A Dance with the Devil

Elena's pulse roared in her ears as she locked eyes with Luca. He looked exactly as she remembered—sharp, dangerous, exuding the kind of power that made men bow and women run.

She should have known he'd be ahead of her.

He always was.

Luca's smirk deepened as he stepped closer, his gun never wavering. "You disappoint me, bambina."

Damian shifted beside her, his body tense, ready to act. "If you're going to shoot, get it over with."

Luca chuckled, amused. "And ruin the fun? No, no. I went through all this trouble just to see her face when she realized she was too late."

Elena forced herself to breathe evenly. "What do you want, Luca?"

Luca tilted his head, pretending to consider. "What do I want?" His gaze flickered to Victor, who was still seated at the table, frozen like a man awaiting execution. "That's an interesting question. Do I want revenge? Power?" His eyes returned to her. "Or do I just want you?"

Her stomach twisted.

This wasn't about Victor. This was about her. It had always been about her.

Elena kept her voice steady. "You can't have me."

Luca exhaled through his nose, as if disappointed but not surprised. "See, that's where we disagree."

He took another step forward, and in one swift motion, he grabbed her chin, tilting her face up to his. The touch was deceptively gentle, but the control behind it was suffocating.

Damian tensed, but Luca's men were watching, weapons drawn. Any sudden move could mean death.

Luca's thumb brushed over Elena's jaw. "I gave you a choice once, amore mio. And you ran."

Her heart pounded. "You didn't give me a choice. You gave me a cage."

Luca's grip tightened just slightly, his gaze darkening. "And yet, after all these years, you still ended up back in my hands."

Elena willed herself not to shiver. Not to let him see the fear crawling up her spine.

Victor suddenly let out a shaky breath. "Luca, I—"

Luca held up a hand, silencing him without looking away from Elena. "Not now, Victor."

Victor swallowed hard, looking like a man who had already accepted his fate.

Luca studied Elena, his thumb tracing the curve of her bottom lip before he finally let her go.

Then, in a chillingly casual voice, he said, "I'll make this simple, cara mia. You want Victor alive? Come with me."

Elena's breath caught.

Damian's voice was sharp. "Not happening."

Luca's gaze flicked to him, amused. "You think you can stop me, stronzo?"

Elena's mind raced. She had two choices—leave with Luca and play his game… or fight and risk Victor's life.

She looked at Victor, the man who had ruined her life. The man she had wanted to kill.

And yet…

If Luca was keeping him alive, it meant he had a reason. And she needed to find out what it was.

Elena turned back to Luca, lifting her chin. "Fine."

Damian snapped his head toward her. "Elena—"

She cut him off with a glance. "I'll go."

Luca's smile was slow, victorious. "Good girl."

Then, without another word, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the exit.

Damian started to move, but Luca's men raised their guns, forcing him to stay back.

"Elena—"

She shot him a look. Stay alive.

And then, she was gone.

Dragged back into the fire.

Straight into the devil's hands.