EPISODE 1

LUCA

“So, where’s my money, Morelle?” 

Fear, an old friend arrived, the presence he always created on the faces of men whenever they saw me or caught a glimpse of my image is always exhilarating. It was a feeling I thrived for. The ever present aura that married me now graced the face of the man before me, on his knees with two of my bodyguards guarding up behind him and blocking off the exit.

He gulps frighteningly, struggling to take a breath, his eyes wandered everywhere else but at mine.

“Time’s ticking housemaster.”

“It’s… I… I don’t have it… yet, Mr Moretti.”

My leg crosses over the other and I twirl the glass of scotch on ice that I held at hand, the golden brown liquor dances to the conduct of my fingers over the glass tip.

“Well, I don’t like the sound of that Morelle.”

He shivers. “Please, give me a little more time.” 

“Mmm, I don’t think you’re really in the position to make demands.”

He gulps again, sweat beads over his forehead and leaks down his temple. Then he braves a look at me but they fall at my feet before they had the chance to hold courage.

“You’ve had enough time to prepare for this day. My family’s protection privileges doesn’t come freely. You know that and that is why we’re in this business, isn’t that so?”

“Yes, that is correct, Sir.”

“Then tell me why you’re wasting my precious time?”

“I would like to make up for that…”

“So you have my money then?”

His hands fist at his sides and his jaw muscles moves taut. 

“I-I don’t.”

“Hmm,” The cold liquor burned my throat as it slid down into my mouth. “I don’t like the sound of that either.” Morelle’s eye sockets almost gave up life when they saw the silver tilt of my pistol and I point it to his face.

The air grew thick in silence as though it recognized the next course of action that was about to take place in the room. His fear streamed frozen tears down his face; pitiful but yet an irritating sight and nothing disgust me more than the tears of a cowardly man.

There was no pity in my eyes, no remorse in my soul. I’d come to this orphanage solely for one reason and if I couldn’t have that then someone was going to pay with blood. That person right now shivered with intensity as he cried for his miserable life, offering up a chance to redeem himself.

I’m a man of few words. I simply took what I wanted, when I wanted and what I wanted right now was my god damn money.

“But… I can offer you something worth the value…” His words caught my attention in both curiosity and annoyance because I knew just how vile this man could be. He was a selfish coward whenever he got into trouble.

I withdrew my gun and tilted my head. He seemed to have regained a little courage, he rubbed his hands cautiously as he spoke his next words. “One of my girls…” He says.

“She’s a diligent worker and quite the beauty… I think you’ll find her rather appealing and best of all, she’s a virgin.” He laughs nervously and that was when the most utterly, gut churning disgust filled me. Morelle Reyllis was really a disgusting coward.

In my world, there were gods and there were beast, those ready to devour each other and then there were scums; those who’d do anything to get a black taste of power and by all means necessary. They would drag down anyone they had to just for the sake of their selfish interest.

I was no saint either, I’d done things far worse than these scums.

On the other hand, I recently became the new Don of my father’s empire.

I tilt my gun back to his face, “Why would you think she’d be worth my money?” My voice becomes grave and it puts Morelle in a place of bitter distraught.

His response to my question didn’t come any sooner, my agitation took me off my feet. I stood before him in three strides. His head raised high to watch my towering form and I enjoyed the sight of his quiet sniveling mixed with the fear that shook his very being. His eyes followed my movement as I slowly crouched before him.

The cold tip of my metallic silver pistol gun pressed under his chin and it consumed him; the fear in his eyes cocooned a wormhole that devoured his soul in that instant.

A smirk plays across my lips as his eyes begs me not to pull the trigger. One tug, a measly pull and it’d be over for him.

“Tell me Morelle, of what use would she be to me?”

My gun bobs underneath him, over gulping movement and his mouth falls open, closes then they open again.

“She…” He starts, “She….” but stumbles over his words.

“Can she fight, Morelle?” Another gulp but no response. He opens his mouth to speak but the words didn’t come out.

I tap the gun over his jawline. “Can she kill, Morelle, hmm?”

When he said nothing, I pulled him by the back of his head and he grunts in pain. His body freezes over at the sound of my gun clicking against his temple.

“Has she ever pulled a trigger before? Touched it? Does she know what a gun looks like? Does she know what it’s going to do to your head in the next two minutes?”

His head bobbed incessantly in placement for words frozen over his tongue and his tears stained his face even more.

“Do tell Morelle, I’d really love to know.”

The next thirty seconds was filled with tears and incoherent words that turned out to be agonizing pleas. My soul was incredibly fed up from the pitiful sight of him and honestly, it made me wonder why I hadn’t already laid waste to this pitiful creature in front of me.

“Golden…blond hair.” Mumbled words reached me.

“What?”

“She has golden blond hair. Blue-grey eyes…”

Tugging hard on his head pried his eyes wide open and he released a gasp as though he was breathing air for the first time in a long time.

“Do I look like a fucking joke to you?”

Yet something within me stopped me from pulling the trigger of my gun and releasing the bullets into his brain. His hands raises to hold unto mine, over the place where my grip was almost pulling at his skull.    

“She’ll do anything you want… even, ah!”

“Even what, Morelle? My grip tighten a notch around his hair, drawing his head backwards.

“Please…”

“Where is she?” I ask after a while.

“They’re currently in the living quarters.”  

My eyes meets Enzo’s stoic expression as he stood watch over the door with my other guard. His gaze shifts to mine, a shared moment of silence passes between us then he nods before he’s disappearing behind the door.

I turn my attention back at Morelle’s sniveling form, my grip still planted on his hair. I trace the stumble outline of his jaw with the tip of my gun before nudging him with it and he quivers at the touch.

Five minutes had gone by before the door was swung open and through my peripheral vision I see Enzo’s tall form walk in. He held the door a bit longer to let a shadow waltz in with him before it closes behind him. 

“Found her.” He reports concisely. His hand reaches behind him and swiftly pulls out a girl as though she was a pest he was undeniably trying to get rid of. She nearly stumbles over her feet.

She lets out a soft huff as she tries to regain her composure, ironing her palms over the soft sea blue, sleeveless dress she wore and black ankle boots compliments her outfit and small figure. Her well off average height was comical beside Enzo. The girl sweeps her hair out of her face and over her shoulder as she looks up. 

Blue-grey eyes searched the room and they almost plucked off her sockets when they land on her housemaster, my gun planted onto his temple and my vise grip that pulls his head backwards. Then they trailed up over my arm and her eyes meets mine and sausage out even more, her palms claps over her mouth and she takes two step back. She jerks forward again spinning around in a flinch as she crashed into Enzo.

He caught her gaze with that unchanging stone expression he always wore. A little bird was what she looked like. A scared, little prey, surrounded by predators. She wasn’t going to survive a day in my world. It’ll swallow her up. I watched her, her face ricochets between my face and Morelle’s gunned head.

That familiar expression painted her innocent face as she finally holds my look longer than a second and I feel my face stretch with a smirk. She was a beauty; young and innocent but the fear masking her face was an even more artful paint on her face.

I didn’t know when but I found myself rising from my crouched position and my feet carried me towards her. She backed away at my brooding form and Enzo sidestepped her to avoid being hit by her retreating figure. In a rush her body taps on the door and she falls to the floor.

“Please…” The softness of her voice visited my ears but her fear tampered with her voice and that feeling became a knot. Although her fear was soul filling, it caused another feeling to course through me. It felt strange, warm but exhilaratingly uncomfortable. It was everything I hadn’t familiarized with and it bothered me.

But that was until I saw it, it was almost faded and blended with the powdery tone of her silken skin but the dark edges of her scar gave it out. My hands reached out to touch her face and she closed off herself, backing up against the door as her arm drove up, like they would shield her from me. It didn’t cover up the part of her skin that I meant to touch though.

The dark taint on her creamy skin. She tensed up at as I shadowed her. Her skin was like a marbled surface except for the heat of her skin that invades my fingers. The smoothness was a contrast against my thumb pad as it caressed her scar.

“Who did this?”

I surprised myself with my question and slowly, she pries her eyes open. The bright innocent shades of her eyes captured mine as she lets her shield down and the pad of my thumb drives down her chin and tips her head up. The movement was slow and innocent but I thought up all the sinful things as her lips fell open.

“Um, I….” Her tongue slithers over bottom lip and my eyes followed the movement before they climbed back up her face and arrested her gaze. 

A soft moan like breath escapes through cherry-peach tainted lips. It teased my core and tightened the knot that seems to keep spreading out in my stomach yet I didn’t know whether she did them on purpose or she was just as oblivious as her fiery innocence. I’ve fucked enough women to acquaint with the sound of a purposeful moan but with her, it was different.

This little bird held a board of curiosity over me and I realized that I wanted to fill every space within the boxes of the board that she had created. I found myself wanting her, the sudden urge to claim her, keep her, overwhelmed me. 

“Little bird, what are you called?” It takes a moment for her to respond as I wait, until I hear the soft tone of her serene voice again.

“E-Eli... Eliana.”