Under The Surface

The rules of this game were elusive, but one thing was clear: Tristan Romano thrived on control. Every look, every word, every calculated move was a reminder that I was playing on his board, and he held all the pieces.

But I wasn't going to let him win-not without a fight.

The morning passed in a haze of suffocating quiet. Elena returned to collect the untouched tray, her concerned gaze flicking toward me but offering no words this time. I spent the hours mapping out the house in my mind, replaying every hallway and locked door I'd glimpsed since arriving. An escape was impossible right now, but knowledge was power, and I intended to gather as much as I could.

By midday, I was restless. I had to do something-anything- to remind myself that I was still Selena Rossi, not just some pawn in Tristan's empire.

That's when the knock came again, firm and deliberate.

"Come in," I said, steeling myself.

The door opened, but it wasn't Tristan. Instead, a man I hadn't seen before stepped inside. He was tall and broad, with sharp features and an air of authority that rivaled Tristan's. His dark suit was impeccable, and the faint scar running along his jawline only added to his intimidating presence.

"Mrs. Romano," he said with a slight nod. His voice was deep, measured. "My name is Luca Moretti. I work for your husband."

Husband. The word sent a fresh wave of resentment through me.

"What do you want?" I asked, keeping my tone cold.

He smirked, though there was no real warmth in it. "I'm here to escort you to lunch with Mr. Romano."

I raised an eyebrow. "Tristan can't come get me himself?"

Luca's expression didn't falter. "He's a busy man. He asked me to ensure you made it on time."

I almost laughed at the audacity. "Ensure I made it on time? Am I a guest or a prisoner?"

Luca's smirk grew. "That depends on how you behave."

I hated how my heart sped up at his words, the threat laced beneath the surface. Still, I refused to let him see my fear.

"Lead the way," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady.

He stepped aside, gesturing for me to follow him. As I walked through the halls, my eyes darted around, cataloging every detail-the placement of cameras, the number of guards, the exits.

Luca led me to a grand dining room where Tristan sat at the head of an ornate table, casually sipping a glass of wine. He looked up as I entered, his sharp gaze locking onto mine.

"Selena," he said smoothly, rising to his feet. "I was beginning to think you'd skipped our lunch."

"I didn't realize it was optional," I replied, matching his tone with icy indifference.

Tristan's lips curved into a faint smile, but there was a warning in his eyes. He pulled out a chair at his side, gesturing for me to sit.

"Join me," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

I hesitated, every instinct screaming at me to refuse. But I knew better than to defy him outright-not when I didn't fully understand what he was capable of.

Reluctantly, I sat down, my back straight and my hands folded in my lap. Tristan returned to his seat, watching me with that infuriatingly calm expression.

"You look tired," he said, pouring a glass of wine and sliding it toward me.

I ignored the wine. "I didn't sleep well."

His gaze sharpened. "Because of me?"

The question caught me off guard. Was that concern in his voice? No-it couldn't be. Tristan didn't do concern.

"I think you already know the answer to that," I said carefully.

He leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "ו meant what I said last night, Selena. Fighting me will only make things harder for you."

"And surrendering to you will make things easier?" I shot back.

His jaw tightened, but he didn't respond right away. Instead, he reached for his wine glass, taking a slow sip before setting it down.

"You think this is about control," he said finally, his voice low. "But it's not. This is about survival-for both of us."

"Survival?" I echoed, frowning.

Tristan leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as he met my gaze head-on. "You think you're the only one who didn't have a choice in this marriage? You're wrong, Selena. Neither of us did. But if we don't make this work, there are people out there who will destroy us both."

His words sent a chill down my spine. For the first time, I saw a glimpse of something deeper beneath his calculated exterior -a flicker of vulnerability he couldn't quite hide.

"Who are you afraid of, Tristan?" I asked softly.

His expression hardened, the vulnerability vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. "You don't need to know that."

"But I do," I insisted. "If we're in this together, I need to know what we're up against."

He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "You'll know when the time is right," he said, his tone final.

Before I could respond, he turned and left the room, leaving me alone with more questions than answers.

But one thing was clear: Tristan Romano wasn't just my captor. He was running from something-or someone. And whatever it was, it terrified him.

THAT WAS.....WOWWW..... To be continued... loviessssss ❤️