_Amelie’s POV_I stirred at the sound of my door creaking open.My body tensed before my mind fully woke up. Someone was in my room.It had taken me so long to fall asleep and when I finally did, someone decided to sneak into my room. My body didn’t hurt as bad as it used to, so I was able to move without much pain.I sucked in a breath, my fingers inching toward the lamp beside my bed.If I can grab it before they get too close, I’d be able to defend myself.Hopefully, I will be able to knock the person out before anything happens.The moment my fingers wrapped around the lamb, a voice cut through the dark.“Don’t.”I froze, unable to believe it. Matteo.What was he doing to her? Especially so late at night?The thought of getting raped by him crossed my mind and I panicked. A part of me wanted to believe that Matteo wasn't going to do that, but I didn't know what to think.Even in the darkness, I could sense him—his presence filled the room, thick with something I couldn’t place.
_Amelie’s POV_I couldn’t look away.Even though I wanted to. Everyone thought my every being begged for me to peel my eyes away from his body and look elsewhere. My eyes were fixed on his body.The scars were horrific. They twisted across Matteo’s body, ugly, raw, permanent.Nothing was going to fix scars that looked like these. I wouldn't even wish this kind of thing on my worst enemy.And I knew exactly how they got there.I had caused them.My actions had.A lump formed in my throat as memories came rushing back. The smoke, the heat, the way the flames had swallowed everything in their path. The way I had stood there, watching.It wasn't like I had a choice. Father didn't give me an option to refuse. I clenched my jaw. No. I hadn’t meant for this to happen. Not like this.Matteo’s eyes darkened. “Say something.”I swallowed hard. “I…”I couldn’t.Because no excuse would be enough. I couldn't think of anything that would make them pardon what I had done. And I didn’t think Luca
_Amelie’s POV_I couldn’t sleep after Matteo left my room. Each time I closed my eyes, I was filled with the image of the scars on his skin. It had been burnt into my mind, the ugly twisted skin that I had caused.The door slammed open once again that night and I jolted, eyes moving to the door. Which could it be? It definitely wasn't Matteo, was it? He wouldn't come back here for anything. Our conversation left me shaken and I was too shaken to have another one tonight.I barely had time to react before Luca stepped in, his movements unhurried, calculated. Luca?Behind him, Nico lingered in the shadows, silent as ever. Don't these men ever sleep? First, it was Matteo banging into my room half drunk, and now Luca and Nico casually waltzing in.I knew the next day was going to be hell for me, but I had expected them to let me sleep. I wanted to voice out my displeasure, but I didn’t want my face on Luca’s shoes once more and so I kept my mouth shut.I was supposed to be a hosta
_Amelie’s POV_Something cold spread through me.Matteo—hotheaded, reckless, brash—I could understand. His anger was raw, something I could face head-on.But Luca? Luca was in control. Luca was patient.And patience was worse.Way way worse. Matteo didn't think things through before he did anything, so his actions wouldn't be as painful as when Luca did.My breathing felt too loud in the silence that followed. I braced myself for more pain, for another blow, for something—anything.But Luca doesn’t move.Neither does Nico. None of them does anything other than stare at me.They just let me kneel.Let the seconds drag.They let my thoughts turn against me, let the anticipation strangle me more than their hands ever could.I didn't know what would happen next, what they had planned. And I waited.I dug my nails into my palms, forcing myself to stay still. I won’t break. I won’t—“This is how it’s going to be now,” Luca murmured, crouching down in front of me. His hand curled under my
Amelie’s POVI didn’t move from the floor.Because they hadn't asked me to move, I wasn't given permission to push up from where I was.Not even when the door shut behind them.I stayed in the same position, waiting for some reason.Not even when the silence stretched on, pressing against my ribs, suffocating.I should have felt relief.I didn’t.Because I knew.This wasn’t over.I couldn't feel relief when Luca could walk into this room and any moment and punish me. Luca’s patience was a promise, a threat wrapped in silk, but Matteo? Matteo was different. Hot-blooded. Impulsive. He wouldn’t wait for his revenge—he’d take it the moment he wanted to.And he did.I don't know for how long I stayed awake because before I knew it the sun had gone up once again, seeping into my room. And when the door swung open again, Matteo was there.A wicked smirk played on his lips, but his eyes burned with something darker. Something dangerous.I don't know if he remembered our conversation from la
Amelie’s POVI don't know how long I was expected to do this. How long I was meant to sit right next to them ehiketgey did whatever they wanted.I wanted to move out from the bed but Matteo’s fibgetsclampeddosm on my thighs, keeping me in place.I held my breath as he took another slow sip from the glass, his lips barely grazing the rim. He had no reason to be sipping wine while he had another woman with him, but I could guess he only wanted to torture me.His eyes never left mine, and the smirk on his face only deepened when I quickly lowered my gaze, my fingers tightening around the glass to hide their tremble.He was enjoying this.The woman shifted against him, the silk hanging down her shoulder, Clinging to her curves as she pressed herself closer. Her fingers trailed down his chest, stopping at the open buttons of his shirt before she dipped her head to kiss along the scars peeking out.I swallowed hard.I couldn't explain how this affected me. Matteo let out a satisfied hum,
_Amelie’s POV_I stormed into my room, my breath coming out in uneven gasps. My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I paced, my mind a mess of frustration and something far worse—something I didn’t want to name.I didn't understand why I was affected this way.Heat coiled low in my stomach, an unbearable ache that refused to be ignored. I was furious. Furious at Matteo. Furious at myself. Furious at the way my body betrayed me.I hated this man so much and yet I got turned on by him? I was affected by the sight of him touching another woman.I couldn't believe it. Why had I stayed? Why had I watched it?I should have looked away. Should have left the room the moment his hands had disappeared under that woman’s dress. But I hadn’t. And now I was suffering the consequences.I hated the way the image replayed itself in my head. Hated how each time I closed my eyes, the image was burned into the back of my mind. The look on her face, her moans, how flushed her skin was. I swallow
_Amelie’s POV_I didn't hear him coming, I thought I would have been done by the time someone decided to come look for me. But I was wrong. So fucking wrong.Matteo's eyes raked over my body, his lips pulling to a smirk.“Well well… what do we have here?” he taunted, brow coming up. “Such a slut, touching yourself so early in the morning.” His taunts went on and on. Making me feel ashamed and embarrassed.I scrambled to pull the sheets over myself, my face burning with humiliation. But before I could, Matteo moved.I hadn't seen him coming.In the blink of an eye, he was on me, gripping my wrist and yanking my hand away. My breath hitched as his fingers curled around mine—still slick, still trembling. “Oh no… there is no need for you to stop just because of me.”He could feel just how wet I was and the thought made my face burn.A shiver ran down my spine at the way he held my wrist effortlessly, his grip firm, unyielding.“Go on Amelie… touch yourself.” he urged, eyes burning thr
Amelie’s POVThe cameras were everywhere.I felt them before I saw them—tiny red lights blinking like electronic veins stitched into the walls, silent and watchful. The glassy eye in the corner of the hallway followed every step I took, and I could almost hear Santiago whispering through it. One wrong move, little girl. I dare you.It had been three days since I woke up in this gilded prison—back under my father’s roof, under his roof but never his protection. Surveillance had replaced silence. Guards stood like statues outside my door. My every movement was reported, tracked, catalogued. I wasn’t a daughter here.I was a variable. A problem to be solved or erased.Even when I breathed, it felt like too much noise.At dinner, I sat across from Dante DaVinci, my cousin, the family's golden vulture, smiling like the devil’s intern. He’d always been beautiful in that cruel, heartless way. Clean lines. Cold smirk. He was the kind of man that looked like he belonged in a courtroom or a fun
_Amelie’s POV_My eyes peeled open and the first thing that came to my notice was that the bed was cold.Too cold.It bit into my back like ice, the sheets stiff and unfamiliar against my skin. My limbs ached as if they’d been dragged through gravel. My head throbbed. Each breath I took felt like it was pulled through a cracked rib. The air smelled like—Cigars.Leather.Cologne.My heart clenched. No, no, no—Not this place.I forced my eyes open. The ceiling above me was ornate—ivory moldings and golden inlays etched in patterns I used to trace with my fingers as a little girl. I was home.My childhood room was gone. This was one of the guest rooms. Sterile. Controlled. A room for visitors… or prisoners.I turned my head too fast.A shockwave of pain burst behind my eyes. I whimpered, gripping the sheets. My arms—bruised. My wrists—red. Like I’d fought back. Did I fight back?Then it hit me.Matteo. The wine. The bitter sting. His voice.“Because you’re going home.”I shot up, but m
_Amelie’s POV_The next few days had been quiet.I didn't know what the brothers were planning. I didn't even leave my room for anything. Food got delivered to me, and everything I needed was brought to my doorstep.And so when the knock came at my door, I was surprised. I wasn’t expecting anyone.Not this late. Not after the days I’ve been having.But nothing about this place ever followed a schedule—except for how often they liked to ruin me.Knocking was so pointless when they could just walk in if they wanted to, not like it would be the first time. But I opened the door anyway.Matteo stood on the other side, leaning against the frame like he hadn’t just threatened to gut me in the interrogation room a few days ago. He held something in his hand—a glass. Red liquid. Wine. His favorite weapon.My eyes flicked from the glass to his face.I didn't know why he finally decided to come to me, but I wasn't certain if I wanted to know. “Celebrating?” I asked, voice dry.My eyes held
_Third person POV_The door shut with a clap, the three brothers staring on even though Amelie had gone out of sight.Luca remained seated at the head of the table, unmoving, the candlelight flickering against his impassive face. He didn’t know what to think about what had just happened, didn’t know what to say.Nico leaned back in his chair, eyes half-lidded but focused, burning holes into the space Amelie had left behind. Only Matteo reacted—his smirk cracked, a low sound escaping his throat before he threw his wine glass across the room.It shattered red streaking across the marble floor like spilled blood.He thought she had the nerves, and audacity to do what she had done. He had thought of her as mad, but he didn’t think she would be this mad.“That bitch,” Matteo growled, pacing a tight circle behind his chair. “She just walked out. After all that. After everything—she stripped in front of us like it meant nothing.”How could she even do that? It was like at that moment she h
:Amelie’s POVThe dress arrived in silence.I had woken up to see something that most definitely wasn’t there when I slept.No knock. No footsteps. Just a black box waiting on my bed like it had always been there. I stared at it for a long moment, half-expecting it to disappear. Like maybe it was some hallucination conjured by my exhaustion and this damned house.But it didn’t vanish.A second passed and then another. Then it finally clicked that whoever kept it there obviously wanted me to open it. Pushing the bedsheets tangled around my legs away, I crawled over to the eve of the bed where it lay.My heart thumped as I stretched my hand, reaching for the lid.The lid lifted easily, like it wanted to be opened.Inside was silk the color of spilled blood. Deep crimson, smooth like sin. Expensive. Dramatic. It pooled in the box like it knew it would cling to every curve I hated them for noticing.A dress. They had sent a dress. The dresses given time by this brothers made me loath
_Amelia_ The morning after felt like wading through thick mud. Every one of my muscles ached but admidst the exhaustion, I was going to carry out what I had set out to do today.After everything they've done to me, they were nearly a hundred percent sure I would cower and shrink but they were wrong. If anything, what I've been put through here only makes me want to defy and prove them wrong. I dressed in the simplest thing I could find, a black slip dress that cling to my bruised skin. It wasn't about allure; it was about ownership. This was my body, scarred but unbroken, and I had no plans of hiding it. I walked into the dining room just as the maids were placing the plates and cutleries down, the triplets were at the table, each doing their own thing. I took a deep breath and approached with confidence. Matteo whistled as I approached while Luca’s gaze was fixed on me as if assessing and scrutinizing. On the other hand, Nico remained impassive, his eyes follo
_Amelie’s POV_I sat in my room as I listened for any form of sound. The mansion was quiet. Too quiet.After what happened in the library with Matteo—the knife, the taunting, the way he handed it back to me like an offering—I hadn’t been able to sleep.How could I?My heart still pounded every time I replayed his words. “You’re finally becoming something interesting.” I didn’t know if it was a compliment or a threat. With him, it could’ve been both.They had brought me here as a form of revenge towards my dad. But what exactly they had planned? I had no idea.Some part of me knew they were doing all that because I had betrayed them, some other part expected them to understand that I didn't have a choice. I didn’t eat dinner that night. I didn’t want to see them. I didn’t want to feel their eyes on me—Luca’s cold calculation, Nico’s unreadable silence, Matteo’s smirk that always saw more than I wanted him to.Because all they would talk about would be me tied up in Nico’s bed. But j
_Amelie’s POV_I didn’t sleep.Not after everything that had happened.Not after Nico left me tied up, sweating, shaking, begging for a release that never came. Not after the maid’s quiet gasp when she found me. Not even after Matteo’s mocking little whistle or the cold, silent look in Luca’s eyes when they all stood over me like I was something rotting on display.I hated the looks on their faces when they all saw me. I hated how weak I seemed at that moment.But I had survived.Even though it didn’t feel like it.Even after the cuffs were removed and my robe was tightened, my wrists burned. My skin still tingled with that phantom fire. My shame stuck to me like sweat I couldn’t scrub off.I’d taken three showers since then. None of them worked.Now I stood in front of the mirror, my eyes bloodshot, cheeks hollow, the faint outline of Luca’s fingerprints still etched into my thighs. I stared at my reflection and hated what I saw.I looked like someone who had given up.I slammed the
Amelie’s POVI should’ve known better.Should’ve known Luca wasn’t done until he broke me down—until I was sobbing and stripped and choking on every last shred of my dignity.I hadn’t expected this from him, Matteo. Yes. But him? I thought he was the rational one. But even he didn’t expect the door to creak open when it did, someone stepping into the room.My heart stopped.Nico stood there. Silent. Still.His eyes went between me on my knees and Luca’s form. I didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to feel. Slowly, I felt the embarrassment seeping slowly. I froze beneath Luca’s grip, heat flooding my cheeks—not the good kind. The kind that crawls up your spine and makes your skin crawl. Luca didn’t move right away, either. He just turned his head slightly, glancing at his brother like it was all a joke.Maybe it was to him, I was merely a clown brought for the sole purpose of entertainment. “What?” Luca said lazily. “Don’t act like you haven’t wanted to do worse.” Luca w