Elena collapsed onto her bed, after another day of training, her chest rising and falling heavily as she tried to catch her breath.
Every muscle in her body ached.
Not the sharp, unbearable pain from the first week—but a deeper, lingering soreness that had settled into her bones. The kind that reminded her… she was changing.
She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling, her breathing gradually slowing.
The training sessions had grown more intense.
And Lucian… had grown more ruthless.
Three weeks. That was all that remained until the gala. And the atmosphere in the house had shifted with it—tight, heavy, like something unseen was closing in.
Elena pushed herself harder each day, long past the point her body begged her to stop. She trained until her arms trembled, until her legs gave out beneath her, until even breathing felt like work. But still, she didn't stop.
Marco wasn't joking about being scared of Dante instead of him. If anything, he had been merciful in his warning.
Dante was worse. Much worse. He drilled her, made her master all the weapons in a few weeks. He was brutal.
And Marco? He was chaos wrapped in a grin. He made her punch the sandbag until her knuckles bruised and her arms burned, until her hits lost strength and rhythm. Then he'd tilt his head, disappointed.
The first time was the worst.
And Sofia, she made sure she ate her meals no matter how exhausted she was. No matter how much she didn't feel like it. She'd watch her with firmness until Elena gives in.
Her brothers had picked the first week of each month to come visit her.
But this time,It was a visit that came with questions. After the near death experience at school, Adrian had come for an answer after all he had become involved with Lucian unknowingly.
And surprisingly, Lucian and the rest had enlightened him on everything. Or at least… enough.
On that day, Elena had felt like she was walking on glass the entire time around her brother who was constantly sending little glares at her and wouldn't listen to her. She had to apologize several times to get his forgiveness.
But what they didn't know was, Even if this hadn't happened, they would have been dragged into this world eventually.
Elena exhaled slowly and pushed herself off the bed. Her body protested immediately but she ignored it.
Walking toward the bathroom, she pulled off her sports bra and shorts, loosening her hair from its usual tight hold.
The door clicked shut behind her as she stepped in. She paused in front of the full-length mirror and for a moment, she just stared.
Her body had changed. subtly… but undeniable.
She had barely had time to look at herself or appearance. Strength where there had once been softness. Faint bruises marked her skin, evidence of every fall, every hit, every lesson learned the hard way.
Her fingers brushed lightly over one of them, she didn't flinch instead… A small, almost amused smile touched her lips.
She looked different.
She turned on the shower, letting hot water cascaded over her skin, easing the tension locked deep in her muscles. A quiet sigh escaped her lips as she tilted her head back, letting the warmth wash over her.
For a few moments… she just stood there. Everything slowed. Then the water stopped.
She took her towel and entered the room.
Dressed in a light and comfortable pair of shorts and top, Elena returned to her bed, exhaustion pulling at her again.
But her mind didn't settle.
Lucian... her brows furrowed slightly. He had been watching her during dinner. That wasn't new. He always watched.
But tonight… It had felt different, it made her skin tingle. She doesn't understand why it affects her. It felt more heavier, intense, and darker, almost….
She shook her head, and scoffed softly under her breath, turning onto her side.
"As if". She mumbled softly.
She was overthinking it.
Lucian Moretti didn't do intimacy. Men like him didn't feel. They took, controlled, owned. He probably had women lining up for him. Why wouldn't he? He was ridiculously handsome, powerful, untouchable and wealth.
She scoffed at the thought before her lips curved faintly.
He saw her as nothing more than something to keep. A responsibility. Maybe even a possession. Like a pet and its owner. But she wasn't something that could be owned.
She refused to be
Elena wondered what kind of woman he liked. She yawned as she pulled the cover up to her neck, sleep came slowly but eventually…It took her.
A little while later, the door opened quietly. Carefully. Almost soundlessly. Lucian stepped inside before closing the door gently.
The room was dim, shadows stretching across the walls as the soft light traced his figure.
He looked… different. His hair slightly disheveled. His tie loosened. The top buttons of his shirt undone. A faint stain marked the edge of his collar.
He walked towards her bed, his footsteps made no sound, the air shifted with his presence. He stopped beside her bed, silently watching her with his hands tucked in his pocket.
His gaze lingered on her face… her breathing… the way she lay completely unaware.
Something dark flickered in his eyes.
She had been tormenting his thoughts. Even at the warehouse, she had been there. Constant and unrelenting. He so much wants to ruin her, she was his and his only.
Lucian didn't move immediately. He stood there… just watching.
The room was quiet, the kind of silence that pressed against the walls, that stretched between seconds and made them feel longer than they were.
His gaze settled on her face. Then lower. He watched the slow rise and fall of her chest… steady, unguarded. Vulnerable in a way she would never allow if she were awake.
His jaw tightened.
A part of him… the part that never hesitated, never questioned—urged him forward.
But he didn't move.
His fingers flexed slightly at his side, like he was restraining something unseen, something clawing beneath his skin.
A breath left him slowly. Still, he stayed where he was.
Watching, memorizing. As if trying to understand why this… why she… had become something he couldn't simply ignore.
He stepped closer slowly, each step quiet, like he was approaching something fragile. He stopped beside the bed close enough now.
His gaze lingered again—on her face, the softness sleep had left behind. His hand lifted slightly—Then paused mid-air.
He sighed quietly.
Slowly, he removed his gloves, setting them aside before reaching out his fingers, they hovered for a brief second— Then brushed lightly against her cheek. Soft and careful as if testing something he didn't fully understand.
His gaze dropped.
His eyes burned with passion and obsession like no others, he dragged his eyes over her, until they settled on her lips and he bit down his lower lips. His throat moved slightly as he swallowed.
Desire flickered beneath his control.
He stepped back, creating distance between them because he knew if he didn't…he wouldn't stop.
Lucian glanced over her room, then turned away, running a hand through his hair before moving toward the chair in the corner, lowering himself into it.
Shadows swallowed part of him whole. But his eyes remained on her. The hunger in them couldn't be concealed.
He had faced enemies without hesitation, destroyed men without a second thought. But Elena…he didn't know. She disrupts his logic, she's like a wild cat. Unpredictable and dangerous in a way he didn't like.
But one thing he knows is that she belongs to him even if she denies it a million times. He had resist the urge to take her… to break her defiance… clawed at him. To keep her locked up, to remind her who she belongs to
He clenched his jaw.
He couldn't believe a monster like him would soften for her.
She wasn't supposed to matter, She was supposed to be temporary. A responsibility. A situation to control.
He was supposed to keep her as a hostage until everything was calm and return her life back to normal.
And yet—
Here he was. In her room, watching her sleep… thinking things he shouldn't.
He ran his hands through his hair.
He knew exactly what he was. A man who took what he wanted, a man people feared, a man who didn't hesitate. But with her. He did. And that irritated him more than anything else.
His gaze darkened. How long…? How long before she stopped resisting? Before she broke? Before she became his completely, body, heart, mind and soul. How long? — Not by force But by choice.
The thought Lingered
His face was expressionless, not giving anything away but his eyes were still on her his emotions not settling down, instead they burned.
Lucian leaned back slightly, exhaling slowly his eyes flickered once more to her sleeping figure.
She had improved dramatically in training and adapted to this life and it came as a surprise to all of them.
Three weeks.
"We'll see…" he murmured under his breath.
This time, there was no doubt in his mind. The storm was coming and when it did, nothing would remain the same.