrigued.

Then, he chuckled-a deep, velvety sound that sent a slow trickle of heat down her spine.

"Very well," he mused, stepping back as if indulging her. "We'll play it your way, for now."

Valeria didn't let her relief show.

Because she knew better.

She might have won this round.

But Alessandro Moretti never truly lost.

And the real game was only just beginning.

-

The following days blurred into a strange, surreal existence.

Alessandro hadn't locked her in a room, hadn't forced her into submission like some monster out of a nightmare.

Instead, he did something worse.

He made her comfortable.

A wardrobe filled with the finest clothes awaited her. A personal chef prepared extravagant meals, even when she refused to eat. The estate, with its sprawling halls and lush gardens, became her gilded cage.

But it was still a cage.

And Alessandro?

He was everywhere.

Casual, composed, always watching her with that knowing smirk, as if he were merely waiting for her to break.

He didn't force her to speak.

Didn't demand anything from her.

He simply existed in her space, in her life, embedding himself into her reality like an inescapable shadow.

It was infuriating.

And yet-

It was working.

Because no matter how much she tried to ignore him, no matter how much she told herself that she hated him...

She couldn't deny that he was in her head.

And worse?

He knew it.

-

One evening, after a long day of pacing the estate, searching for nonexistent escape routes, Valeria found herself in the grand library.

The room smelled of leather and aged paper, the warm glow of the chandelier casting long, golden shadows across the dark wood.

She traced her fingers along the spines of the books, her thoughts tangled and heavy.

She hated this place.

Hated him.

Hated how her own body betrayed her, reacting to his nearness, to his voice, to the way he looked at her like he already owned her.

A familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Planning your escape, tesoro?"

Valeria turned to find Alessandro leaning against the doorway, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his sleeves rolled up.

Relaxed.

Unbothered.

As if he knew she wasn't going anywhere.

She scowled. "Maybe I just like books."

Alessandro smirked, stepping inside. "Somehow, I doubt that."

She crossed her arms, trying to ignore the way her pulse quickened as he neared. "What do you want, Moretti?"

His smirk deepened. "What I always want."

Her breath caught.

But before she could snap at him, he reached for a book on the shelf, flipping it open with practiced ease.

"Since you're so interested in books," he mused, "why don't I read to you?"

Valeria narrowed her eyes. "I'd rather die."

Alessandro chuckled. "A dramatic choice, but suit yourself."

He leaned against the bookshelf, lazily flipping through the pages.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then-

"Have you thought about our child?" he asked, his tone casual, but the weight behind the words was anything but.

Valeria stiffened.

She had thought about them.

More than she wanted to admit.

But she wasn't about to let Alessandro see that.

"What does it matter?" she said instead. "You've already decided everything, haven't you?"

Alessandro closed the book, setting it aside.

Then, he reached for her chin, tilting it up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

"I want to know if you've accepted it," he murmured. "Accepted us."

A sharp, bitter laugh escaped her.

"Us?" she repeated. "There is no us, Moretti."

Alessandro studied her for a long moment.

Then, he smiled.

Slow. Sinister.

"We'll see about that."

And just like that, he turned, walking away as if he hadn't just left her entire world teetering on the edge of something dangerous.

Valeria's heart pounded.

Because deep down, she knew-

She was running out of time.

And if she didn't find a way to escape soon...

She might never want to.