The morning sun rose far too fast. Serena stared at her reflection in the mirror, her hands trembling around the bouquet of white lilies she didn’t remember picking out. Her makeup was flawless, her hair pinned perfectly, the dress a vision of lace halter-neck gown that clung to her frame like a lie she couldn’t take off.

Everything was ready.

Everything was wrong.

Rachel stayed with her throughout the preparation, trying to calm her, to make her eat, to stop her from pacing the length of the room like a prisoner waiting for a verdict. But no amount of comfort could quiet the voice whispering at the back of her mind.

He will know.

Luca always know.

Now, as the string quartet tuned softly in the church courtyard, Serena’s pulse refused to steady. Her wedding was supposed to be simple—family, close friends, no press. A quiet restart. But even as she smiled weakly at her reflection, she couldn’t shake the crawling sensation that she was being watched.

Rachel appeared in the doorway, radiant in pale blue. “You look like a dream, Reni,” she said softly. “Nathaniel’s waiting. You ready?”

Serena’s lips twitched into something that might have been a smile. “As I’ll ever be.”

Rachel stepped closer, studying her. “You’re pale. Did you sleep at all?”

“Not really.” Serena forced a small laugh, but her throat felt tight. “Just nerves.”

Rachel hesitated, clearly unconvinced, then squeezed her hand. “He loves you. That’s all that matters, okay?”

Serena nodded, but the word love felt heavy. Once, she’d thought love was safety, warmth, trust. But Luca had shown her another kind of love—possessive, consuming, the kind that burned everything it touched. And now, standing on the edge of her new beginning, she didn’t know which kind terrified her more: his love or the echo of it she still felt inside her.

The ceremony was beautiful.

Too beautiful.

White roses lined the aisle, the scent thick and sweet. The guests smiled as the music swelled. Nathaniel stood at the altar, handsome and composed, his eyes full of hope.

As Serena walked toward him, her heart twisted painfully. His gaze softened when he saw her, and for a moment, everything else blurred—the chaos, the fear, the shadow of Luca Moretti’s voice in her head.

You’re mine, Serena. You just don’t want to admit it yet.

She blinked, forcing the memory away.

When she reached Nathaniel, his hands found hers. “You look incredible,” he whispered.

Her smile wavered. “So do you.”

The priest began to speak, words flowing like a hymn. Promises, vows, forever. Serena’s chest tightened with every phrase. Nathaniel’s voice was steady when he repeated his lines, eyes never leaving hers.

Then it was her turn.

“Do you, Serena Reyes, take this man—”

Her throat closed. For one heartbeat, she couldn’t breathe. Every instinct screamed run.

But she looked into Nathaniel’s eyes, and what she saw there—faith, forgiveness, love—anchored her in place. She forced the words out, voice trembling. “I do.”

A ripple of applause followed. The priest smiled, lifting the final blessing. “If there is anyone who objects—”

The doors at the back of the church slammed open.

Gasps erupted. Heads turned.

A man stepped inside—tall, sharp-suited, flanked by two others in black. The sound of boots against marble echoed like a drumbeat.

Serena’s blood turned to ice.

Luca.

He walked down the aisle with the slow confidence of someone who owned the room. His gray eyes locked on Serena, ignoring the chaos around him—the shouts, the movement, the whispers of who is that?

Nathaniel stepped instinctively in front of her. “Who the hell are you?”

Luca’s mouth curved, not in a smile but in something far more dangerous. “Someone who’s here for what’s his.”

The air shifted. Tension rippled through the guests as one of Luca’s men blocked the door, the other scanning the crowd. Rachel’s hand flew to her mouth.

“Luca, please—” Serena started, her voice a frantic whisper. “Don’t do this here.”

He didn’t even look at Nathaniel. His gaze burned into her. “You thought you could just marry him? After warning you last night?” His tone was quiet, almost calm—but the danger threaded through every word.

Nathaniel turned to her, confusion and betrayal flashing in his eyes. “Last night? Serena, what is he talking about?”

Her heart cracked. “Nathaniel, it’s not—”

Luca’s voice cut her off, low and venomous. “Tell him, cara mia. Tell him how you moaned when you let me touch you.”

“Stop it!” she cried, trembling. “You don’t get to—”

“Enough!” Nathaniel’s shout echoed through the church. “Someone call security!”

But no one moved. Everyone was frozen, trapped between curiosity and fear. Luca took another step forward, eyes narrowing. “You think security can protect her from me?”

The priest backed away, clutching his Bible. Rachel moved toward Serena, but one look from Luca’s men stopped her cold.

Serena felt her world collapsing. “Luca, please. Don’t do this. You’re going to destroy everything.”

He tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “Everything?” He stepped closer until they were a breath apart. “No, Serena. I’m saving you from a lie.”

Nathaniel’s hand shot out, grabbing Luca’s arm. “Stay away from her.”

Luca turned his head slowly, eyes glinting. “You should rethink that.”

The tension broke like a storm. Nathaniel swung first, fury overriding reason. The punch landed hard, snapping Luca’s head to the side. Gasps filled the church. Before anyone could react, Luca’s men moved—swift, silent, lethal.

Serena screamed as chaos erupted. Chairs overturned, people shouted, someone shouted to call the police. Rachel tried to reach her, but a guard shoved her back.

Luca wiped the blood from his lip, expression unreadable. For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—conflict, pain, love twisted into obsession. His jaw clenched.

“You made me a promise, Serena,” he said softly. “And you broke it.”

Nathaniel moved, trying to pull her behind him. Then, almost casually, Luca pulled a gun from beneath his jacket and aimed it at Nathaniel.

“Luca—no!” Serena’s voice cracked. She stepped between them, tears streaming down her face. “Please don’t do this!”

A shot rang out.

Everything stopped—then, in the next heartbeat, the world shattered in a scream.

The gunshot cracked through the air like lightning.

For a heartbeat, Serena couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Her body went cold, her mind blank with terror. The echo of the sound seemed to stretch on forever, bouncing off the church walls and freezing everyone in place.

Then she realized—no one was bleeding. The bullet didn't hit anyone. Luca had fired into the ceiling.

Screams erupted, the crowd scattering in panic. Serena’s chest heaved as smoke curled toward the vaulted roof. Nathaniel grabbed her hand, trying to pull her toward the side door, but Luca’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade.

“Take them.”

The men moved before she could react—swift, practiced, unrelenting. One tore Nathaniel away from her; the other seized her arm. She screamed, fought, but her struggles were useless. Luca stood in the middle of the aisle, calm amid the storm, watching as his orders unfolded like choreography.

“Luca! Please!” Serena cried, twisting in the grip of the man holding her. “Stop this! You don’t have to—”

He didn’t respond. His expression was unreadable as she was dragged outside into the blinding sunlight.

The next minutes blurred together—car doors slamming, tires screeching, shouts fading behind them. The smell of gunpowder and roses lingered on her skin as the city vanished through tinted glass.

Nathaniel’s voice shouted somewhere behind her, muffled, furious. Then—darkness.

When Serena woke, her head throbbed. The air was cold, heavy with damp stone and metal. She was lying on a narrow bed in a dimly lit room, wrists bound loosely in front of her. The walls were gray, windowless. A single bulb buzzed overhead.

For a moment, she couldn’t tell if she was dreaming. Then she heard it—Nathaniel’s voice, distant but unmistakable, shouting her name.

“Reni! Serena!”

Her breath hitched. She stumbled to her feet, rushing to the door. It was locked.

“Luca!” she screamed, pounding on it with her fists. “Where is he? What did you do to him?”

The door opened.

Luca stood there, calm as ever, dressed in black, a faint shadow of stubble darkening his jaw. His gray eyes found hers, sharp, assessing.

“He’s safe,” he said simply. “Downstairs. I had to make sure he didn’t do something stupid.”

Her voice trembled. “You kidnapped us.”

“I brought you somewhere you’d finally listen.”

“Listen?” She let out a broken laugh. “You think this makes me want to listen? You’ve lost your mind!”

He didn’t flinch. “Maybe I have. But you’re still here, aren’t you?”

She took a step back, anger cutting through her fear. “You can’t just take people, Luca! You can’t control everything you want to keep!”

His gaze hardened, a storm brewing behind his calm exterior. “I tried to let you go. You ran straight to him. You said yes to him. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

Serena swallowed, her voice softening despite herself. “You don’t get to feel betrayed. You broke into my life, destroyed everything, made me afraid of my own heart.”

Luca moved closer, his voice low, dangerous. “And yet, you’re still thinking about me. Even now.”

Her pulse jumped. She hated that he was right. She hated that his presence still pulled at something deep inside her.

“I’ll never love you,” she said, barely above a whisper. “Not after this. Not ever.”

He stared at her for a long moment. Then he smiled—slow, devastating, and so full of pain it twisted something in her chest.

“Maybe,” he said softly. “But I’ll love you enough for both of us.”

She shook her head, tears burning behind her eyes. “That’s not love, Luca. That’s obsession.”

He stepped closer, close enough that she could smell the faint scent of his cologne—dark spice and danger. “Then call it what you want. I don’t care what name you give it. It’s still ours.”

“Let me go.”

He studied her face, then exhaled slowly. “You think I enjoy this? Keeping you here?” His tone cracked, a rare fissure in his composure. “You think I like hearing you beg to leave when I know the world out there will tear you apart?”

“You’re the one tearing me apart!” she shouted.

For a moment, they just stood there—breathing, watching, caught in the current of something neither could name nor escape.

Finally, he turned away, voice rough. “You need to rest. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“I need to see Nathaniel,” she demanded.

Luca’s shoulders tensed. “He’s alive. That’s all you need to know.”

Her voice cracked. “Please, Luca. Just let me see him.”

Something flickered across his face—guilt, maybe, or longing. Then he nodded to one of his guards outside the door. “Bring her some food,” he said. “And make sure she’s not harmed.”

He started to leave. Desperation clawed at her.

“Wait,” she said quickly. “I need to use the bathroom.”

He stopped. His back was to her for a long moment. Then, without turning, he said quietly, “You’re not going to run.”

Serena forced her voice steady. “I just need a moment. Please.”

Slowly, he faced her again. His eyes searched hers—looking for lies, fear, hope. Whatever he saw there made his jaw tighten.

He stepped closer, fingers reaching for the ropes around her wrists. His touch was deliberate, almost tender as he untied them.

The rope fell away, leaving faint marks on her skin. For the first time since the wedding, she could move freely.

Luca’s gaze lingered on her hands, then lifted to her face. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Don’t make me regret trusting you.”

Serena nodded, her heart pounding. “I won’t.”

He stepped aside, gesturing toward the small adjoining door. “Go ahead.”

She hesitated only a second before slipping past him, every muscle trembling.

The moment the door shut behind her, Serena’s breath came in ragged gasps. The room was small—just a toilet, a sink, and a single bulb flickering overhead. But then she noticed it—above the toilet, a small square opening covered with a thin piece of cloth instead of glass.

Her heart lurched. A way out.

She climbed onto the toilet seat, fingers trembling as she peeled the cloth away. Cold air hit her face. The opening was narrow—barely enough for a body to squeeze through—but she was slim. She could make it.

Her pulse hammered.

She pushed one arm through, then her shoulders, twisting, scraping skin against rough concrete. The fabric of her dress tore, catching on the edge. She bit her lip to keep from crying out.

Almost there.

One last shove—and she slipped through, tumbling onto the hard ground outside. She took one steadying breath.

And then—

The sound of a gun cocking echoed behind her.

“Going somewhere, cara mia?”