Chapter 66 Sixty seven
Elena’s POV
The plan was brutally simple, and it was the only thing I had left: I had to climb the east wall at dusk, when the guard shift changed.
I waited in the shadows of the terrace, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might crack my ribs. When the light softened to a bruised gray, I slipped down into the garden and kept low, moving quickly but quietly across the damp grass.
I reached the wall, pressed my palms against the rough stone, and found the first holds for my fingers and toes. I started to climb. My arms burned almost immediately, and the cold stone scraped my skin raw, but I did not look down and I did not stop.
Sweat stung my eyes and my breath came in sharp, ragged bursts. Every muscle screamed for me to let go, but I kept going higher because this was finally the way out. I could almost taste the freedom waiting on the other side.
Then strong hands clamped around my ankles.
I froze for one terrified heartbeat before I kicked wildly, but he was already pulling me down with terrifying strength. I hit the ground hard, the air punched out of my lungs, and before I could scramble away, his arm banded around my waist like iron, pinning my arms uselessly to my sides.
I turned to see it was Matteo.
He lifted me off the ground so my feet dangled helplessly, and he carried me back toward the house at a fast, relentless pace.
I screamed and thrashed against him. My heels slammed into his legs over and over, hard enough to bruise, but he did not even flinch. He did not shout, did not speak, just kept moving with that cold, unbreakable focus. He did not take me to the bedrooms.
Instead he strode straight through the main hall, and the people who saw us quickly turned their faces away, pretending not to notice me being dragged like a captured animal.
He shoved open a heavy door, and we descended a flight of concrete stairs into darkness. The air grew colder and thicker, heavy with the smell of motor oil and concrete. An underground garage. He carried me all the way down without his grip loosening even a fraction.
The space was vast and harshly lit by glaring overhead lights that bounced off rows of silent, gleaming cars parked on polished concrete. He walked straight to a low, black car, yanked the passenger door open, and threw me inside. I landed hard on the cold leather seat. Before I could even twist around to fight back, the door slammed shut and the lock clicked with a final, sickening snap. I lunged for the handle and yanked, but it did not move at all.
He slid into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and the deep, furious roar filled the closed space. Without a glance at me, he shifted into gear and drove fast up the ramp and out into the night.
The car became a weapon hurtling along the cliff edge. The world outside blurred into streaks of shadow and blinding light. Solid rock wall flashed past on the left, and on the right there was nothing but a sheer drop to the black water far below.
He took the curves too fast, tires shrieking in protest, and my body pressed deep into the seat. My fingers dug into the door handle until my knuckles turned white. Fear tasted sharp and metallic in my mouth, but beneath it burned a wild, helpless anger.
He was doing this to prove a point, to show me exactly how powerless I really was.
We hit another sharp curve. The back end slid out, and for one endless, heart stopping second the headlights swung over empty sky. We were tipping sideways, sliding toward the edge. He did not slow down.
The car balanced on the very edge of the world, and the darkness in front of us yawned like an open mouth waiting to swallow us whole. His words hung between us not as a threat, but as a cold, final fact.
This was the other choice: not a quiet room or a guarded garden, but a short, violent fall onto the rocks below, and then nothing. There was no secret way out, no clever trick, no hidden third door.
I looked from his hard, certain face in the dashboard glow to the black void beyond the glass. My heart hammered wildly, but my mind went strangely still and clear. I finally understood. He had not brought me here just to scare me. He had brought me here to show me the only real alternative to staying with him. I turned back to him and gave one slow nod, not surrender, just terrible, final recognition.
He held my gaze for a long moment, then faced forward again. He shifted into reverse and eased the car back slowly, carefully, until all four wheels rested on solid ground. He turned us around and drove back down the mountain at a smooth, quiet pace. No speed now. No words between us.
The compound appeared ahead, its high walls bright under the floodlights. They looked different to me now. They were not just a prison, but the only place left.
He pulled into the garage and turned off the engine. The sudden silence felt heavy and final. He got out, walked around, and opened my door. He did not offer a hand. He simply waited.
I climbed out on legs that felt weak and unsteady, and stood on the cold concrete. He looked down at me. “The next time you climb a wall,” he said, his voice low and steady, “remember what waits on the other side. It is not freedom. It is just a different kind of fall.” He turned and walked toward the stairs without once looking back.
I stood there for a long second, staring at the car, at the dark garage around me, at the retreating line of his shoulders. Then, with nothing else left inside me, I followed him. Up the stairs. Back into the house. Back to the only option I had left. And somewhere deep in my chest, a small, dangerous spark flickered—because even now, even after everything, I was not sure I was ready to stop fighting.
Matteo’s POV
I drove us onto the coastal road, the black sea stretching endless and hungry on our right. I pushed the car harder and harder until the engine screamed and the wind howled past the windows. “You want to leave?” I said, my voice flat and calm against the noise. “Fine. Let us go.” I pressed the accelerator to the floor.
At Viadotto Sereno the curve came too fast. The tires lost grip and the back swung wide toward the void. I saw the endless black drop in the corner of my eye, and I saw her face beside me pale, rigid, staring straight ahead. I did not brake.
I steered into the skid, fought the wheel until the car shuddered and snapped straight again. Only then did I slam on the brakes. Tires screamed on asphalt, gravel sprayed everywhere, and we skidded to a violent stop.
The front of the car hung over the edge. Headlights poured uselessly into darkness. The front wheels sat right on the lip of the cliff, and tiny stones trickled from beneath them, falling away into silence.
The engine idled softly. Our breathing filled the car. I turned my head and looked at her. She was breathing fast, eyes wide, but she was not crying. She stared at the emptiness beyond the windshield.
“This is the alternative, Elena,” I said quietly, my voice cutting through the stillness. “Chaos, danger and death.” I shifted in my seat until she had to meet my eyes. “Or the order and protection I give you.” I let her see the absolute truth in my gaze. “There is no third option.”