Leonardo POV:

I gently brushed a strand of her deep, red hair away, its softness warm beneath my fingertips. I couldn’t help but wonder how much care it took to keep it that way. My gaze softened as I looked at her, unchanged from six years ago.

How could she forget? Forget that she was the one who had pulled me from the brink of death.

My gaze darkened as I examined a tear marring her skin. It looked fresh, like a brand from a fire.

"Who did this to you?" I asked, my voice low and cold, surprising even myself with the intensity of my concern.

"Who did this to her Enzo?" I barked at my henchman, a muscle-bound guard I had assigned to keep an eye on her.

"She was stubborn, Don," he replied, his voice trembling slightly under my scrutiny.

The realisation hit me like a bullet. Enzo had laid his hands on her.

In a flash, I was at Enzo’s side, pinning him against the wall with a force that reverberated through the room. “For the second time today, Enzo, you defied my order!” His action ignited something primal within me.

I knew Enzo would be surprised by my rage over a woman, but even I couldn’t grasp the depths of my own feelings.

I heard her whimper softly as I tightened my grip on Enzo. “Such a weak one,” I muttered under my breath, the words dripping with disdain.

“Why? Does it matter?” I heard her voice, defiant yet fragile, as I finally released Enzo but not without giving him a deadly glare, a silent promise of his impending punishment.

I turned back to her, brow furrowed, my expression a mask of authority. “I mean…” she continued, the bravado returning to her voice, “I’m less valuable now? With a scar, I’m worthless. So, maybe you can just take me back to my house?”

She pouted, the expression a mix of defiance and intelligence, “as if she could barter for her freedom with mere words.”

But I beat her to it.

“You are right.” I replied slowly, taking a deliberate step towards her, eyes narrowing as I watched her expression shift from triumph to uncertainty.

“Whether you’re useful or not is for me to decide,” I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. I relished the way her smile faded, replaced by a flicker of fear.

“This is my domain. I am the master here, and I make the decisions.” I stepped closer, the space between us crackling with tension. She needed to understand the hierarchy.

“I never asked to be in your goddamned domain,” she shot back, her voice sharp and filled with rage.

“Take me back to my house!” she screamed, the defiance ringing in the air like a challenge.

My lips tightened, fury boiling within me. No one dared to raise their voice against me, let alone defy my orders.

“What is your name?” I asked, my anger barely restrained.

She rolled her eyes, turning away from me, dismissing my authority.

I slammed my hand on the table, the sound reverberating like a gunshot.

“I ask the questions here, and you answer! Is that understood?”

Tears pooled in her eyes, but she blinked them away, determined not to show weakness.

“Your name?” I demanded again.

“Kimberly,” she replied quietly, almost defeated.

“Good.” I poured myself a glass of juice, savouring the moment.

“Please let me go,” she begged, her voice barely a whisper.

I looked at her, my gaze distant, as I took a slow sip. “You can go.”...

“Don?…” I heard Enzo call from behind, concern etched in his features.

“Th… Thank you…” she gasped, turning to leave, hope blooming in her eyes.

“At the expense of your brother.” I finished my statement, the weight of my words hanging in the air.

Kimberly stopped dead in her tracks, the shock evident on her face. “You know my brother?” she asked, her voice tinged with desperation.

Enzo moved closer, showing her footage of her brother, doing rehearsals in a lit studio.

“He has eyes on him,” I told her, satisfaction curling my lips. I watched her demeanour shift, her bravado wilting as reality settled in.

I approached her, bending down to her level, my voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m your master, and you will listen to me.” Each word dripped with authority.

“The moment you mess up, your brother dies.”

As I turned to leave, I saw her sat back, dejected, as if the weight of my words had crushed her spirit.

Just as I reached the door, her voice sliced through the silence.

“My father… Did you even bury him?”

Her words hit me like a punch. “Did you even bury him?” Five simple words, but they tore through me like a storm.

I didn't let it show, as I ignored her question and made my leave.

******

I stood in front of my father, Anger building up inside me.

“Stop being ungrateful, Leonardo,” my father’s voice rang in my ears, firm yet calculated. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you.”

“Killed her father? How is that for me?” I shot back, anger boiling in my chest.

I clenched my fists, the familiar fire igniting. “You didn’t have to kill him and put her through that!”

My father’s eyes narrowed, his tone shifting to something more dangerous. “You think you know better than me? You think you can protect her on your own? They will come for her, and I hope you are ready.”

“That's for me to worry about! Don’t get involved in this,” I warned, my voice low and threatening.

“The last time I didn’t get involved, your mother died. You think I would make the same mistake?”

My face hardened, the mention of my mother reopening an old wound. We stood there, locked in a silent standoff, the tension thick enough to slice.

His words sank in like knives, my heart pounding. “That was different.”

The threat was subtle, yet I felt its weight. Without another word, I turned and stormed out, the door slamming behind me, echoing my rage.!

CHAPTER 4

Kimberley POV:

I woke to sharp sunlight streaming through the window, forcing my eyes open. Disoriented, I blinked against the brightness. How had I fallen asleep so deeply? I scolded myself—this is unlike me.

A knock came at the door, and before I could respond, it opened. I tensed, bracing myself for the "Don"—the one whose name I didn’t yet know. But the voice that greeted me was female.

“Good morning, ma’am,” she said curtly. “I’m Helen. I’ve been assigned as your personal maid.”

I looked up, my relief barely contained. At least she was younger, with a face that seemed capable of a smile, unlike the stern, older woman who had attended to me yesterday.

“Mr. Fiore requests you come downstairs. He’s expecting you,” she continued. “I’m here to get you ready.”

"Mr. Fore?" I muttered, almost too loudly. "What sort of name is that?"

She stiffened slightly. "Fiore, ma’am," she corrected quickly, then added, “Please, let me help you prepare.”

She looked chatty, eager even, but I swallowed my questions. There’d be time to earn her trust. For now, I needed to keep my thoughts to myself—until I could use her to learn more about the monsters holding me here.

I slid out of bed and walked toward the bathroom, Helen following close behind.

“Don’t,” I said, cutting her off as I reached the doorway. “I don’t need your help here. Just lay out the clothes.”

The bathroom was enormous, easily larger than both my father’s sitting room and kitchen combined. I caught myself comparing the two spaces and immediately pushed the thought away. What good would it do to dwell on what was behind me? My fingers shook as I ran the bath.

By the time I returned, Helen had placed a light floral gown on the bed—a strapless dress paired with a jacket. It was delicate, soft. Strangely beautiful, given the circumstances. I changed silently and followed her downstairs, every step weighed down by thoughts of escape. My eyes roamed, searching for exits, but no clear path emerged.

In the sitting room, I found him. Mr. Fore or whatever sat at the end of the room, reading a newspaper, And I wondered who still reads newspapers these days.

I stood waiting for him to speak.

He finally acknowledged my presence and dropped the newspaper. He lowered the paper and glanced at me. His gaze swept from my dress to my face, unreadable.

“Our wedding is in three days,” he said flatly. “You’ll go with my sister and Enzo to the bridal mall and get yourself a wedding dress.”

I blinked. "A wedding? In ninety six hours?"

“You're not here to plan Kimberley, You're here to marry” He said curtly.

The words sank into me like a stone dropped into dark water. I was about to be bound to a man I loathed, a man who’d taken everything from me.

And your sister?" I asked instead.

"She'll be here by evening."

I made a mental note to be overly nice to his sister, then I will plan an escape or something to just get out of this madness.

I just hope his sister isn't just like him. But I can't stretch my luck, she might just be as evil

He rose from his chair, the movement slow, deliberate. “Don’t play smart, Kimberly. You won’t get far.”

His warning lingered in the air as he walked out, leaving me standing there, helpless.

I couldn’t escape—yet. Not without knowing where I was, how this house worked. First, I needed to learn its layout.

I was going back to my room, I found Helen waiting by the doorway. An idea sparked.

“Helen, how long have you worked here?” I asked, watching her closely.

“Thirteen years, ma’am,” she said, bowing her head slightly.

Perfect. A seasoned servant would know every corner of this mansion.

“Could you give me a tour of the house?” I asked, feigning interest. Desperation edged my voice, but Helen didn’t seem to notice.

“Of course, ma’am. It would be my pleasure.”

She led the way, As I followed her down the grand staircase, my eyes darted to the windows, the doors. Every route a potential escape, if only I had the chance.”

My eyes scanning every room, every hallway. The mansion was enormous, each turn more extravagant than the last. But I saw no hidden doors, no promising exits.

Helen was nice, and a good guide. Showing me places. The mansion was big and we were soon tired. I don't know if it's worth it, 'as I didn't see any "secret door."

Guess I would just have to try to find a way myself. Alone.

I was soon hungry, Helen brought my food to my room after I had a shower. But the sight of the food made my hunger disappear.

How could I eat? My brother was in their grasp, my father dead—had they even buried him? I didn’t know. Was anyone mourning him? And here I was, forced into a marriage with the very man who had destroyed my life.

I stared at the untouched food, my mind spiralling deeper.

I remember The office. Elicia. The debt. Everything. I couldn’t even tell how long I’d been lost in thought until Helen returned to call me for lunch as Mr Fiore requested for my presence. Her eyes flicked to the uneaten breakfast and back to me. She sighed softly, though she tried to hide it.

“I’m not hungry,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

It doesn't have to do with the food," I tried assuring her. "I'm just not hungry."

"Can't he eat alone," I sighed.

Helen retreated sluggishly, looking scared. But I didn't care.

A moment later, the door creaked open again.

I froze.

He was standing there. Mr. Fiore. His eyes swept over me, taking in the sight of me wrapped in only a towel as I had not changed into any cloth since my last shower.

His gaze lingered for a moment too long, and something in his expression shifted. His jaw tightened, his Adam's apple bobbed.

Hey!" I screamed. He stood in the doorway, watching me, as if weighing a decision. Each step he took toward me felt deliberate, like a predator circling prey. My hands flew up, instinctive, protective. 'Don’t touch me!' My voice cracked with panic.

He paused, clearly not expecting my outburst. His movements slowed, the predatory glint in his eyes dimming.

“Get dressed,” he said coldly. “My sister is downstairs.”

And then, just as abruptly as he came, he turned and left.

Kimberley POV

"Place your watch securely. Report any unusual activity to me," I heard Mr. Fiore say on the phone as I descended the steps.

His face was serious, brows furrowed with worry. Whatever was being discussed was far from trivial.

At the bottom of the stairs, a woman suddenly embraced me in a warm hug, catching me off guard. Her perfume was sweet, comforting. For a moment, I wanted to stay in her arms, to forget everything. When she finally let go, I took in her features—blonde hair, bright almond eyes, her smile so easy it seemed impossible not to return it.

“What a gem Leonardo’s bagged for himself!” she said brightly.

I forced a smile. “Good evening.”

“I’m Emiliana. But please, just call me Emily.” She practically radiated happiness, the kind I hadn’t seen since I got here.

“Kimberly,” I replied, my smile straining.

"I can't wait for the wedding," she added, her excitement palpable. I couldn't help but wonder what made her so blissful about the whole thing.

"Let's go shopping!" she urged, taking my arm with enthusiasm.

"You can't go." A thick, cold voice interrupted us.

I turned to see Leonardo.

"Why not?" Emily asked, her tone defiant.

"Reasons best known to me," he replied flatly.

“Enemies lurking around “ he added

"Are enemies not always lurking around?" she shot back, clearly annoyed at his sudden change of plans.

Leonardo shot her a cold glare that silenced her.

“Everything she needs for the wedding will be sent here," Leonardo said, his tone dismissive.

Emily looked hurt, withdrawing her hand from mine. She picked up her bag and pulled me into a final hug, whispering,

"We'll meet again."

As she walked away, I felt a surge of anger within me. I didn’t want the wedding, but escaping this mansion had seemed like my only chance. Now, hope was slipping away.

I watched her leave, the flicker of hope she represented vanishing with her. The wedding wasn’t what I wanted. But if I could just escape this mansion…

I had somehow started to like her.

But what did Leonardo mean by "enemies lurking around"? I turned my attention back to him and found him engrossed in a phone call, his expression serious.

I rushed back upstairs, slipping out of my fitted jeans and pulling on a pair of shorts—something easy to run in. I paused for a moment, heart pounding, wondering if this plan was too reckless. But what choice did I have?

I passed through the hallway like I had done with Helen. I was more focused this time. Not missing chances. Then, I spotted a door to the garage. My heart raced as I noticed the guard. This was it—the moment to escape or get caught. I couldn’t afford to hesitate.

I noticed the guard was talking to someone, and he collected a package. I paid more attention and realised it was a food package.

I felt a pang of sympathy for the guard; he seemed overwhelmed with work and had little time to eat. But my pity quickly faded as a plan began to form in my mind.

"Wow!" I exclaimed as I approached him.

The guard's eyes widened, and he hurriedly tucked the food away, caught off guard by my sudden appearance.

"Eating on duty?" I teased, a playful edge to my voice.

"I'm sorry, madam. I don't usually do this," he stammered, flustered.

"Ah, but today is just an exception, isn’t it?" I replied, a hint of mockery in my tone.

Even I was taken aback by how confidently I confronted him. This wasn't just a game; it was my chance to turn the situation to my advantage.

I'll have no choice but to inform Mr. Fiore," I said, narrowing my eyes. The guard's face paled instantly, and I watched guilt and fear flicker across his features. I had him right where I needed him.

“Please don’t,” he said quickly, the panic unmistakable.

“Depends,” I said, leaning closer, my pulse quickening. “If you help me with something.”

He stood, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. His posture stiffened as if preparing for something he didn’t quite understand.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice guarded.

“I need to step outside. Just for a minute. Not through the main gate. I know there should be another route.”

His doubt was clear, suspicion creeping into his expression. His hand hovered near his pistol, a silent threat.

I smiled, trying to seem harmless. “It’s a surprise for Leonardo. Something... personal.”

His eyes narrowed, sceptical. “I’m not sure I can help you with that ma'am” he replied with a tone of finality.

“You’re new here, right?” I forced a laugh, though every word felt like a gamble. “So am I. I’m just trying to plan a little surprise for him.

I leaned in, my voice a whisper now. “Think about it. You help me, and you’re the one who made it all happen. You’ll be the hero.”

The guard’s shoulders slackened slightly. He was torn, I could see it. But finally, with a reluctant sigh, he nodded.

“Alright. But the part outside is rough terrain, Be careful.”

I barely acknowledged his warning. “Just show me.”

His resistance wavered. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he nodded. “Fine. But be careful .”

He led the way, while I followed him.

We got to a dead maze farm, a twisted trail of thorns and bushes. There he stopped.

“Just keep walking straight,” he said. “It leads to the city.”

Without another word, I took off, the thorns scratching at my bare legs, the pain sharp but ignorable. My heart pounded in rhythm with my feet hitting the ground. I kept running, faster, harder, until I could see the faint outline of the city in the distance. I almost allowed myself a breath of relief.

“Just a little more” I told myself.

But then, the sound of rustling behind me. I stopped, my blood freezing in my veins. Slowly, I turned.

Leonardo.

He stood just a few feet away, his eyes cold and furious locked onto mine. The guard trembled behind him, eyes wide with terror.

Please, don’t kill me, sir,” the guard whimpered. “She said... she said she was planning a surprise.”

Leonardo’s face remained impassive, his gaze never leaving mine. And then, without a word, he raised his gun. I barely had time to react before the sound of the shot echoed through the air.

Blood splattered onto the thorny plants, the guard’s body crumpling to the ground. The thorns tearing through his soulless skin.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

He had killed the guard. No questions, no hesitation.

Because of me. Because of my stupidity.

I wanted to scream but no voice came out.

“Why?” I whispered, my voice trembling, barely audible. Tears blurred my vision, my body trembling as I looked at the lifeless body of the man who had just been helping me moments ago.

Leonardo’s expression didn’t soften. His grip on the gun was steady, unflinching, as he aimed it directly at me.

“This is what you get when you try to play smart with me,” he said coldly, his voice a deadly whisper. His finger tightened on the trigger.