Chapter 5 The Bargain

Chapter 5 –

The knock was soft but firm - enough to make me sit up straight in bed.

The door opened without waiting for my answer.

Matteo stood there, framed by the doorway, dressed head to toe in black. Black shirt, black trousers, black jacket. His presence filled the room even though he didn't step inside.

"Get ready," he said.

My voice was still rough from sleep. "Ready for what?"

He didn't answer right away. His eyes swept over me, like he was checking if I'd argue.

"We're going out," he said finally. "Ten minutes."

Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

The room was quiet again, too quiet.

It wasn't mine - not really. This wasn't my house. It wasn't even my room.

I swung my legs off the bed and crossed to the wardrobe. I don't know what I expected - maybe an empty closet.

But it wasn't empty.

Inside, there were clothes. Neatly hung, perfectly folded. Clothes that weren't mine but... could have been.

I touched one of the shirts with my fingertips. The tags were still on.

And they were my size.

The thought hit me like a punch to the gut.

He knew.

He knew my size, my style, enough to fill this wardrobe with things I could wear.

I didn't know if I wanted to scream or faint.

I picked black jeans and a dark top, something that wouldn't make me stand out. When I checked my reflection in the mirror, my stomach was still twisting.

He planned this.

This wasn't a kidnapping anymore. This was him making space for me in his world - whether I wanted it or not.

When I stepped out, Matteo was waiting by the door downstairs.

He looked me over once - slowly, like he was making sure I was properly dressed - then nodded. "Good."

I wanted to snap at him, tell him I wasn't his doll to be dressed up and paraded around, but my throat wouldn't work.

"Where are we going?" I asked instead.

"A meeting."

"With who?"

He smirked, the kind of smirk that made my stomach knot tighter. "With the man who thinks he can take you from me."

My heart jumped. "Luca."

"Mm." He opened the door for me. "Let's go."

The car was sleek and black, the kind of car you only saw in movies. Matteo opened the door himself, and somehow that felt more like an order than a courtesy.

I slid in, my pulse hammering.

The drive was quiet for a while, the low hum of the engine the only sound.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"This!" I turned to face him. "Dragging me into whatever this is. Making Luca angry. Making everyone angry."

He didn't look at me. "Because no one takes what's mine and walks away untouched."

"I am not yours," I said sharply.

He glanced at me then, calm, dark, unreadable. "You keep saying that."

"And you keep ignoring me."

This time, his lips curved - just slightly. "You'll understand soon."

The car pulled up to a gated estate. Bigger than Matteo's house. Colder. There were men outside, armed, standing like statues as the gates opened for us.

Inside, Matteo led me through long hallways until we stopped in front of a glass door.

"This is where you stay," he said.

I frowned. "What is this?"

"One-way glass." He nodded toward the large wall of glass that separated this room from the next. "You can see out. They can't see in."

"Why put me here?"

"So you can watch. So you understand why I do what I do."

I swallowed hard. "And if I don't want to watch?"

"Then close your eyes," he said simply, before leaving and shutting the door behind him.

I pressed my hands against the glass, my breath fogging it slightly as I stared into the next room.

Matteo was there already, standing at the head of a long table like he owned the world.

Minutes later, Luca walked in.

My heart stopped.

He looked furious - jaw tight, shoulders tense - but his eyes... his eyes were searching, like he expected me to be there.

"You have some nerve," Luca said, his voice low and dangerous.

Matteo didn't sit. Didn't even blink. "You're in my house, Moretti. Choose your words carefully."

"Where is she?"

"Safe," Matteo said. "For now."

"Give her back to me."

"No."

Luca slammed his hands on the table. "You think you can just take what's mine?"

"She was never yours," Matteo said calmly, sitting at last. "But she is under my protection now. You want her back? That's going to cost you."

Luca's voice dropped. "What do you want?"

Matteo smiled slightly, like he'd been waiting for that question. "Stay out of my territory. Stop interfering with my shipments. Keep your family away from my business. Do that, and maybe I'll let her go."

"This isn't a negotiation."

"It is now," Matteo said, his voice like a blade.

Luca stared at him for a long moment, then finally turned and walked out, his men following.

When Matteo came back for me, I couldn't hold it in.

"You're going to get him killed."

He didn't look at me. "That's his problem."

"No!" I grabbed his arm. "I can't let that happen. If leaving with you keeps him alive, then fine. You can have me."

That made him stop. Slowly, he turned to face me, his eyes dark and sharp.

"You'd give yourself up that easily?"

"This isn't about me," I said. "This is about stopping a war."

He stepped closer, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to look at him.

"You think you have that kind of power?" he asked softly.

"Yes."

His mouth curved into something dangerous. "Then you still don't understand me, bella."

The car was silent on the way back - until the attack happened.

A black SUV cut across the road, forcing our driver to brake hard.

"Down," Matteo ordered, shoving me to the floor just as gunfire shattered the windows.

The sound was deafening.

Matteo was out of the car in seconds, gun in hand, returning fire with a terrifying calmness that didn't match the chaos.

"Stay down!" he shouted over the sound of bullets.

The car jerked forward as the driver tried to escape the trap, but the SUV rammed us from behind.

Matteo grabbed me, pulling me out of the car and behind him as we ducked into a nearby alley.

"Stay here," he said, pressing me against the wall.

"Matteo-"

But he was gone, vanishing into the dark.

The gunfire lasted minutes, maybe longer - I couldn't tell. My heart was beating too loud.

When it finally went quiet, Matteo reappeared, blood on his shirt but not his face.

"It's over," he said simply, grabbing my hand.

"Are you hurt?"

"No. They are."

I didn't ask what he meant. I didn't want to know.

He didn't let go of my hand the entire way home.

And for the first time, I wasn't sure if he was holding on to protect me - or to keep me from running.