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 I held my breath as the phone rang, gripping it tighter with each second. When the nurse finally answered, my heart skipped a beat.“Hello?” she said, her tone professional but slightly tired.“Hello,” I replied, my voice shaky. “Am I speaking with Miss Annabelle?”“Yes,” she answered. “Who am I speaking with?”I felt a rush of excitement and relief, almost stumbling over my words. “I’m... I’m a sister to one of the patients under your care.”There was a brief pause on the other end. “I have a lot of patients, dear,” she said. “You’ll need to be more specific. Can you tell me a bit more about which patient you’re referring to?”My heart sank. How could she not remember? I hadn’t thought about how to describe myself or my sister in any other way. I searched my mind, desperate to find something to help her recall. My mind spun with images of that night—running into the hospital, my sister barely able to breathe, the frantic doctors, the nurses rushing around. Then it hit me.
ELEANOR I handed Enzo’s phone back, feeling a mix of relief and unease after the call. He took it from me, but instead of just thanking me or brushing it off, he gave me this look—like he wanted to say something.“That was… well, an emotional moment,” he finally said, a little smile on his face. “Maybe you should let me in on what’s going on?”I tensed up instantly. As much as he had been kind to me, even saving me from being locked in that room, I wasn’t ready for this conversation. My emotions were all over the place, and before I could think, the words flew out of my mouth.“I told you it’s personal!” I snapped, surprising even myself with how sharp my voice sounded. “I appreciate what you did for me, but please, stop trying to dig into my private life, especially when it’s about my family.”He looked at me, still calm. He wasn’t even fazed by my outburst. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said, his tone steady. “I wasn’t trying to pry, just thought I could be… I don’t know, friendly. That’s j
ELEANOR I couldn’t help it—I was too curious about Armando. I needed to know more about who he really was and how he’d become the cold, intimidating figure that he was. Maybe understanding his past would help me understand the man he was now, and maybe, just maybe, I could figure out how to avoid his temper in the future."Tell me a bit more about Armando," I asked, my voice hesitant but steady. "Like, how was he growing up? What was he like as a child?"Enzo raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by my sudden interest. "What’s really got you so eager to learn about Armando?"I paused for a moment, trying to come up with a convincing answer. "I’m just curious," I said, shrugging slightly. "His character… it’s hard to figure out. Knowing more about him, even a little, might help me steer clear of his outbursts, you know? And who knows, maybe I’ll get to see that ‘good side’ of him that you keep talking about."I saw Enzo smirk a little at that. He knew what I was doing, but he didn’t se
ARMANDO The room was quiet, save for the low hum of the TV. My study was always like this—dim lighting, the faint smell of leather, and silence that made it easier to think. I leaned back in my chair, my eyes fixed on the screen. The news anchor’s voice droned on about the recent police crackdowns. Another raid. Another group of men in cuffs.It wasn’t surprising. The authorities had been tightening their grip for months, thinking they could dismantle everything piece by piece. It wouldn’t work. I had been in this game too long to let it. Still, I watched, paying close attention to the details. You never knew when a name, a face, or a location might give you something to act on.My fingers tapped lightly on the armrest. A bad habit, but one I didn’t bother correcting. It helped me focus. The footage shifted to a warehouse raid—men dragged out with their hands behind their backs, flashing lights bouncing off the walls. Sloppy. Someone had slipped up, and now they were paying for it.T
ELEANOR My phone buzzed on the nightstand, jolting me from my thoughts. The screen lit up, and my stomach dropped when I saw the private number. My fingers hesitated for a moment before I grabbed the phone. I already knew what to expect, and that only made my heart pound harder.It was a text. “It’s time. Now or never. Face the consequences if you choose the latter.”I stared at the message, the words blurring as the weight of them hit me. I had been preparing for this moment but now that it was here, I felt paralyzed, my mind racing but coming up empty.I had already decided. I had to do this. There was no way out. Months of torment from Armando had driven me to this point, and Don Salvatore’s threats left no room for hesitation. My sister’s life depended on me going through with this.But there was one massive problem.I didn’t have the poison. I had no idea how to get it, where to find it, or even how to use it if I did. I had spent weeks stuck in limbo, hoping for some kind of so
ELEANORSeveral days had passed since Don Salvatore’s call, but I hadn’t known peace since. My mind was stuck in a constant cycle of worry and my heart heavy with fear. I couldn’t eat because the mere thought of food made my stomach churn and my body began growing weaker—my skin pale and dry. It wasn’t hard to tell that something was wrong with me, but there was no one to confide in—not here.And Armando? Despite the way I looked or sounded, he hadn’t eased up on my duties. I should’ve been a bit relieved that someone was hired to share the workload, but instead, I felt uneasy around her. She seemed off, like she didn’t belong. There was something about the way she carried herself—always watching, always calculating—that put me on edge. From the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew she was trouble.Mabel’s presence didn’t lighten my load. Her role was clear—cook whatever Armando wanted whenever he wanted it. Meanwhile, I was still left with everything else—the cleaning, the mopping, the
ELEANORI scrubbed the last dish, letting the warm water run over my hands until my fingers felt numb. The rhythmic clinking of plates against the sink was the only sound in the kitchen, but my thoughts were far from calm. Armando’s words from earlier echoed in my mind, and then there was Don Salvatore. His threats, my sister’s pale face in that photo—it all coiled around my chest like a vice.I kept scrubbing—pretending the kitchen was my sanctuary—and for a moment it almost worked, but then the door creaked. My body stiffened.I turned slowly—the soapy plate still in my hands—and my eyes fell on the profile of Armando leaned against the doorframe, watching me. His eyes were calm, but there was an edge to his gaze—the kind that always seemed to confuse me.“You’ve been hiding yourself away a lot lately,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “I don’t remember giving you permission to turn into a ghost. Not in my house.”I placed the plate on the drying rack, wiping my hands on a towel
ELEANORI sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the drawer where the phone was hidden. The silence in the mansion pressed down on me like a heavy weight and I hated how quiet it was—how every shift of the wind outside seemed louder than my own heartbeat. I just had this lingering feeling that he was going to call.My hands shook as I waited—each second feeling like an eternity—and then it happened. The phone rang.The sound sliced through the quiet like a knife, and for a moment, I couldn’t move. My heart raced as I reached for the drawer—my fingers fumbling to open it—and when I finally pulled the phone out, my stomach twisted into knots.I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, and answered. “Hello?”The line was silent. Not a sound. Not even the faintest breath on the other end. I swallowed hard, gripping the phone tighter.And then, his voice came—smooth, calm and controlled. “Eleanor.”I didn’t respond right away. My mouth was dry, and my chest felt tight.“Have you been
ELEANOR Armando’s voice shot through the mansion like a whip. “Eleanor!” he bellowed. “Get down here. Now!”I froze mid-pace, my heart hammering in my chest. Did he really just call my name, or was my panic starting to mess with my head? My mind raced, torn between the phone I had just hidden away and the constant paranoia of being found out.Before I could decide, his voice rang out again, louder this time. “Eleanor! I won’t call you again!”The echo bounced off the walls—filling every corner of the house—and for a few seconds, I couldn’t move, my mind spinning with all the worst possibilities. Had he found out i used the phone?My hands trembled as I paced aimlessly for a moment, trying to pull myself together. “Get it together,” I whispered under my breath. “Breathe. Act normal.”I rushed to the drawer, shoved the phone back inside, and slammed it shut. Adjusting my dress in the mirror, I brushed out the wrinkles and ran my fingers through my hair. My reflection stared back at me,
ELEANORThe sunlight peeked through the gap in my curtains and landed directly on my face, pulling me out of sleep. I groaned softly, turning my head to the side, but it was no use. Once the light hit my eyes, there was no going back. I blinked a few times—trying to adjust—and then stared at the ceiling for a moment before dragging myself out of the duvet.As I sat up, I glanced around my room and the mess stared back at me like a taunt. Clothes were scattered on the chair, books—which i usually read as a means of escape—were piled on the nightstand, and a few empty water bottles were sitting on the dresser.It wasn’t that I didn’t care about my space, but ever since I moved into Armando’s mansion, my days had been swallowed by cleaning everything else. His room, his library, the home office, the dining room—anywhere Armando might show up had to be spotless. My room always came last. And every time I planned to clean it, something would come up—some new task Armando would throw my wa
ELEANORAfter Armando left the room, my legs felt weak—trembling from the overwhelming sensations still coursing through me, and my mind was a mess of scattered thoughts.I swallowed hard, taking slow breaths to calm myself, but my body refused to settle. I hated how much control he seemed to have over me. Even now—with him gone, I could still feel him like his presence had somehow soaked into the walls.“Why does he have to be like this?” I muttered under my breath. I tried to focus, to pull myself out of this haze, but every attempt was a failure.Armando was… intense. That was the only way I could describe him. I wanted to hate him for it, but at the same time, I couldn’t deny that when he touched me, it was like nothing else mattered.I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I forced myself to move, heading to the bathroom for a quick shower. The warm water helped a little—washing away the tension clinging to my skin, and by the time I was done, I felt slightly more grounded.
Chapter 76ELEANORArmando's voice came low and sharp from behind me, brushing against my ear."Do you have any idea what you're asking for, Eleanor?" His words were slow and deliberate—each syllable wrapped in a teasing chill. "You know what you're about to get yourself into?"I opened my mouth, but my throat felt dry.I barely managed to whisper, "Maybe. I'm not sure." My voice shook, and I gasped softly when I felt his breath against the side of my neck, warm and unsettling.His hand moved then, his left still firm on my waist while his right slid lower, tracing circles just below my hips. My skin burned under his touch, every nerve alive and screaming. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing so lightly against my neck that it felt like they weren't even there.He chuckled softly, the sound low and dark, sending shivers down my spine."Maybe?" he repeated, his tone mocking but somehow laced with something that made me feel small and exposed. His hand on my waist then tightened sligh