Chapter 4

Marcus’s kiss was a breath of fresh air, a tender reminder that not all was lost in this twisted world I had found myself trapped in. His lips were soft, a sharp contrast to the roughness I had grown accustomed to. For a moment, I allowed myself to melt into the warmth he offered, forgetting the chains that had held me for so long. But even as I kissed him back, a sense of unease curled in the pit of my stomach.

Marcus pulled away slowly, his eyes searching mine for something—reassurance, perhaps? He seemed to find it, for he smiled, a small, genuine smile that I hadn’t seen from him before. “We’ll find a way out of this,” he promised his voice steady and sure. “I won’t let Lorenzo hurt you again.”

I wanted to believe him, wanted to cling to the hope that he could be the savior I so desperately needed. But a nagging doubt lingered in the back of my mind. Lorenzo’s hold on him had been absolute. Could Marcus truly break free from the man who had shaped him, who had twisted his life into this dark path? And if he could, what would that mean for me?

Days passed, and our secret meetings became a lifeline. Marcus brought me small comforts, yes, but more than that, he brought me hope. He spoke of plans, whispered ideas of escape that seemed almost too good to be true. But with each passing day, the nagging doubt in my mind grew louder. Lorenzo was a man of power, a man who controlled everyone around him, including Marcus. Could we really outsmart him?

One night, as Marcus and I huddled together on the terrace, the stars shimmering above us, I finally voiced my fears. “What if he finds out?” I whispered, my voice trembling. “What if Lorenzo knows?”

Marcus’s expression darkened the softness in his eyes hardening into something else—something that frightened me. “He won’t,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’ve made sure of it.”

But his tone didn’t reassure me. In fact, it made my unease grow. I pulled away from him slightly, searching his face for any sign of the man I had come to care for. But all I saw was a mask, one that reminded me all too much of Lorenzo.

“Marcus…” I started, but before I could say more, the door to the terrace creaked open.

My heart leaped into my throat as I turned to see who it was. For a moment, I feared the worst—that Lorenzo had returned that he had discovered our secret. But it wasn’t Lorenzo who stood there. It was a woman.

She was tall, elegant, with dark hair that cascaded over her shoulders and eyes that seemed to see straight through me. She looked at Marcus, her lips curving into a knowing smile.

“Marcus,” she purred her voice as smooth as silk. “I see you’ve been busy.”

Marcus stiffened beside me, his hand instinctively reaching for mine as if to protect me. “What are you doing here, Serena?” he asked, his voice laced with tension.

Serena—so that was her name. I watched as she took a step closer, her gaze flickering to me briefly before settling back on Marcus. “You didn’t think you could keep this little secret from me, did you?” she said, her tone almost teasing. “Lorenzo will be so disappointed when he finds out.”

I felt the blood drain from my face at her words. Who was this woman? And how did she know about Lorenzo?

Marcus’s grip on my hand tightened, but his voice remained steady. “Serena, you don’t have to do this.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Oh, but I do,” she replied. “Lorenzo trusts me, Marcus. More than he ever trusted you.”

The implication in her words sent a chill down my spine. If she was telling the truth, then Lorenzo had known all along. And he had sent her to deal with us.

“I won’t let you hurt her,” Marcus said, his voice low and dangerous.

Serena laughed a sound that was far from comforting. “Oh, Marcus,” she sighed. “I’m not here to hurt anyone. Not yet, anyway.”

Her eyes turned to me, and for a moment, I felt as though I was being sized up, evaluated. Whatever she saw seemed to satisfy her, for she turned back to Marcus with a nod.

“You’ve grown soft,” she remarked, almost as if it was a disappointment. “Lorenzo would be so disappointed.”

Marcus didn’t respond, but I could feel the tension radiating from him. This woman, Serena, had a hold on him that I didn’t understand, and it terrified me.

Before I could process what was happening, Serena reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, sleek device. She pressed a button, and the screen lit up, displaying a live feed of a darkened room. My blood ran cold as I recognized it.

It was my room—the one I had been locked in for weeks.

“I suggest you think carefully about your next move, Marcus,” Serena said, her voice suddenly icy. “Lorenzo doesn’t like disobedience. And he doesn’t like sharing.”

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving us in stunned silence. The door clicked shut behind her, but the weight of her words lingered in the air.

Marcus finally let go of my hand, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. “This complicates things,” he muttered under his breath.

I didn’t know what to say. The hope I had felt moments before had evaporated, replaced by a sickening dread. Lorenzo was coming back. And when he did, there would be hell to pay.

But as I looked at Marcus, I realized that I wasn’t the only one caught in this twisted game. He was trapped too—caught between his loyalty to Lorenzo and whatever feelings he had for me. And now, with Serena in the picture, the stakes were higher than ever.

I wanted to trust Marcus, to believe that he could get us out of this. But the look in his eyes told me that he was just as lost as I was.

As we sat there in the growing darkness, a single thought echoed in my mind.

We were running out of time.