You Belong to me Now.

You Belong to me Now.
Alice’s POV

We moved through a grand living room, but pain turned everything into a blur. The high ceilings, polished floors, expensive art—they meant nothing. 

All I saw was his broad back and the iron grip on my wrist as he dragged me up a marble staircase, each step echoing like a countdown.

He shoved open a heavy oak door and tossed me inside like I was nothing.

I hit the polished floor hard, knees stinging, pride burning worse. Before I could scramble up, the lock clicked behind me.

My heart thundered. Is this it? Panic clawed my throat. After clawing my way out of prison, is this where I die? Some mafia tyrant’s mansion?

I swallowed, forcing my fear down, and met his eyes—cold, calculating, too calm.

He stood with arms crossed, gaze sharp and unreadable. “Why are you in Milan?”

The way he looked at me—it wasn’t curiosity. It was possession.

I glared back. “How does that help with killing me, Don?” I said, sarcasm slicing through the fear.

His eyes narrowed. Then, in one fluid move, he crouched and wrapped a hand around my throat.

My vision blurred as his fingers tightened, cutting off air.

“We’ll deal with that sharp tongue later,” he growled, breath hot on my cheek, laced with cruelty. “First, I will break that attitude.”

Beneath the fear, I caught a faint grape scent—cologne or wine? I shouldn’t care. But for a split second, I wondered how it tasted. God, what’s wrong with me?

My lungs screamed. “L-Let me go,” I rasped. His grip loosened just enough for air to rush back, but his hand lingered, a reminder of his control.

He held my gaze. “Why are you in Milan?”

My throat burned, my pride aching. I wanted to defy him, but I had a goal—make Rick and Yvonne pay. I couldn’t die yet.

“To start over,” I whispered, tears stinging, betraying me.

He arched a brow, his expression unreadable. I braced for more questions, but none came. Instead, he straightened, towering over me again. 

“You won’t sing at the club anymore.”

“What?” My voice cracked with fury. “That’s my job, my only income. You can’t just own me!”

He smirked, crouching too close. I flinched as his hand neared my hair. 

“That’s where you’re wrong, Alice,” he whispered, icy, sinister. “Everyone in Milan answers to me. You should’ve done your research.”

A chill scraped my spine. He leaned closer, breath grazing my cheek. “DEVescori Lounge is mine. I decide who stays.”

I blinked back tears, helpless. 

The prison guards were heartless, yes, but at least they had rules and were predictable. This man? He was a storm with no boundaries.

It’s not even been a full week since I got released, and already I was back in chains.

“So how do you expect me to survive without a job?” I hissed, my voice low with fury. “From the looks of it, you’re not ready to kill me. Not yet.”

He smirked again, standing to his full height, his presence filling the room like a storm cloud. 

“Good question, Alice.” He began pacing around me, each step of his polished shoes a deliberate thud that synced with the frantic rhythm of my heart. 

I felt like prey circled by a predator.

“You’re beautiful,” he said casually, like he was talking about the weather. But there was nothing casual about the way his gaze dropped to my body.

My heartbeat stumbled. That rhythm—it was not fear. That was something else entirely, something I didn’t want to name.

Before I could blink, he grabbed my hand and yanked me to my feet. 

I gasped, but his arm snaked around my waist, pulling me into him. My chest hit his, and I could feel the heat of his body through the strength in his grip. 

I froze, caught in the intensity of his gaze. Those wicked eyes—dark, hypnotic, and unrelenting—scanned my face, lingering on my lips before locking with mine. 

I wanted to look away, to break free, but his stare held me like a spell, grounding me in a hypnotic state. His fingertips moved—slowly, deliberately—down my arm, grazing the side of my hip.

“You have curves, Alice. Curves that torment men, and will drive them to their ruin.”

His voice was low, dark. His lips hovered dangerously close to my neck.

“And your ass…” His eyes gleamed with something primal. “It would look divine being claimed. They’d love seeing it pounded into a mattress.”

My eyes widened, shock and rage exploding in my chest. 

“What?” I choked out, my voice barely a whisper.

“I want you to be one of my actresses, Alice,” he said, his tone deceptively soft. 

“Not just your body, but that voice—sweet, raw—it’ll draw crowds. Hearing it moan…”

Rage consumed me, a red-hot inferno that drowned out fear. 

Without thinking, I shoved him back and swung my hand, my palm connecting with his cheek in a sharp, resounding slap. 

The sound echoed in the room, and for a moment, time stopped. His head barely moved, but something shifted in his eyes. 

The blue and brown swirled with something ancient and violent. Rage. Ice. Darkness.

I stood frozen, my hand still hovering in the air, trembling, stinging. 

My heart pounded so loud I could hear it in my ears. I’d just crossed a line. A line women didn’t cross with men like him. A line no one crossed and lived to tell about it.

His gaze remained locked on mine. Silent. Unblinking.

Then he let out a slow, dark chuckle. It wasn’t amused—it was low and bitter. Deadly.

“You’ve got fire,” he spat coldly. “I’ll give you that.”

I swallowed hard, my spine locking straight.

“How dare you?” I snapped, the defiance in my voice bolder than I felt. 

“I’m not your toy. Not your puppet. If you don’t value human lives or place a price tag on them, then let me make one thing clear—mine isn’t for sale.”

His smile vanished, then his hand shot out so fast I barely saw it, and in one breathless second, I was pinned to the wall. 

His forearm pressed against my collarbone—not enough to choke me, but enough to trap me. Enough to show me who was in control.

“You think your life is worthless to me?” He growled, so close I could feel the venom behind every word. 

“That’s where you’re wrong, dolcezza. Your life has value now, only because I say so.”

I glared at him, teeth clenched. “Then kill me and be done with it.”

He didn’t flinch. 

“I don’t kill women,” he said, voice calm and lethal. “But I make them wish they were dead.”

His free hand slid to my jaw, forcing me to meet his eyes. “And you? You just earned yourself a place on that list.”

I breathed hard, my chest rising and falling with fury, terror, confusion. But I didn’t look away. I couldn’t.

“I’m not afraid of you,” I lied, my voice barely above a whisper. It was a weak defiance, but it was all I had.

He chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent a shiver down my spine. 

“You should be.” He stepped back, eyes raking over me, hungry. “No singing at DEVescori. As for your survival… that depends on how well you play my rules.”

I clenched my fists, nails biting palms. “And if I don’t?”

His smile was slow, sinister. 

“I’ll strip your freedom, dreams, hope—until you’re begging for mercy.” He leaned in, lips by my ear. 

“You’ll regret that slap. Not because I’ll hurt you—though I could. But because your life isn’t yours anymore.”

“You belong to me, Alice. Body, voice, breath.”

He released me, stepping back like a lion letting prey run. I crumpled, shaking, heart slamming. He unlocked the door with a quiet click.

“Welcome to Milan.”

The door shut. I was in a new prison—beautiful, dangerous, ruled by him.