Chapter 4

Grace’s POV

I couldn’t bear to stay in the café any longer, so I headed home. Arriving there, I felt a wave of relief seeing that all the men who had been there were gone. I made my way to my father’s office to let him know I was back.

The office door was open, and I saw my father flipping through some files.

"You’re back?" he said without looking up.

"Yes… It’s freezing outside," I replied, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

"Okay… Go to your room and change into something elegant. I’ve been invited to a dinner," he said, still engrossed in his documents.

"And why do I have to go?"

"Because I don’t want to go alone."

I nodded and headed to my room, searching for an elegant dress. I settled on a deep blue gown that seemed fitting for the occasion.

When we arrived at the destination, I was taken aback by the grandeur of the place. The house—or rather, the mansion—was teeming with armed men, their presence intimidating. But it wasn’t just the security that unsettled me; it was the way Elio, standing at the entrance, greeted us. His gaze swept over me with a disconcerting intensity that made me feel out of place. Something didn’t sit right.

Eventually, as the dinner came to an end, two men approached us. They pulled me away from my father, their grip firm and unyielding. My father’s expression turned from confusion to desperation as Elio stepped forward, a dark smile playing on his lips.

"Signor Caruso," Elio began, his voice smooth yet menacing. "You see, Grace is the price you must pay for your betrayal."

My father’s face went pale. He tried to protest, but his words faltered as Elio’s gaze remained fixed on him, a silent promise of consequences if he resisted.

I struggled against the men holding me, panic rising in my chest. "What do you mean?" I managed to stammer, but my voice was swallowed by the tension in the room.

Elio’s eyes softened just slightly, but there was still an edge of cruelty in his smile. "Oh, cara Grace, you don’t need to worry. This is just a small… adjustment. Your father’s actions have consequences, and you’re the one paying for his mistakes."

I felt a chill run through me as the realization sank in. This was more than just a business deal gone wrong; this was personal. Elio was exacting revenge, and I was the collateral damage.

As the men began to lead me away, I glanced back at my father. His eyes were filled with helplessness, and I saw the weight of his choices pressing down on him. I knew he was regretful, but it was too late.

Elio’s men guided me out of the mansion, and I was left to grapple with the uncertainty of what lay ahead. The grandiosity of the mansion had become a backdrop to a nightmare, and now I was at the mercy of the very man my father had crossed. The thought of what Elio might do next filled me with dread, and the only thing I could cling to was the hope that somehow, there would be a way out of this dark and tangled web.

As Elio's men dragged me away, my mind raced, trying to grasp what had just happened. The elegant dinner, the polished façade—it had all been a trap, carefully laid out by Elio to ensnare my father. And now, I was the pawn in their twisted game. My heart pounded in my chest as we moved through the sprawling halls of the mansion, the once-beautiful architecture now feeling more like the walls of a prison closing in on me.

The grip of the men on my arms was unyielding, but I refused to show fear. I couldn’t afford to. I needed to think, to find a way out of this. But the more I struggled, the more futile it seemed.

We passed through a set of heavy wooden doors, and I was brought into a dimly lit room. The atmosphere was stifling, and the air thick with the scent of leather and cigars. Elio was already there, leaning casually against a large oak desk, his eyes never leaving me. His presence dominated the room, and I could feel the weight of his gaze on me like a physical force.

"Leave us," Elio ordered the men, his voice calm but commanding. Without hesitation, they released me and exited the room, the heavy doors shutting behind them with an ominous thud.

For a moment, I stood frozen, unsure of what to do next. My instincts told me to run, to bolt for the door, but I knew better. There was no escaping this. Not yet, anyway.

Elio watched me in silence, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips as if he were amused by my inner turmoil. "You look beautiful tonight," he remarked, his voice smooth and unsettlingly calm.

I swallowed hard, refusing to let his words fluster me. "What do you want from me?" I asked, my voice steady despite the panic bubbling beneath the surface.

Elio pushed off the desk and approached me slowly, his movements deliberate and predatory. "I already told you, Grace. You are the price your father must pay for his betrayal. And now, you belong to me."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Belong to him? The very thought sent a wave of fury through me, momentarily eclipsing my fear. "I’m not some possession you can just trade for," I snapped, glaring at him with all the defiance I could muster.

Elio’s smile widened, as if my defiance only amused him further. "Ah, but you are, cara mia. In this world, loyalty and betrayal come at a high cost. And your father has made his choice."

I clenched my fists at my sides, struggling to keep my composure. "Why me?" I demanded. "Why not punish him directly? This has nothing to do with me."

Elio’s expression darkened, and for the first time, I saw the flicker of something dangerous in his eyes. "It has everything to do with you," he said quietly, his voice low and deadly. "Your father thought he could outsmart me. He thought he could betray me and walk away unscathed. But I’m not a man who forgives easily."

I took a step back, my pulse quickening as his words sank in. This wasn’t just about money or business deals. This was personal—deeply personal. Elio wasn’t just punishing my father; he was making a statement. And I was the instrument of his revenge.

"You’ll regret this," I said, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to stay strong.

Elio tilted his head, his gaze softening for a brief moment. "Maybe," he mused. "But for now, this is how it must be."

He took another step toward me, and instinctively, I backed away until I felt the cool surface of the wall behind me. His presence loomed over me, suffocating and intense. I could feel the tension crackling in the air between us, a strange mix of fear and something else—something I couldn’t quite name.

"You’re scared," Elio observed, his voice barely above a whisper. He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from my face, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone so dangerous. "But you don’t need to be. As long as you stay by my side, no harm will come to you."

I flinched at his touch, hating how powerless I felt in that moment. "And what if I don’t want to stay by your side?"

Elio’s smile faded, replaced by a look of quiet intensity. "You don’t have a choice, Grace. Not anymore."

The finality in his words made my heart sink. This wasn’t just a temporary situation. Elio intended to keep me, to control me. And the terrifying part was, he had the power to do it.

He stepped back, giving me space to breathe, but the weight of his presence still lingered in the room. "You’ll come to understand in time," he said softly, as if trying to reassure me. "This life—it’s not what you think. It can be… easier, if you accept your place."

I stared at him, disbelief and anger swirling inside me. Accept my place? How could he possibly think I would ever accept this?

But even as I stood there, glaring at him, I knew one thing for certain: I wasn’t giving up. Not yet. I would find a way out of this. No matter what it took.

Because if there was one thing my father had taught me, it was that survival in this world came down to two things: cunning and patience. And I intended to use both.