005

Caterina.

The bastard.

My pulse still raced, an unwelcome reminder of the last few moments in Luca's suffocating presence.

I didn’t want to admit it, but the man had a way of getting to me. The quiet menace in his voice, the unyielding way his eyes pinned me like prey... God... even the way he brushed my hair back, like he owned me.

He didn’t.

I started walking abruptly, my legs shaky beneath me as though my own body betrayed me. The silence in the dining room was heavy though Luca had long since walked away, leaving me to stew in the aftermath of... whatever that was.

"Loathe keeps things interesting," he'd said.

I clenched my fists, willing the rush of heat on my cheeks to vanish.

Focuse, Caterina.

There was no time to wallow in the mess of emotions this man stirred in you.

I needed answers.

Taking a steadying breath, I turned on my heel and strode toward the door. A dark skinned man stood just outside the door like a sentry. His expression would make the statues of gods jealous.

No emotion.

“Am I allowed to walk around?” I asked, lifting my chin as though the slight tremor in my voice wasn’t there.

“You are,” He said curtly. “Within reason.”

“And what does within reason mean?”

“Don’t try to leave.”

The implication was clear. I wasn't truly free to roam, I was being observed. I shoved the thought aside and gave the man a clipped nod before stepping into the hall. The mansion opened up before me... a maze of polished floors, ornate artwork, and gilded edges that screamed excess.

My prison was beautiful. I’d give it that much.

I walked with purpose, my heels echoing sharply as I made my way through unfamiliar corridors. I took in every detail as I moved... memorizing windows, counting locked doors, and noting exits I might be able to use later.

Let Luca think he would be able to keep me caged in.

My surroundings blurred together... oil paintings of stern faced men who were Luca's ancestors, no doubt. Grand staircases, and heavy curtains that kept most of the natural light at bay.

Goodness.

This place was both impressive and suffocating, much like the owner himself.

It didn’t take long before my wandering brought me to the kitchen. The sound of clattering pans and muted voices greeted me.

I pushed open the door.

The staff froze the moment I entered, their chatter and movement coming to a screeching halt. A room full of wary eyes landed on me. Some curious, others downright anxious.

“Don’t stop on my account,” I said dryly, stepping further into the kitchen.

They exchanged glances before awkwardly resuming their tasks. Pots sizzled, knives chopped, and plates were arranged with meticulous precision. The air smelled of herbs and roasted meat... an unfair reminder that I hadn’t finished my breakfast, thanks to my lovely host.

“Who’s in charge here?” I asked loudly, surveying the room.

An older woman stepped forward, wiping her hands on her apron. Her face was stern, her back straight. “I am.”

I studied her... sharp-eyed, capable. “What’s your name?”

“Maria,” she said evenly, not blinking.

“And how long have you worked for Luca?” I kept my tone casual, though I felt every pair of eyes tracking me.

“Many years.”

“That’s vague,” I shot back. “Is he a good employer? Or are you all too terrified to say otherwise?”

The room grew noticeably still again. But Maria’s gaze didn't falter, though she had her lups pressed into a thin line.

"He's fair."

"Fair?" I couldn't help but repeat, adding a little chuckle to show how I didn't believe that one bit. "The man who kidnapped me from my own engagement party? I doubt fair is the word I'd use."

A faint nervous giggle broke through the silence.

My head snapped toward the sound. It came from a younger maid standing near the far counter... a girl who looked no older than eighteen. Her face flushed crimson as she realized I was staring at her.

“You think this is funny?” I demanded, my voice sharp.

“N-no, miss,” the girl stammered, her eyes darting toward Maria for help.

But Maria said nothing.

I narrowed my eyes, crossing the room to stand in front of her. She was a small thing... soft-spoken and jittery, wringing her hands in the folds of her apron. Her pale complexion had gone nearly ghostly.

“What’s your name?”

“Sofia.”

“Do you always giggle when people bring up Luca’s crimes, Sofia?”

She shook her head quickly, her eyes wide and fearful. “I didn’t mean to...”

“You’re nervous.” I tilted my head, studying her. “Why?”

Sofia’s eyes darted to Maria, then back to me. She opened her mouth, closed it again, and looked down at the floor.

Interesting.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “You’re hiding something, aren’t you?”

Sofia’s breath hitched. I watched her shoulders tense, her entire body locked in a stance that screamed fear.

“I think we should have a little talk,” I said, gripping her arm lightly. “Come with me.”

Her head shot up, her expression panicked. “What? No...”

“You heard me,” I cut her off, my voice brooking no argument. I turned to Maria, who was watching the exchange with a disapproving frown. “She’ll be fine.”

Maria didn’t argue. She only watched as I pulled Sofia out of the kitchen and into the hallway, the younger girl’s feet stumbling to keep up with me.

Back in my room, I shut the door behind us with a decisive click. Sofia hovered near the centre of the room, her eyes darting around nervously like a trapped rabbit.

“You can sit,” I told her, gesturing to the edge of the bed.

Sofia obeyed, her hands fisting the material of her apron in her lap. She didn’t look at me.

I folded my arms, standing over her. “Tell me, Sofia. What’s got you so scared?”

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” she stammered.

“Yes, you do,” I said sharply. “You flinched back there. Why? Does Luca terrify you? Are you afraid he’ll punish you for talking to me?”

“No,” she blurted, then winced as though she’d said too much.

I raised an eyebrow. “So it’s not him.”

Sofia looked like she might burst into tears.

“Relax,” I said, softening my tone. I sat on the edge of the bed, facing her. “I’m not going to hurt you. But I need your help.”

She stared at me, confused. “Help?”

“Yes.” I leaned closer, my voice steady but insistent. “I need to get out of here. You’re going to help me do that.”

Her face went pale. “I-I can’t...”

“You can,” I cut her off, fixing her with a pointed look. “And you will.”

She looked down, her hands trembling. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to pretend to be me.”

Her head snapped up. “What?”

“Lie here,” I said, gesturing to the bed. “Pull the blankets up, pretend to sleep. I’ll sneak out. If anyone checks on me, you stay quiet. They won’t look closely.”

Sofia shook her head violently. “They’ll know. They’ll find out, and I’ll be punished...”

“They won’t,” I said sharply, grabbing her hand. She flinched, but I held her gaze. “Listen to me, Sofia. I have to get out of here. Do you understand? I can’t stay here another day. And if you help me… I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “And if they catch me?”

“Then you’ll tell them I forced you,” I said simply, releasing her hand.

Her shoulders slumped, her resolve crumbling under my eyes. After a long, tense silence, she nodded slowly.

“Fine,” she whispered.

I stood and crossed to the door, my heart pounding as I listened for any signs of movement in the hallway. Nothing.

Good.

“Get in,” I told her, motioning to the bed. “And don’t make a sound.”

Sofia hesitated, then obeyed, climbing under the blankets and curling into the pillow. Her small form looked ridiculous in the large bed, but from a distance, it would pass.

I grabbed a dark jacket from the chair, pulling it over my dress. My hands shook slightly as I approached the door. The weight of what I was about to do hit me like a fist, but I shoved the fear aside.

Freedom was waiting.

I cracked the door open, peeking into the hallway. Still empty.

I glanced back at Sofia one last time. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with silent fear.

“Stay quiet,” I said softly. “And don’t move.”

Then I slipped out into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind me.