Chapter 2 The Innocent Stranger

The world came back to Elena Caruso in slow fragments. The smell of antiseptic. Soft linen sheets. Dim lighting.

She blinked, her lashes heavy. The ceiling above her was carved stone, lit by a chandelier. Not a hospital.

Where was she?

She tried to sit up, but a sharp pain lanced through her shoulder. She gasped.

"Careful."

The voice was deep, smooth, with a cold edge. Her eyes snapped to the figure in the chair across the room.

He was stunning. Dark hair, sculpted face, unreadable eyes that seemed to burn and freeze at once. He sat with perfect posture, one leg crossed, his hand resting on the arm of a velvet chair like a king.

"Who... are you?" she whispered.

"Alessandro Moretti."

Elena didn't know the name. Not truly. But she could feel it. Power. Danger. Violence.

"You were in an accident," he said. "A blast. You were the only survivor."

"I don't remember... much."

"You will."

She shivered, but not from cold. There was something in his gaze that unsettled her. He wasn't cruel. But he wasn't kind either.

"Why am I here?"

"Because I saved you. And because I don't like loose ends."

Elena swallowed. Her voice was barely a whisper. "Are you going to hurt me?"

A long pause.

"No," he said finally. "Unless you lie to me."

Elena looked away, trying to collect her thoughts. Who was this man? Why did she feel drawn to him, despite everything?

"Rest," he said, rising. "We'll talk more tomorrow."

And then he was gone, leaving behind the scent of leather and smoke.

Elena lay back against the pillows, her heart racing. She didn't know what world she had fallen into.

But something told her she would never escape it the same woman she was before.