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Chapter 2 - Chapter 2 – No Escape from the Mafia King

The mansion was silent, almost too silent, when Isabella cracked open the heavy oak door of the guest room. She held her breath, listening for footsteps. Nothing. Only the distant hum of crickets and the faint drip of water echoing from somewhere deep within the house.

She couldn't stay here. Not after witnessing that murder. Not when she was trapped in the home of the man who ordered it.

Her bare feet padded softly across the marble floor as she crept down the hallway. The walls were lined with gold-framed portraits of stern-looking men—past mafia bosses, no doubt. Every shadow seemed to move, every creak of the wooden staircase made her heart leap.

Just get out… find a phone… call the police…

Isabella reached the grand foyer, her pulse racing. The double doors to freedom stood just twenty feet away. She sprinted for them, adrenaline surging—

"Going somewhere, bella?"

The deep, smooth voice froze her mid-step.

Leonardo DeLuca stepped out from the shadows near the staircase, his tall frame draped in a black tailored suit that hugged his broad shoulders perfectly. He wasn't wearing a tie, his top buttons undone, revealing a hint of ink curling down his tanned chest. In one hand, he held a glass of whiskey, swirling the amber liquid lazily as if he'd been expecting her escape attempt all along.

Isabella's breath caught. She hadn't even heard him approach.

"I…" She swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice. "I was just… looking for a bathroom."

Leonardo's lips curled into something between a smirk and a threat. He descended the staircase slowly, each step echoing like a countdown to doom. "Interesting," he said, his voice dangerously soft. "Because unless my architect lied to me, the bathroom is upstairs… not at the front door."

Panic clawed at Isabella's chest as he reached the bottom step. She took a step back, but the massive double doors loomed just out of reach.

"I told you," Leonardo continued, setting his whiskey glass on a nearby table, "you're my guest. And my guests don't try to leave without permission."

"Guest?" Isabella snapped, fear giving way to a flicker of anger. "You kidnapped me! I saw something I shouldn't have, but I swear I won't say a word. Just let me go!"

Leonardo tilted his head, studying her with those dark, unreadable eyes. In a blink, he closed the distance between them, his towering presence swallowing the space around her. His cologne—spiced cedar and danger—wrapped around her like a vice.

"Do you know what happens to people who see me take a man's life?" His hand came up, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face with a tenderness that made her shiver. "They don't get to leave. Ever."

Her breath hitched. "So you're… going to kill me?"

He leaned in, his lips grazing her ear, his voice a velvet growl. "If I wanted you dead, bella, you wouldn't be standing here arguing with me."

A tremor of fear—and something else—ran through her. There was no mistaking the lethal danger in his tone, but beneath it, an electric current of something darker, hungrier.

Leonardo's fingers trailed down her jaw, lingering at her pulse point, feeling the frantic beat of her heart. "No," he murmured, almost to himself. "I think I'll keep you. At least until I decide what to do with you."

He stepped back, eyes gleaming like a predator satisfied with his catch. "Now," he said, straightening to his full height, "upstairs. I'll have someone bring you clothes. You'll dine with me tonight."

Isabella's stomach twisted. "I'm not having dinner with a murderer."

The room went still. One of Leonardo's brows arched, and for a moment, she thought she had gone too far. But instead of anger, a dark chuckle escaped his lips. He moved closer again, so close she could feel the heat radiating off him.

"You have fire," he said, his voice low, his accent curling around every word like silk and steel. "Good. The last thing I need is another obedient doll in my house." His gaze dropped briefly to her trembling lips before locking onto her eyes again. "But make no mistake, Isabella… no one refuses me. Not in my world."

Before she could respond, he gripped her wrist—not hard enough to hurt, but firmly enough to remind her she had no choice—and led her up the staircase. The contact sent a jolt through her body she didn't want to acknowledge.

---

Dinner was tense and surreal. A long mahogany table stretched between them, lined with crystal glasses and fine china, but only two seats were occupied. Isabella pushed her food around the plate, barely tasting it. Leonardo, on the other hand, ate with unnerving calm, sipping his wine as if there wasn't a terrified woman glaring at him from across the table.

Finally, she couldn't hold back anymore. "Why are you keeping me here?" she demanded, slamming her fork down. "You could've let me go. No one would believe me if I said anything."

Leonardo set his wine glass down and leaned back, his fingers steepled. "Because you intrigue me," he said simply. "Most people scream, beg, do anything to get on my good side. But you…" His eyes narrowed slightly, burning into hers. "…you stood there and dared me to kill you."

"That wasn't bravery," Isabella snapped. "It was desperation."

"Call it what you want," Leonardo said with a lazy shrug, "but it's rare. And I like rare things."

The way he said it made her stomach flutter against her will. She hated the effect he had on her—the way his deep voice made her pulse race, the way his dark eyes seemed to see right through her.

He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "You're safe here, Isabella. Safer than you'd ever be out there. As long as you understand one thing…"

"And what's that?" she asked, heart pounding.

"You belong to me now."

The words hung heavy in the air, sealing a fate Isabella didn't yet understand. She wanted to deny it, to scream that no one owned her. But as Leonardo's gaze burned into her, she realized escape wasn't just impossible—it was a death wish.

And despite every ounce of common sense screaming at her to hate him, a part of her wondered… why did it feel like she was falling into something far more dangerous than just the mafia's grip?

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