Chapter 3 3.
The gates of the Don Salvatore’s estate opened.
Elena watched from the passenger seat as the massive iron structures swung wide, revealing a driveway. The mansion at the end of the path was a sprawling masterpiece of Renaissance architecture and modern glass, glowing under the Italian moon.
"This is a fortress," Elena whispered, her voice barely audible.
"It is home," Salvatore replied, his eyes fixed on the road.
“I can't keep you at North Wing anymore.”
"And for you, it is the only safe ground in Italy."
He pulled the car to a stop. A dozen men in dark suits appeared instantly but none moved toward the car until Don Salvatore stepped out. When he finally came out, they bowed their heads.
Salvatore walked around to Elena's door and opened it. He reached in, wrapping his large hand firmly around her forearm to pull her out.
"Marco," Salvatore called out.
Marco is a tall, man with a scar running through his left eyebrow. He stepped forward scanning the perimeter with his sharp eyes.
"Marco is my eyes when I am not here," Salvatore told Elena. "If you need something, tell him. Don't try anything funny."
Marco gave a curt nod. "I've made ready the north suite, Boss. The staff is waiting."
Salvatore led her inside.
"I don't need a suite," Elena said, her voice echoing. "I need my phone and I need to call my editor."
"Your old life is on pause," He said leading her up a wide staircase.
He stopped at a pair of double doors and pushed them open. The room was beautiful, filled with soft cream furniture and a balcony overlooking the gardens.
"I'd advise you rest your transformation starts in the morning."
\---
Elena woke up to a woman with bright red hair and a tape measure draped around her neck.
"I am Claire," the woman said, her accent thick. "The Don sent me."
For hours, Elena was scrubbed, polished, and poked. Her hair was deep-conditioned until it shone like mahogany, her nails were painted a deep, blood-red, and a team of stylists hauled in racks of designer clothes.
"Why is he doing this?" Elena asked as Claire pinned a black lace dress against her frame.
"Our master doesn't keep a woman who looks like she doesn't belongs anywhere, he keeps things that reflect his power."
A knock at the door interrupted them and an older woman with a kind face entered, carrying a silver tray with tea and small cakes.
"I am Rosa," the woman said softly. "The housekeeper.
Emma felt a lump in her throat. "Thank you, Rosa. Everyone here is so... intense."
Don Salvatore appeared in the doorway. He looked at Elena, his gaze traveling slowly from her styled hair down to her bare, manicured toes.
"Better," he murmured. "Much better."
\---
The silence of the house that evening was too much for Emma to bear. She just watched from her balcony as the shift changed.
Now.
She had earlier memorized the layout from her window. She slipped out of her room, moving like a ghost through the shadows of the hallway. She bypassed the main foyer, slipping through the servant’s entrance Rosa had used earlier.
Elena ran. She looked back to see if she was watched and scrambled over a low stone wall at the edge of the property. Her heart was beating fast. She reached the main road and started waving her arms.
At the same time, Don Salvatore, stationed by his window saw her. Just what he'd expected.
A car pulled over. "Please," she gasped. "The police station. Take me to the central precinct."
The driver nodded, his face hidden in the shadows.
Twenty minutes later, Elena burst through the doors of the police station. She saw a familiar face at the front desk—Officer Leo, a man who had given her tips on several stories over the years.
"Leo! Thank God!" Elena cried, rushing to the desk. "It’s me, Elena Moretti. I was kidnapped by Salvatore Romano... he’s holding me at his estate. Please…You have to help me."
Leo looked up, worried and surprised.
"Elena," Leo said, sighing. "You did the right thing!, I'm glad you came."
“But you shouldn't be accusing a feared man like Don.”
"What are you talking about? He’s a criminal! Call the commissioner!"
Leo stood up and walked around the desk. He put a hand on her shoulder, “it's alright, I'll take you home.”
"Leo parked up his desk and they entered his car.”
“Why did you bring me back here?” she said in disbelief.
He pulled out his radio. "She’s here. Tell the Don she’s safe."
"No," Emma whispered, backing away. "Leo, no. You’re a cop!"
Listen Elena, scanning the place with his eyes. “ I know he's a bad guy but we don't have evidence. We need strong evidence on him, just stay…take it that you're doing the world a favour.
But—
“Just do as I say” he held her, escorting her to the front door.
\---
"I told you," Salvatore said, his voice a low, dangerous hum. "There is no world outside of mine."
He grabbed her hand, and led her back into the house. Leo watched them go, his head down.
Salvatore didn't take her to the north suite. He took her to his private study.
He slammed the door and locked it. He turned on her, his eyes blazing with a blue fire that made Elena’s breath hitch.
"You think this is a game?" Julian roared, his voice shaking the glass decanters on the table. "You think I saved your life so you could throw it away?"
"I want my life back!" Elena shouted back, her eyes wet with angry tears. "I don't belong in this house of blood!"
Salvatore crossed the room in just two stides successfully pinning her against the mahogany desk. He leaned in enough for his body to press into hers.
"Your life ended the moment you stepped into that warehouse," Salvatore hissed. "I killed for you… I spilled blood to keep you breathing. That makes your life mine, Elena and you owe me every breath you take."
"I owe you nothing!"
"You owe me everything," he countered, his face so close his nose brushed hers. The tension between them was thick, a volatile mix of hatred and an attraction so raw it felt like a physical weight. "And since you clearly can't follow simple instructions, we’re going to have new rules."
He reached out, his hand sliding into her hair and tilting her head back. "Rule number one: You do not leave my sight without my permission. Rule number teo: You will eat every meal with me."
He paused, his gaze dropping to her lips. Elena felt her heart pounding against her ribs, her body betrayed her by leaning into his heat.
"And rule number three," his voice dropping to a husky, intimate growl. "Every night, before you are allowed to sleep, you will come to me and you must give me a kiss goodnight."
Elena’s breath caught. "No."
"Yes," he insisted, his thumb rubbing across her lower lip, sending a jolt of electricity through her. "A reminder of whose mercy you are under and of who owns the air in your lungs."
"You’re a monster," she breathed.
"I am your monster," he replied.
He didn't wait for her to agree. He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers. It was hot, desperate, and filled with a dark promise that made Elena’s knees weak.
He pulled back just an inch, his eyes dark with possessiveness. "Now, give me my kiss, Elena. Or we can stay in this study all night and find other ways for you to pay your debt."
Elena looked at him, her pulse thrumming in her throat.
She shaked with a mix of fury and a desire she couldn't name as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. It was supposed to be a small gesture, but the moment they touched, Salvatorr groaned, his hand tightening in her hair as he claimed her mouth with a ferocity that told her one thing clearly.
She wasn't just his captive but his obsession.
"Goodnight, Elena," he whispered against her lips, finally letting her go. "I'll see you in the morning.”