Trapped in Fire

The drive was silent.

Elena sat in the back seat of Luca's sleek black car, her wrists bound in silk—because of course Luca wouldn't use anything as crude as rope or metal. This wasn't just a kidnapping. This was a statement.

She wasn't a prisoner.

She was his.

Luca sat beside her, one arm draped casually over the seat, his fingers occasionally brushing against her shoulder. It was calculated—just enough contact to remind her who was in control.

She stared out the window, her mind racing. There had to be a way out of this. A weakness she could exploit.

Luca finally broke the silence. "You're thinking too hard, bambina."

Elena clenched her jaw. "Let me guess. You're going to tell me this is for my own good?"

Luca chuckled, low and dark. "You always were clever." He leaned in, his lips near her ear. "But you're wrong. I'm not keeping you for your good." His fingers traced the silk around her wrists before tightening it just slightly. "I'm keeping you because I want to."

She turned to face him, refusing to back down. "What do you want, Luca? You already won."

His eyes darkened. "Have I?"

The car slowed as they approached a massive estate, hidden behind iron gates and thick stone walls. Elena swallowed hard. It was different from his old properties—more secluded, more fortified.

More like a fortress.

The gates opened, and they drove up a long driveway lined with torches, casting flickering shadows on the cobblestone path.

Elena forced herself to breathe. She had survived Luca before. She could do it again.

The car stopped in front of the grand entrance, and a guard opened the door for Luca. He stepped out, then turned back to her, offering his hand.

She didn't take it.

His smirk was amused as he reached in and pulled her out anyway, his grip firm but not painful. Not yet.

As he led her inside, her heart pounded. The interior was as lavish as ever—dark wood, crystal chandeliers, velvet furniture—but there was something different this time.

Something colder.

She wasn't here as a guest.

She was property.

Luca led her to a grand bedroom—hers, apparently. The doors locked behind them with a quiet click.

Elena turned to face him. "So what now? You expect me to just fall into your arms?"

Luca laughed softly, stepping closer. "No, cara mia." He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I expect you to fight."

Her breath hitched as his fingers trailed down her neck, slow and deliberate.

"Because I enjoy breaking you much more than I would ever enjoy you surrendering."

Elena swallowed hard. I won't break.

But as she stared into Luca's dark, knowing eyes, she wondered—

Was she lying to herself?

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Next Chapter: The Game Begins—Luca wants control. Elena wants freedom. But when the past resurfaces, the game turns deadly. Who will win?