Trapped 2

Leonardo POV:

 I gently brushed a strand of her deep, red hair away, its softness warm beneath my fingertips. I couldn’t help but wonder how much care it took to keep it that way. My gaze softened as I looked at her—unchanged from six years ago. 

How could she forget? Forget that she was the one who had pulled me from the brink of death.

My gaze darkened as I examined a tear marring her skin. It looked fresh, like a brand from a fire. 

"Who did this to you?" I asked, my voice low and cold, surprising even myself with the intensity of my concern.

"Who did this to her Enzo?" I barked at my henchman, a muscle-bound guard I had assigned to keep an eye on her.

"She was stubborn, Don," he replied, his voice trembling slightly under my scrutiny.

The realisation hit me like a bullet—Enzo had laid his hands on her.

In a flash, I was at Enzo’s side, pinning him against the wall with a force that echoed  through the room. “For the second time today, Enzo, you defied my order!” His action ignited something primal within me.

I knew Enzo would be surprised by my rage over a woman, but even I couldn’t grasp the depths of my own feelings. 

I heard her whimper softly as I tightened my grip on Enzo. “Such a weak one,” I muttered under my breath, the words dripping with disdain.

“Why? Does it matter?” I heard her voice, defiant yet fragile, as I finally released Enzo but not without giving him a deadly glare—a silent promise of his impending punishment.

I turned back to her, brow furrowed, my expression a mask of authority. “I mean…” she continued, the bravado returning to her voice, “I’m less valuable now? With a scar, I’m worthless. So, maybe you can just take me back to my house?”

She pouted, the expression a mix of defiance and intelligence, “as if she could barter for her freedom with mere words.”

But I beat her to it.

“You are right.” I replied slowly, taking a deliberate step towards her, eyes narrowing as I watched her expression shift from triumph to uncertainty. 

“Whether you’re useful or not is for me to decide,” I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. I relished the way her smile faded, replaced by a flicker of fear.

“This is my domain. I am the master here, and I make the decisions.” I stepped closer, the space between us crackling with tension. She needed to understand the hierarchy.

“I never asked to be in your goddamned domain,” she shot back, her voice sharp and filled with rage.

“Take me back to my house!” she screamed, the defiance ringing in the air like a challenge.

My lips tightened, fury boiling within me. No one dared to raise their voice against me, let alone defy my orders.

“What is your name?” I asked, my anger barely restrained.

She rolled her eyes, turning away from me, dismissing my authority. 

I slammed my hand on the table, the sound reverberating like a gunshot.

“I ask the questions here, and you answer! Is that understood?”

Tears pooled in her eyes, but she blinked them away, determined not to show weakness. 

“Your name?” I demanded again.

“Kimberly,” she replied quietly, almost defeated.

“Good.” I poured myself a glass of juice, savouring the moment. 

“Please let me go,” she begged, her voice barely a whisper.

I looked at her, my gaze distant, as I took a slow sip. “You can go.”...

“Don?…” I heard Enzo call from behind, concern etched in his features.

“Th… Thank you…” she gasped, turning to leave, hope blooming in her eyes.

“At the expense of your brother.” I finished my statement, the weight of my words hanging in the air.

Kimberly stopped dead in her tracks, the shock evident on her face. “You know my brother?” she asked, her voice tinged with desperation.

Enzo moved closer, showing her footage of her brother, doing rehearsals in lit studio. 

“He has eyes on him,” I told her, satisfaction curling my lips. I watched her demeanour shift, her bravado wilting as reality settled in.

I approached her, bending down to her level, my voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m your master, and you will listen to me.” Each word dripped with authority.

“The moment you mess up, your brother dies.”

As I turned to leave, I saw her sat back, dejected, as if the weight of my word had crushed her spirit.

Just as I reached the door, her voice sliced through the silence.

“My father… Did you even bury him?”

Her words hit me like a punch. “Did you even bury him?” Five simple words, but they tore through me like a storm.

I didn't let it show, as I ignored her question and made my leave.

******

I stood in front of my father, Anger building up inside me. 

“Stop being ungrateful, Leonardo,” my father’s voice rang in my ears, firm yet calculated. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you.”

“Killed her father? How is that for me?” I shot back, anger boiling in my chest.

I clenched my fists, the familiar fire igniting. “You didn’t have to kill him and put her through that!”

My father’s eyes narrowed, his tone shifting to something more dangerous. “You think you know better than me? You think you can protect her on your own? They will come for her, and I hope you are ready.”

“That's for me to worry about! Don’t get involved in this,” I warned, my voice low and threatening.

“The last time I didn’t get involved, your mother died. You think I would make the same mistake?”

My face hardened, the mention of my mother reopening an old wound. We stood there, locked in a silent standoff, the tension thick enough to slice.

His words sank in like knives, my heart pounding. “That was different.”

The threat was subtle, yet I felt its

weight. Without another word, I turned and stormed out, the door slamming behind me, echoing my rage.!