Chapter 12: The Devil's Proposition
(Lucien Moretti's POV)
The crack of the whip still echoed faintly in my mind as I strode down the hallway, wiping my hands with a white handkerchief.
Discipline was necessary.
Orders were meant to be followed.
And when I gave one, it was absolute.
The guards had known the consequences when they allowed her to step out of the car. They knew me. They knew my rules. Three hundred lashes each was merciful compared to what others in my world would have done.
I folded the handkerchief neatly and slipped it into my coat pocket as I approached the dining hall.
I expected silence.
I expected defiance.
I did not expect—
The faint glow of a screen illuminating her face.
I stopped mid-step.
Aria sat at the head of the long dining table, legs tucked beneath her chair, hair falling loosely over her shoulders. This time she wasn't in that infuriating bathrobe. She wore something simple — black fitted pants and a loose cream blouse she must have bought during shopping.
And in front of her?
A laptop.
My eyes narrowed.
When did she get that?
I walked toward her slowly, my shoes echoing against the marble floor.
She didn't look up.
Her fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard. Fast. Precise.
Too precise.
"Where did you get that?" I asked calmly.
No response.
Her eyes remained glued to the screen.
"I'm talking to you, Aria."
She exhaled lightly, still typing.
"I got it when I was shopping for my clothes," she said flatly, not sparing me a glance.
Then she did something unexpected.
She reached beside her and handed me my debit card.
I took it, staring at it for a moment.
"You used my card," I stated.
"You told them I could shop for what feels like me," she replied. "A laptop feels like me."
Her fingers resumed dancing over the keyboard.
I studied her screen from where I stood.
Lines of code.
Encryption strings.
A VPN interface.
What exactly was she doing?
"What are you working on?" I asked.
This time, she paused.
Slowly, she leaned back in her chair and finally lifted her gaze to me.
Cold.
Steady.
"I'm trying to break myself free from your cage," she said evenly. "I never liked it here anyway."
Something tightened in my chest.
She turned back to the screen as if I were irrelevant.
I stood there for a few seconds, watching her.
Then I walked away without another word.
But her words followed me.
Break myself free.
In my office, the air felt heavier than usual.
The men were already waiting.
We discussed shipments. Territory disputes. A compromised account in one of our offshore systems. A rival family attempting to breach encrypted communications.
I spoke. I gave orders. I signed documents.
But my mind—
My mind was elsewhere.
Lines of code.
Encryption strings.
Her fingers moving too confidently.
Suddenly, I froze mid-sentence.
Wait.
She's coding.
She's not just browsing.
She's building.
My jaw clenched.
Aria was a cybersecurity student.
If she had access to a strong enough system, she could attempt to trace transactions. She could dig into offshore movements. She could—
She could find things she wasn't meant to find.
Or worse.
She could leave digital footprints that would expose my empire.
I stood abruptly.
The men fell silent.
"Continue without me," I ordered before striding out.
My steps were faster this time.
Sharp.
Purposeful.
When I reached the dining area, she was still there.
Still typing.
Still ignoring me.
"Aria."
No response.
I walked closer.
"Look at me when I'm speaking to you."
Nothing.
My patience snapped.
I reached forward and snatched the laptop from her hands.
"Hey!" she snapped, standing up. "Fine! What is it this time, L.G.G?"
I frowned. "What did you just call me?"
She crossed her arms, staring at me with that irritating spark in her eyes.
"L.G.G."
My jaw tightened.
"Explain."
She tilted her head innocently.
"Lousy. Grumpy. Grandpa."
For a second, I forgot how to breathe.
The memory flashed.
That morning.
Her muttering under her breath.
So that's what she meant.
I closed my eyes briefly, forcing myself to inhale.
Here comes her sarcastic sass again.
I could punish her.
I could silence her.
But something about her fire—
It didn't feel like disrespect.
It felt like survival.
I exhaled slowly.
"Enough."
She rolled her eyes.
"I didn't come here to entertain your childish nicknames," I said. "I have something for you."
She folded her arms tighter.
"I'm not interested."
"You will be."
She said nothing.
I placed the laptop on the table between us.
"There's a system I need accessed. An encrypted server. It belongs to a rival group. I want the master code."
She stared at me blankly.
"And?"
"I want you to crack it."
Her lips parted slightly.
Then she laughed.
A soft, disbelieving sound.
"You kidnapped me, accused me of stealing your money, locked me in your house… and now you want my help?"
"It's not a request," I said firmly.
"It sounds like one."
"It's a command."
She leaned closer, her voice lowering.
"What would I get in return?"
I studied her.
"What do you want?"
She smirked slightly.
"Anything?"
"Yes."
She raised one brow mockingly.
"Including letting me leave this whole place?"
Our eyes locked.
The air shifted.
"No," I answered instantly. "Apart from that. Anything else."
Her expression hardened.
She scoffed and stepped back.
"Then hold your reward, Mister Whatever-It-Is."
She moved to take the laptop from the table.
I grabbed it first.
"You're in no position to negotiate."
She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"And you're in no position to underestimate me."
My grip tightened.
She wasn't scared.
Not even a little.
And that was dangerous.
"Do you know what happens to people who refuse me?" I asked quietly.
"Yes," she replied. "You whip them."
Her gaze flickered — just briefly — before returning to steel.
So she heard.
Of course she did.
"And yet you still defy me," I said.
"Because I'm not your guard," she answered. "And I'm not your property."
Property.
The word irritated me.
"You live under my roof," I said. "You eat my food. You use my money."
"And you took my freedom," she shot back.
Silence filled the space between us.
Her chest rose and fell steadily.
Mine did not.
"You're good," I admitted reluctantly. "Very good. If you crack this code for me, I'll give you access to resources. Courses. Tools. Certifications. Anything to advance your career."
Her eyes flickered with interest.
Just slightly.
"You'd invest in me?" she asked carefully.
"If you're useful."
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
"And if I refuse?"
I stepped closer.
"Then I take the laptop. I restrict your access to the internet. And you remain exactly what you are now."
"And what's that?" she asked.
"Caged."
Her jaw tightened.
She looked at the laptop.
Then at me.
"Fine," she said finally. "I'll do it."
A flicker of victory surged through me.
"But," she added quickly, "I set the conditions."
I raised a brow.
"You don't get to bark at me while I work. You don't hover. And you don't threaten me."
"You're asking for too much."
"I'm offering you my brain," she replied calmly. "Take it or leave it."
She had nerve.
Incredible nerve.
But she was right about one thing.
I needed her skills.
"Three days," I said. "You have three days."
She nodded slowly.
"And if I succeed?"
"You get your reward."
"Except freedom," she muttered.
I ignored that.
She sat back down, pulling the laptop toward her.
I stood there for a moment longer, watching her fingers begin moving again.
Confident.
Fearless.
Brilliant.
Why does she intrigue me so much?
She frustrates me.
Challenges me.
Disrespects me.
And yet—
My heart beat harder whenever she stood too close.
I turned and walked away before she could notice the shift in my breathing.
In my office once more, I leaned against the desk and exhaled deeply.
She wasn't just a prisoner anymore.
She was an asset.
A weapon.
And perhaps—
A weakness.
And I did not allow weaknesses.
Not in my empire.
Not in my heart.
Yet as her words echoed in my head—
Break myself free from your cage.
—I couldn't shake the feeling that the real prison in this mansion…
Wasn't hers.
It might just be mine.