A Game of Control

Serena's POV

The walls of my room felt like they were closing in.

I had barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him—his cold smirk, the way his fingers had ghosted over my jaw, the quiet threat in his voice.

Some left. Some stayed. Some broke.

The way he had said it, with that maddening patience, sent chills through me. He was waiting for something. Watching.

And I hated that a small part of me was afraid he was right.

I wouldn't break.

I couldn't.

But the longer I stayed locked away, the harder it was to hold on to myself.

I paced, my bare feet sinking into the thick carpet. I needed to do something—anything—to remind myself that I still had a say in my own fate.

Then I saw it.

The vanity.

The one thing in this gilded cage that was breakable.

Without thinking, I grabbed the perfume bottle sitting on top and hurled it against the wall.

It shattered instantly, shards flying across the room, the scent of roses thick in the air.

The sound was loud—too loud.

The door burst open seconds later.

A guard stepped in, gun drawn.

His eyes swept over the broken glass, then to me, standing there, chest heaving, fists clenched.

A slow smirk curled his lips. "Looks like someone's throwing tantrums."

I glared at him. "Get out."

He didn't move.

I took a step forward. "I said, get out."

Still, nothing.

He's testing me.

Lorenzo's men weren't just soldiers. They were wolves, trained to sniff out weakness.

So I did the only thing I could—I stepped closer, lifting my chin. "Are you deaf, or just stupid?"

His smirk faded.

He took a slow step toward me. "Careful, princess."

I swallowed hard. My pulse was racing.

He was too close now.

But I didn't back down.

I was done feeling small.

Then, before I could react, a shadow loomed behind him.

The guard stiffened.

And just like that, the entire room shifted.

The air thickened.

I didn't have to turn to know who it was.

Lorenzo.

His presence was suffocating, filling every inch of the space.

The guard's smirk vanished. "Boss."

Lorenzo didn't speak right away. He let the silence stretch, coiling around us like a noose.

Then—CRACK.

The guard dropped to the floor before I even saw Lorenzo move.

Blood dripped from his mouth, his nose shattered.

Lorenzo crouched beside him, his voice eerily calm. "Did she tell you to leave?"

The man groaned.

Lorenzo gripped his jaw, forcing his face up. "Answer me."

"Y-yeah," the guard choked out.

Lorenzo hummed. "And yet, you stayed."

I swallowed hard. The temperature in the room had plummeted.

Lorenzo leaned closer, his voice a quiet promise of violence. "Do you know what happens to men who don't follow my orders?"

The guard's eyes widened. "I—I didn't—"

Lorenzo didn't let him finish.

He stood, and with one swift motion, he kicked the man square in the ribs.

The guard gasped, curling in on himself.

I pressed myself against the wall, pulse hammering.

Lorenzo turned to me then, as if seeing me for the first time.

"Did he touch you?"

His voice was dangerous.

I shook my head. "No."

His eyes darkened. "Did he try?"

I hesitated.

And that was enough.

Lorenzo crouched again, gripping the man's hair, forcing him to look at me.

"Did you touch her?"

The guard whimpered. "N-no. I swear."

Lorenzo sighed.

Then, without warning—he pulled a knife from his belt and drove it straight through the man's hand.

A scream ripped through the room.

I slapped a hand over my mouth, my stomach twisting.

Blood pooled across the floor, seeping into the carpet.

Lorenzo stood, wiping his hands on a handkerchief.

He turned to me, completely unfazed. "You're upset."

I forced myself to look at him. "You—" I swallowed, voice shaking. "You just stabbed him."

His lips twitched. "Should I have done worse?"

I shuddered.

I wanted to say yes. That I wanted men like that to suffer.

But I wasn't like Lorenzo.

I wasn't this.

He studied me for a long moment, then took a slow step forward.

I backed away, but the wall was already there.

I hated that he knew he had me cornered.

"That man disobeyed you," he murmured. "And I don't tolerate disobedience."

My pulse pounded. "So you—what? Made an example out of him?"

His eyes flickered with amusement. "I protected what's mine."

I stiffened. "I'm not—"

His hand brushed my cheek, cutting me off.

Soft. Slow.

Too gentle for a man so cruel.

His thumb dragged across my lips.

And then, in a voice that sent a chill through me, he whispered,

"Not yet."

Then he turned and left, stepping over the bleeding man as if he wasn't even there.

---

Lorenzo's POV

She was trembling.

Not from fear.

From rage.

And I liked it.

I had expected her to break sooner. To shatter the way others had.

But Serena wasn't like them.

She didn't cry. She didn't beg.

She fought.

And I found myself wanting to see how far she could go before I finally made her mine.

Dante was waiting for me in my office, arms crossed.

"I heard screaming."

I smirked. "Good."

He exhaled. "Lorenzo. You can't keep killing your own men."

I poured myself a drink. "I didn't kill him."

Dante raised a brow. "Yet."

I sipped my whiskey.

"You're obsessed with her," he muttered.

I didn't deny it.

"She's different," I said simply.

Dante scoffed. "Different? She's just another girl—"

I slammed my glass down.

"She's not just anything," I said darkly.

Dante studied me for a long moment, then sighed. "She's going to ruin you."

I smirked.

"She's going to save me."

---

Serena's POV

The blood was gone by morning.

The room was spotless, as if nothing had happened.

But I couldn't erase the memory.

Lorenzo's voice.

His touch.

The way he had destroyed a man just for looking at me the wrong way.

I wanted to hate him.

I needed to hate him.

But as I sat on the bed, staring at the spot where the guard had bled out, one terrifying thought crept into my mind.

A thought I didn't dare say out loud.

For the first time since being taken… I didn't feel powerless.

And I wasn't sure what scared me more—Lorenzo's darkness… or the part of me that was starting to understand it.

---

Bye Lovelies