Chapter 10 Punishment
Lina’s POV
I lost my balance against the pillar and fell into the center of the room, painfully aware I had no business being there.
Pain shot up from my knees to my thighs. I sucked in a sharp breath and forced myself upright. Two pairs of eyes were on me before I even dared look up.
One face was disbelief incarnate.
Carlino’s, on the other hand, was unreadable—calm, controlled, like he’d seen this before.
“What are you doing here?” His voice was even, but it cut through me sharper than any scream.
I swallowed. Words tangled in my throat. “I… I got lost.” The lie felt flimsy, and I knew it.
“You got lost?” He stepped closer, each footfall deliberate, echoing through the room. My stomach sank. Nothing about his gaze was harmless.
I braced myself instinctively, every nerve alert.
“Yes. I—I couldn’t find my way back,” I added, forcing my voice steadier than it felt.
He didn’t answer right away. Just studied me—slow, precise. Like he was weighing something invisible against me.
I clenched my fists, refusing to look smaller than I felt. “I wasn’t trying to intrude,” I said, sharper this time. “I just—” My words faltered, but my defiance lingered.
“Just what?” His tone was light, almost curious, but his eyes promised consequences.
I met his gaze, unwilling to shrink. “I just… needed to see something for myself.” He paused, a slow smirk brushing the corner of his mouth. “Bold,” he said. “Or foolish.”
The room shifted around us. Shadows stretched, the silence pressing. I felt it—the unspoken challenge in the air. One wrong move, one word too many, and everything would tip.
“I don’t like surprises,” he finally said. His voice dropped a notch. “Neither do I forgive them easily.”
A tremor ran through me, but I lifted my chin. “Then maybe you should learn to forgive mistakes.”
Carlino tilted his head, amused, and dangerous. The smirk didn’t fade.
“I told you,” he said at last, “to stay in your room. Not to wander,” he said, with a single step back, the tension didn’t ease—it multiplied.
My chest tightened. “I didn’t think—”
“That,” he cut in smoothly, “was your first mistake.”
He stepped closer. The click of his shoes bounced sharply in the room, stacked high with books and relics. I forced myself to stay put, though every instinct screamed to run.
“Let’s count,” he said, low and deliberate. “Since you seem confused.”
My pulse spiked.
“First,” he lifted a finger, “you disobeyed a direct order.” His eyes drilled into mine.
“Second,” another finger rose, “you wandered into a restricted wing of my house.”
“And third,” his voice softened, almost casual, “you stood close enough to hear a conversation never meant for you.”
My stomach knotted.
Behind him, Damien stiffened. Even he hadn’t expected it said aloud.
“I didn’t mean to—” I began.
“Intent,” Carlino interrupted, stepping in front of me, too close. That same cologne of his hit me—dark, sharp, expensive. My knees still throbbed from the fall, but I didn’t dare move.
“In my world,” he continued, “mistakes cost lives. Disobedience costs freedom.”
My throat burned. I whispered, almost pleading, “Please… I didn’t understand. I swear.”
He studied me—not for truth, but for how useful my fear could be. Then his hand came up.
The slap landed hard. Fire bloomed across my cheek, a sharp taste of iron flooding my mouth. I flinched, tears gathering faster than I could stop them, and my hair spilled forward, shielding my face.
He caught my chin with two fingers, lifting my face toward him. The touch was almost gentle.
The control behind it wasn’t.
“You’re lucky,” he said quietly. Lucky? My cheek burned, my chest ached, and yet the word felt like a threat.
I swallowed, defiance sparking despite the pain. “Lucky… for what? That I’m still standing?”
He tilted his head, amusement flashing.
“For the moment. But your choices… they’re catching up to you.”
The room seemed smaller, the shadows longer. Every breath I took felt measured, every blink dangerous. But I refused to shrink.
“I'll—”
“You know you’re standing here,” he continued cutting me short, “because I haven’t decided what you are yet.”
My stomach dropped.
Damien cleared his throat. “Boss, do you want me to—”
“No.” Carlino never looked away from me. “She needs to understand.” He released my chin and stepped back, reclaiming the space between us like it had never been breached.
“This is your punishment.”
My heart stuttered.
“You will not leave your room without permission,” he said evenly. “Not for food. Not for air. Not for curiosity.” His tone sharpened. “Guards will be stationed outside your door at all times.”
My breathing turned shallow. Trapped.
“You’ll be escorted everywhere,” he continued, “even inside my own house.” Damien gave a single nod. Law accepted.
“And tomorrow,” Carlino added, “you’ll attend the election with me.”
I looked up sharply. “Tomorrow?”
“Yes.” His gaze hardened. “You wanted to see my world. You’ll see it from where I can watch you.”
Damien frowned. “Is that wise, Padrone?”
Carlino’s lips curved faintly. “It’s instructive.”
His eyes returned to me—slow, assessing. Then, without warning, his hands shot up and clamped around my throat.
I gasped, instinctively clawing at his arms. He didn’t move. “Disobey me again,” he said, voice low, stripped of warmth, “and we won’t be counting next time.”
Something cold settled deep in my bones. When he released me, my knees nearly buckled. I caught myself just in time, dragging air into my lungs in burning, desperate pulls.
I straightened.
Even shaking, I lifted my chin. “Then don’t mistake silence for obedience,” I said hoarsely.
For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—interest, maybe. Then it vanished.
Damien opened the door. I stumbled past him, each step unsteady, heart pounding too loud in my ears. The door clicked shut behind me.
Carlino’s voice followed—calm, absolute, as if nothing had happened. “Lock her floor tonight.”
That was when it settled.
There was no mercy here. No exaggeration. Every word, every threat—he meant them.
He wasn’t pretending to be the devil. He simply didn’t bother hiding it.