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 POV_Matteo’s fingers curled inside me, slow and deliberate, dragging pleasure from me at his own pace. My breath hitched as he added another finger, stretching me, teasing me.I was frustrated, he was going too slow. Slower than I wanted him to go. And I hated that. I needed it do badly.“You take me so well,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Just like I knew you would.”Like he had thought about his fingers in me, thought about this scene over and over.Just like me.I clenched around him, my body betraying me once again. He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against my skin as his lips trailed lower.I couldn’t believe I was in this position with Matteo of all people, it seemed like a dream.“You wanted this, didn’t you?” His tongue flicked over my clit, making me jolt. “Wanted me to catch you touching yourself.”Yes. Some part of me had the hope that Matteo was going to walk through the door while I had my legs parted open.And the thought had gotten
Amelie’s POVAt this point, I was so certain about one thing.And that was the fact that I hated Matteo.I hated him so fucking bad.I hated the way he made me feel. The way he touched me, whispered in my ear, and then left me gasping for air—aching, needing, desperate. I hated the fact that my body had betrayed me and I had given into his touch, even after what he had done to me.I didn't know if there was a shift between us after what had happened that day.I was talking about the night he came into my room drunk.The night he had shown me all the scars that had been caused by my actions. But whatever this was, I wasn't certain if I wanted it to happen again or not. What I was certain about was the fact he wouldn't hesitate to use his hands to make me do whatever Luca wanted, and I still hated him for that.And the worst part out of all of this? He knew exactly what he was doing.Matteo knew what he was doing when he pushed into my room, using his fingers to make me cry. He also
_Amelie’s POV_I was so lost in my feelings, letting my body control me that I didn’t even realize that I had made the worst mistake of my life. Nico started at me with the same look in his eyes, completely playing me and deceiving me. I hadn’t even noticed Matteo standing at the door until it was too late. My focus had been on Nico—the warmth of his body, the way his hands had wandered, how easily I had let him.And damn easy I was.Then suddenly a voice cut through the air like a blade, startling me.“Are you going to fuck my younger brother because I didn’t give you what you wanted?”I froze.It couldn’t be. There was no way. My breath caught in my throat, words refusing to form in my head.Slowly, I turned my head, and my stomach twisted at the sight of Matteo leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, a wicked smirk on his face.He had known.Known about Nico and what he had done to me.The amusement in his eyes made my skin crawl, but worse was the look on Nico’s face—his
: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 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