ELEANOR "You hadn’t even started yet," he finally said, his voice sharp. "I came to watch how you were planning to make my meal, but it seems you were just standing here wasting time."I flinched, the sting in my finger now forgotten in the face of his presence. "I’m sorry," I said quickly. "I wasn’t sure what to make for you since you didn’t like the last meal I prepared. And then... I cut myself while dicing the tomatoes. I’ve been trying to work through the pain."He looked at my hand, unimpressed. "Move aside," he ordered. "I’ll show you how to cook actual food."I blinked in surprise. Him? Cook? I nearly laughed, but I held it in, forcing myself to look apologetic instead. This was going to be interesting. I didn’t think Armando, of all people, knew how to cook anything. It would be a disaster, and frankly, it would be a little satisfying to see him mess up in the kitchen."Bring a stool," he added, his tone full of arrogance. "You’ll watch closely. If you’re going to be my per
ELEANOR Armando scooped some of the pasta onto his plate, then filled mine as well. The aroma hit me immediately—rich and savory, making my stomach rumble. I hadn't eaten a proper meal in what felt like forever, and this—this looked too good to be real.He glanced at me. "Take your plate to the dining room and wait for me there," he ordered. "And don’t even think about taking a bite until I’m seated."I blinked, taken aback by his tone, but I nodded. "I wasn’t going to," I muttered, picking up my plate. As I turned to leave, I paused, thinking I’d at least try to be polite since he did the cooking. "Do you want me to take yours as well?"He shot me a look that could’ve frozen fire—a look that said more than words could. Did he really think I’d poison him or something? A wave of irritation rolled through me, but I swallowed it down. Why did I even bother?"Fine," I mumbled under my breath and headed for the dining room, trying to ignore the sting of his distrust.The table was alread
ELEANOR The entire living room was filled with soft, echoing melodies as Armando turned on the music. Something smooth, gentle, but somehow suffocating too. I didn’t want to be here. Not in this situation, not in his arms, not anywhere near him. It felt like everything was slipping out of my control—even the littlest of things. My life wasn’t my own anymore—every decision was being made for me. Everyone else had a say except me.I glanced around the living room, noticing the space. It was just the two of us in this massive mansion. Armando’s men were outside, probably stationed like statues around the compound while here on the inside was quiet, except for the music which made everything else louder. The silence between us, the tension in the air—it all seemed amplified by the melody.Armando stepped closer, and before I knew it, his arms were around me. I froze, every part of me going still. He looked down at me, his eyes piercing mine, locking me in place. His grip was firm, like
ELEANORIt all happened so fast. One moment, I was lost in Armando's grip, drowning in whatever this twisted attraction was, and the next, I snapped out of it—like ice-cold water had been poured on my face."What the hell am I doing?" I muttered under my breath, suddenly disgusted by the situation. My skin crawled just thinking about how close I had come to completely losing myself.I pushed him away hard, shoving him back as far as I could. My hands shook, but I tried to keep my voice steady."I... I need to go," I said quickly, not caring how abrupt I sounded. "This is getting out of hand. Goodnight, Mr. Armando." The words felt sharp and dismissive on my tongue. I didn't wait for a response—I didn't care what he thought. I just turned and headed straight for the stairs, my heart racing with every step.But before I could make it, Armando's hand grabbed mine—tight and harsh till all of my body froze. The grip was unrelenting, and when I turned around, there it was—the smile of a
ELEANOR Armando yelled through the door, his voice booming and full of rage."Open the damn door, Eleanor! How dare you? You've crossed the line, you stupid bitch!" His words were laced with groans of pain. I could tell I had hurt him bad.My heart raced. I pressed my back against the door, my mind spinning. "Oh God, what have I done?" I asked to obviously no one in particular, staring at my trembling hands, still feeling the impact of that punch. For a moment, everything was quiet. Then I heard him again, this time more composed, more dangerous."If you don't open this door right now, I swear, I'll make you suffer worse than I've already planned!" His voice was low and controlled, but dripping with menace. "Open it now, Eleanor. I'm giving you one last chance."I didn't move—I just couldn't. My hand hovered over the lock, but something stopped me. Fear, maybe. Or the realization that opening that door meant facing him again.I blinked away the tears welling up in my eyes. How had
ELEANOR By the fourth day, I was barely holding on. My body felt like it was shutting down, I hadn’t had food or water in days, and it was getting harder to even breathe. My arms felt too heavy to lift, my legs too weak to stand. My throat was so dry it burned, and my tongue felt like sandpaper. Every time I blinked, the room spun around me.I tried to stay strong, to hold out, but my strength had left me a long time ago.I lay on the cold floor, staring at the door, knowing it was pointless. Armando wasn’t coming. No one was. He’d locked me in here to rot, and if I didn’t do something, I really might die.Desperate, I managed to push myself up onto my knees. My arms shook as I used what little energy I had left to bang on the door, weak and barely audible. I tried to yell, but it came out more like a croak. My voice was gone."Help... please..." I whispered, knowing no one would hear me. But I had to try. I had to keep trying.I hit the door again, but it was no use. My body gave o
ELEANOR Enzo came back with a tray of food while I was still lying on the bed, my thoughts swirling in every direction. I heard his footsteps before I turned to see him standing at the edge of the bed.“Here, try to eat something,” he said, setting the tray down beside me. “You need to regain your strength. After that, maybe you can tell me what happened. Why you were locked in there.”I glanced at the food. It smelled good, but I couldn’t help but feel hesitant. I stared at the plate, my stomach growling, but my mind was still on high alert. I didn’t trust him—not completely. Not yet. He might not have Armando’s cold demeanor, but I still didn’t know what to make of him.Enzo seemed to catch onto my hesitation. He sighed, and I could tell he was a little frustrated, but to his credit, he didn’t snap.“Look, I get it,” he said, sitting down at the foot of the bed, still holding the tray. “You don’t trust me. But I’m not here to hurt you, Eleanor. If I wanted to, I wouldn’t have just
ELEANOR I took a deep breath as I stepped out of the bathroom, feeling refreshed but still a bit hesitant. My thoughts were all over the place, trying to piece together how I was now in Armando’s house with his cousin downstairs waiting for me.Reluctantly, I made my way down the stairs. From where I stood, I could already see Enzo adjusting the massive sofas, trying to push them into a different arrangement. His back was turned to me, and I could see he was fiddling with the TV remote, probably trying to get it to work. The sight of him, busying himself with something so mundane, was almost surreal in this house where everything felt so tense all the time.“Hi,” I said softly as I reached the bottom of the stairs.He turned around, slightly out of breath. "Hey!" He smiled warmly at me, wiping his hands on his jeans. "You look... much better now," he added, a teasing glint in his eyes. It was the kind of light-heartedness I hadn’t felt in a long time, and despite myself, I smiled—ju
ELEANOR“You’re lucky I’m not the kind of man who doesn’t ask for consent,” Armando continued, his tone low but cutting. “Or I’d have had you right here and now without a second thought.”My heart skipped, and my pulse spiked at the subtle threat laced in his voice. I clenched my fists at my sides, forcing myself to breathe. I wouldn’t let him see how his words rattled me, how much they cut straight to the core of my fear.I swallowed hard as he lifted my chin. “You’d end up in jail.“ I shot back, my voice sharper than I felt inside. “And honestly… that doesn’t sound so bad for someone like you.” I added, letting spite creep into my tone.For a second, there was silence. Then Armando let out a low, dangerous laugh—a sound that sent chills down my spine. He tilted his head, his smirk sharp and mocking.“Well,” he said, dragging the word out, “if you want me to go to jail so badly, I might as well use you as my free pass.”He then moved his arm suddenly, bringing it close to my chest in
ELEANORAs I stepped further—still clutching the tray in my hands, the only light in the room was the dim glow of the skyline seeping through the large glass window, and the faint orange ember of Armando’s cigarette.I hesitated for a second after I managed to find the light switch—wondering if turning on the lights would push him over the edge, but I flicked the switch anyway.The room lit up instantly, revealing the disarray I’d expected. Empty glasses cluttered the side table and an ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts sat beside them. Armando was on a large rounded chair by the window, staring out at the city as if he was trying to count every building in sight. He didn’t even flinch when the lights came on, not a single movement.His face was rigid and blank from where I stood and the way his jaw set and his hand held the cigarette so tightly sent a clear message; he wasn’t in the mood for company.When his voice finally broke the silence, it was cold and threatening.“Who th
ELEANORArmando had been acting strange for the past few days and I couldn’t help but notice it. It had been three days now since he took me to the hospital and ever since then he hadn’t left the mansion, not even to step outside the front door into the compound. It was really so strange for someone like him—who always moved around with purpose—to suddenly become so stationary.The mansion was unbearably quiet and it wasn’t the peaceful kind of silence either. This silence was suffocating, heavy, and stretched across every corner of the house like a thick, invisible fog.Yesterday I had accidentally dropped a spoon while I was in the kitchen and the clattering sound that came from it echoed so loudly throughout the mansion—making the stillness even more pronounced—to the extent that it startled me as though I’d disturbed some fragile balance. That was how quiet everything had become.I had always wanted space—some peace and quiet—away from Armando, yet now that I had it, I wasn’t as r
ELEANORThe gentle hum of the limo filled the silence as we drove out of the hospital's compound. I leaned back against the plush seat—the outside world blurring into nothingness—as I stared outside the window, feeling hollow as though a piece of me had just been left behind.What made it worse was the glimpse of that nurse. I was almost certain she was the one but I couldn’t approach her because Matteo just had to be there like a shadow trailing me everywhere.The doctor’s words began to replay—like some sort of whisper—in my head. She seemed to be a kind woman—middle-aged with sharp glasses perched on her nose—and her demeanor was assuring as she’d handed me a prescription list, speaking in a tone that made it sound like she genuinely cared.“You’ll need to take these as directed,” she had said in a tone that was both soft and firm at the same time. “Three times a day after meals. Don’t skip a dose. And also try to get good rest as much as possible.”Then she’d given me a small, enc
ELEANORThe receptionist waved over a male nurse—gesturing toward where we had sat—and he approached quickly, a polite but professional expression on his face. “Right this way, sir,” he said, his voice calm and steady.Armando stood—adjusting his coat with a deliberate motion—and then he glanced at me. His look wasn’t harsh, but it carried a silent command. It was clear he expected me to walk ahead of him.I stood slowly, feeling the weight of the awkwardness I’d been carrying since we arrived. Matteo—ever silent and watchful—followed closely behind as we began to walk. The nurse led the way—his strides steady and purposeful—and I found myself matching his pace, though my gaze kept drifting.The further we moved away from the reception area, the more relieved I felt. The burning stares and muffled whispers of the queue had left an imprint on me, but at least now I could breathe without the judgment of strangers pressing down on me. Armando had a way of making every public moment feel
ELEANORI glanced at Armando cautiously—hoping to catch some clue in his expression—but his eyes were fixed outside his own window, his posture as rigid and composed as always.It just didn’t make sense. Well, sure I wasn't feeling too strong—my body ached, and the fever hadn’t let up since the rainstorm—but this was Armando Luca. He wasn’t the kind of man who cared about whether I was healthy or not. The only thing he cared about was his control, his power, and making sure I knew my place.The car slowed as the chauffeur guided us toward the hospital’s entrance, weaving through the compound to find a parking spot. Armando had brought me all the way here across the city—putting me through the stress of getting all dressed up and everything—just to visit a hospital.But why?“Why are we here?” I asked as I still couldn’t help myself, my voice barely above a whisper. It cracked slightly, but I pushed through, forcing myself to meet his gaze even though I already knew it was a risk.Arma
ELEANORArmando’s words kept playing over and over in my head as I hurriedly rummaged through my wardrobe. The tone he used left no room for argument, and I didn’t need anyone to tell me that if I didn’t act quickly, his temper would explode. The massive mansion—which sometimes felt like a labyrinth—was suddenly suffocating once again, its walls closing in as the weight of the previous evening’s events pressed down on me. My mind flashed to the blood, the screams, the gunshots—all too much that I could barely think straight.I pulled out a sleeveless white gown—simple but neat—and slipped it on. I didn’t have time to fuss over accessories or the perfect look, especially because Armando wasn’t exactly the type to wait and I didn’t want to test his patience today. I quickly applied a light layer of makeup—enough to mask my tired eyes and pale complexion—and glanced at myself in the mirror. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.Taking a deep breath, I made my way downstairs. Each s
ELEANORI couldn't seem to find any sleep because each time I closed my eyes, the images came rushing back—sharp and unforgiving—like shards of glass cutting through my mind.I sat up on the edge of my bed staring at the shadows dancing across the wall. Sleep wasn't just far, it felt impossible. My body felt too heavy, my mind too restless, and I couldn't even lie down properly all night.After Armando had gone upstairs last night, I forced myself to mop the living room floor just like he'd asked, even though my hands wouldn't stop trembling. The cold seeped into my bones, and my clothes stuck to my skin as I worked, but I still pushed through. When I finally dragged myself upstairs, my room was exactly as I'd left it—cold and silent.Don Salvatore's words haunted me. His threats still hung over me like a storm cloud even though I was now miles away from him—wherever he was.Still, I couldn't dwell on it now. If Armando sensed even the slightest shift in my behavior, he'd know somethi
ARMANDO The ride back to the mansion was silent, but my head wasn’t. I couldn’t shake the image of Enzo’s face—cold and lifeless—in that bag. It played on a loop in my mind, every detail—the stiffness of his features, the unnatural stillness—etching deeper with each passing second. It wasn’t just grief that gripped me. It was anger—burning, unrelenting anger.I sat in the back seat, staring out at the rain-dotted windows with my jaw clenched so tightly that it ached a bit. The thirst for revenge was clawing at me—demanding I act, but I couldn’t afford to be reckless just yet. The police sniffing around my operations was something I just couldn’t afford at the moment.When the limo pulled into the driveway, Matteo jumped out even before the chauffeur had fully parked. He opened the door for me—holding an umbrella in one hand. “It’s starting to pour boss. Let me—”I waved him off and stepped out into the rain, ignoring the drizzle that quickly turned into a steady downpour. The cold wa