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_To every bride, the day of her wedding was meant to be the happiest day of her life. Filled with joy and any other thing that classifies as ‘happy’. It was meant to be the best thing that has ever happened in her life.But not me. Of course not me. The gods forbid that Amelie DaVinci be happy even though it was for a day.Today would forever be the worst day of my life. And as I sat on the floor with my hands tied behind me and my mouth gagged, I tried to understand what led me here._A few hours ago_“But Papa I don't want to get married,” I complained to my fifty-five years old father, hoping to speak some sense into him.I had heard from the maids that I would be getting married today and I immediately rushed to him to confirm.Imagine that, not hearing from your own father who had set it up but from the maids who were ordered whispering about it in excitement.I had just turned twenty, the last thing I needed was to get married.“Amelie, we have talked about this,”
_Amelie’s POV_I let out a groan as my eyes peeled open, confusion filling me up. My mind was a haze as I tried to remember what had happened, but that was a chore on its own.Everything was a jumbled mess, and each word I tried to say ended up like a sound made by an estranged animal.The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the pounding ache in my head. It felt like a drum was being beaten inside my skull. Or someone was having an orgy in there.And the second thing? I was tied up.My wrists were bound tightly behind me, the coarse rope digging into my skin. I tried to move my arms a bit, but I let out a low hiss in pain.Whoever had tied this was definitely trying to prevent me from setting myself loose.I tried to move my legs but my ankles were similarly restrained, leaving me completely immobilized.Great, I was tied up with ropes meant to hold down Artemis.I peered into the darkness, the dim light hanging over my head preventing me from seeing much. I wasn’t certain if I
Amelie’s POVI still had that day carved into the back of my mind, constantly reminding me of what I had done.The heat from the fire was intense, like it wanted to reach out and swallow me whole. My chest tightened with the thick smoke in the air, but I couldn’t move. I just stood there, frozen, staring at the house that was now completely engulfed in flames.Something I had none. Not that it was a mistake, not that I had slept of with the fire place on, causing a fire.But because I had poured a trail of fuel round the house and set it ablaze.I was that girl.Beside me, my father stood tall, his face cold and expressionless. The orange glow from the fire flickered across his features, but nothing softened that hard look in his eyes.He stared on intently like he was waiting for some sort of movement in the fire, but I knew it was practically impossible.There’s no way they would have gotten out of the fire on time, I knew that much.Father made me make sure of it. After a few minut
This was not what I had in plan when they had said I was going to help them take my father down.I was once again in a situation that made me question the type of luck I had.The room I was currently in was cold and damp, and I think there was moss growing on the walls.I shivered, shifting my attention to something more important. And that was the fact that my wrists were chained to the wall, the metal biting into my skin.Why the actually fuck would they chain me up like an animal? I wanted to scream but I controlled myself, trying not to show weakness,Even though every shift against the cuffs sent fresh pain shooting up my arms.A flickering light above cast uneven shadows across the stone walls, making the place feel even more claustrophobic.My brothers knew what they were doing when they put me in here. Movement in front of me had my head snapping up, my eyes meeting three identical pairs of eyes.Luca, Matteo, and Nico stood in front of me, their faces hard and unreadable.Wha
Amelie’s POVI don’t know how long I stayed this way, the brothers going in and out randomly like they expected me to break the next time they walked in.The cold metal of the cuffs bit into my wrists, the pressure making my hands go numb. My shoulders ached from being held in the same position for too long, but I refused to show weakness. Not in front of them.If I showed even the slightest weakness, they’d use it against me, assuming I was about to break. And I couldn’t let that happen.Luca stood in front of me, his gray eyes sharp, calculating. I always wondered what went on in his head when he stared at someone like that. It seemed as if he could read straight into your soul, but I knew better.Matteo leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his usual smirk tugging at his lips. And Nico… he was watching. Always watching. He never said much—just observed.“I’ll ask one more time,” Luca said, his voice dangerously calm. “Tell us about your father. His allies, his movements.”Like my
_Amelie’s POV_I hadn’t expected to see Nico. In fact, for some reason, I wasn’t expecting to see anybody. It was supposed to be me running right through the door and screaming for freedom.But things don’t always go the way we want, because he stood right in front of me, blank eyes staring straight at me.The look on his face told me I was stupid for even attempting to run away.The knife was still in my grip, the tip just inches from Nico’s throat.But he didn’t flinch. He just watched me, his dark eyes unreadable.How did I know he was the one? They all seemed so identical, how was I able to tell the difference between the three brothers? It was his eyes.Same shade as his brothers, but the emptiness in them told me all I needed to know. Nico took a step closer, pressing the blade deeper into his neck.Just one swipe and he would be choking on his blood, but for some reason that didn’t seem to scare him.“If you want to leave,” he murmured, voice low, “you’ll have to kill me fir
_Amelie’s POV_The silence in my room felt suffocating.I sat curled on the edge of the bed, my wrist still aching from when Nico had twisted it. He hadn’t told them. I knew that much.I had walked back to where I had tried to escape from, waiting for when the brothers decided to come for me.And when someone came later on to inform me about my change of location, I was happy. They hadn’t found out yet, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think I’d gotten away with it.Something about the way Nico smirked at me before disappearing into the mansion told me everything I needed to know. This wasn’t over.And I was right.Because when the door finally swung open, Luca stood there. His eyes blazing with fury.I stiffened instantly, my heart dropping to the pit of my stomach. Standing behind Luca were Matteo and Nico, but they weren’t my problem right now. It was Luca. His presence filled the room before he even took a step inside. He didn’t need to speak. His sharp gray eyes pinned me in pla
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