Hugo knelt in front of me again, his fingers tracing a path along my jaw. “You’re a beautiful little thing,” he said, his tone mockingly soft. “Maybe I’ll keep you as a pet and prisoner after I dump Dario’s body in the street.”

I glared at him, my voice steady and defiant. “I’m already Dario’s prisoner, Hugo. And I only serve one master, and that’s Dario. I’d rather die than serve an old man with a rusty pipe between his legs.”

The words barely left my mouth before his hand struck my face, the force of the blow knocking me onto my side. Pain exploded in my cheek, blood dripping from my nose and lips.

Hugo loomed over me, his face twisted with rage. “Careful, girl,” he hissed. “That rusty pipe will fuck you right in front of your lover before I kill him. That’ll be the last thing he sees before he rots in hell.”

I stared up at him, hatred burning in my eyes. I would rather die than let this man in between my legs. Dario would come. He had to.

90 days with my billionaire ex

The past few days had been a whirlwind of grueling training sessions with Bruno. Each day was harder than the last, but every punch, kick, and block brought me closer to feeling like I could handle this mission—or at least fake it convincingly. 


I’d learned more about myself than I thought possible. My punches had become sharper, my reflexes faster, and my ability to read people keener. Bruno said I was a natural, though his praise always came with his trademark sarcasm. 


As I zipped up my suitcase, preparing for the flight to Venice, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Confidence was supposed to be part of the act, but looking into my own eyes, I wasn’t sure how much of it was real and how much was an illusion I’d crafted to survive. 


Bruno knocked on the door and stepped in, holding a phone. “Dario wants to talk to you.” 


He shrugged. “Maybe he misses you.” 


I shot him a glare but took the phone. “Hello?” 


Into the lion's Den