:Amelie’s POVLuca’s words echoed in my ears long after the door closed behind them.“It’s Lorenzo.”He didn't need to say anything else before the three of them walked out. If they were going to bring up someone that causes so much tension, they might as well as had the entire conversation with me.Who the hell was Lorenzo? The name meant nothing to me, but the reaction it sparked in all three of them—that meant something.It meant that whoever this person was, he was dangerous.Matteo had gone silent, the amusement gone from his face. Nico, for once, didn’t have a smug remark to throw. And Luca… Luca remained a wall of ice, unreadable as ever.And that told me everything I needed to know.Something was wrong. Very wrong.They left me in the room without another word, like I was nothing but a discarded toy after the game ended. No explanation. No apology. Not that I expected any. The world would come to an end before those three apologized to me.Still, I waited.At first, I told
Amelie’s POVThey didn't wait, a maid led me to another room. Lorenzo would be at his casino by eight tonight and I was expected to be ready for this.How does one get ready to seduce a man?I was expecting more than a physical prep, but I couldn't tell what they had for me.I sat on the edge of the velvet chair in the room, the silence pressing down like a weight on my chest.A job.That was what Luca had said—calm, collected like he hadn’t seen me naked minutes ago like I wasn’t spiraling.They had all seen me naked.I was still reeling from the humiliation, the betrayal, the shame that clung to me like a second skin. What type of stupidity would this be described as? Have your legs wide open for the men who kidnapped you.But beneath all of that, something darker simmered—rage. And maybe, just maybe, a thirst for something I couldn’t yet name.Revenge? Redemption? Or just the desperate need to prove I wasn’t some weak little girl they could toy with.I wasn't quite certain which i
Amelie’s POVWhen the knock came at my door, I was ready.Or at least, I looked like I was.Because deep down I knew I was nowhere close to being ready. They had just thrown this at me and expected me to go along with it.I didn’t even know what this man was like and I was expected to seduce him. . My stomach was a pit of nerves, my mind spiraling through worst-case scenarios. But I kept my face blank, lips painted crimson, eyes sharp with black liner, and something colder—determination.Luca stood outside, dressed in all black, as always. His gaze swept over me like I was merchandise he had ordered and was now inspecting.He wanted to see if I was enough, capable. And I wasn't certain about that either. “Come on,” he said simply, turning around and walking off.No compliment. No reaction. Just instructions.Not like I was expecting any. We weren't going for dinner or anything else. He was leading me to what might be my doom.I followed him down the hallway, heels clicking again
Amelie’s POVThe car ride was silent. Way too silent for me to be comfortable in. But what were the chances I was going to be calm in this situation?I was literally driving to my death. They kept saying I had to play it right, but I didn’t trust that.Luca sat beside me, his expression unreadable, arms crossed over his chest. He hadn’t said a word since we left. Not one warning, not one ounce of reassurance. Just stone.Like he wasn’t going to say anything about throwing me into the pit of flames. Just giving me a bottle of water and expecting me to somehow survive. I kept my eyes forward, my reflection staring back at me from the tinted window. I looked the part—confident, sleek, dangerous—but inside I felt like I was walking a tightrope over a bed of knives.Just one wrong step and I would be falling to a very painful death.I could feel his eyes on me. Watching. Judging.Finally, when we were a block away, his voice broke the silence.“Don’t try to be clever.”I turned to him
Amelie’s POVLorenzo leaned closer to me.Way too close for me to be comfortable with.His cologne hit me first—sharp, spiced, expensive. The kind of scent that lingered long after the man was gone.The Arabian scent screaming money. His fingers brushed my thigh, light but intentional, and I had to fight the instinct to recoil. I didn’t want him to think anything that would give anything away.His eyes locked on mine, calculating.“Tell me something, Amelie,” he murmured, voice smooth like silk over steel. “What brings a girl like you here… alone?”The last word was said as if he actually doubted the fact I was here alone. Not that I gave him any reason to. Don’t flinch. Don’t break.I tilted my head with a coy smile, forcing my body to stay still. “Curiosity.”That was the only thing that made a woman do something. He chuckled, but the sound was empty. “Curiosity gets most people killed.”“Not if you’re careful.”And I was trying to be as careful as I could to not get killed.
_Amelie’s POV_The ride back was suffocating.I had somehow found a way to escape Lorenzo with my head on my neck. I could have sworn that the man had been out for me, whatever it was he had seen on his phone had saved my life. Immediately he stepped out, Nico had ordered me to make my way through the doors. Ignoring the steady eyes of the people following as I walked through. I couldn’t give anything away as my heart thundered in my chest. The fear of Lorenzo suddenly calling out to me scared me more than anything else right now. Not a single word had been spoken since I slid into the backseat beside Luca. Nico sat on my other side, silent. Matteo was in the front, drumming his fingers against his thigh, his jaw tight. The silence wasn’t comforting—it was loud, brutal, sharp enough to cut skin.I was unable to tell why the triplets had decided to stay quiet after something like this had happened. I thought they’d say something. Anything.A “good job,” maybe. Or even a sarcastic
The moment we got back to the mansion, Luca didn’t say a word. None of them did. I made my way to what I had known to be my room, letting the room click shut behind me. My heart drummed in my chest as I leaned against the shut door. Tonight was…Definitely not what I had expected. I let myself think about what had happened, remembering Lorenzo’s grip on my arm and how he almost made me leave with him. I was lucky. At that moment the thought of having him help me escape these brothers had been thrown out the window, my mind screaming warning bells at me.I was about to jump out of a frying pan and dive right into the fire. Whatever Lorenzo saw then, had saved my life. Letting out a breath, I pulled my zipper down, letting the dress pool at my feet. I wasn't certain what I was wearing next. The triplets only provided me with a few worn-out clothes and I had used them up already. I didn't have detergent to wash them out. So I stood in my panties, thinking of what to do next.
_Amelie’s POV_I have never felt as frustrated and disgusted with my own skin as I feel right now. I had done everything I could to take them off.The blood didn’t leave my hands.Not even after I scrubbed them raw under the faucet.Not even after I stood beneath the freezing shower my skin turned numb.It was still there.On my fingers.Under my nails.In my bones.My eyes darted around the room, for something, anything to use. But I found nothing.My hands were stained with the blood of a man who was still breathing. But it felt like I had killed him.Every time I blinked, I saw that man’s face. Broken. Bleeding. Staring at me like he’d seen a ghost. Or maybe just a stupid girl caught in the crossfire of monsters.I almost begged him to tell them what they wanted to know. But the triplets’ stares at me stopped me from doing just that.Because they wanted to see him beg and they wanted to see me break.Tears brimmed my eyes, threatening to fall.But I wasn’t going to cry.Not again
_Amelie’s POV_I watched as Marco’s lifeless body was carried out of the dinning hall, the carpet stained with red.I felt sorry for the man but I did what had to be done. I wasn’t going to let myself get killed off.After the guests left, Santiago dragged me into his office.He didn’t speak at first.He just stood there, looming.Then—without warning—he struck me.The slap snapped my head to the side, my lip splitting open against my teeth.The sharp crack of it echoed in the silence.I didn’t fall.I didn’t cry.I just stood there, tasting blood, my face burning.His chest rose up and down in silent anger, eyes burning into me.“Do you think you’re clever, Amelie?” Santiago said, his voice dangerously low.I straightened slowly, meeting his eyes.There was no warmth there.Only calculation.Only fury, held back by the thinnest thread of control.“I did what you would have done,” I said quietly.Wrong answer.He slammed his hand onto the desk hard enough to rattle the lamp.“You wil
Amelie’s POVI had been waiting patiently for anything. A text from the brothers or something.Then finally, the phone buzzed under my pillow in the dead of night.I jerked awake, heart pounding, hand fumbling for the burner tucked beneath the thin mattress. The screen lit up with a single message.From Nico.It said. “Don’t trust anyone. Not even the staff. Watch the cousin.”That was all the message contained.I stared at it until the words blurred.No explanation. No comfort. Just a warning, sharp and cold like a blade pressed against my throat.It obviously had nothing to say when I would be returning. I couldn’t admit it but I wanted to return. My fingers tightened around the phone.Watch the cousin.Dante.I didn’t need Nico to tell me Dante was dangerous. I could feel it every time he smiled at me like he already knew what size coffin I wore.But the fact that Nico bothered to send a warning at all?That chilled me more than Dante’s smirk ever could.They weren’t here to sav
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