Vincenzo didn’t ask where they were going. He already knew.
The De Luca estate was a fortress. Wrought-iron gates, endless cameras, guards in black suits that looked more like assassins than security. Vincenzo had only heard stories—most of them sounded like nightmares.
The car stopped in front of a sprawling mansion. It was too quiet. Too clean. Like no one really lived there. Just ghosts.
He was escorted through grand hallways, past marble statues and paintings of dead-eyed ancestors. Eventually, they stopped in front of a pair of tall double doors.
Matteo De Luca
This will be your room (open the room door)
The room was luxurious—too luxurious. It made Vincenzo uneasy. The bed was massive, with black silk sheets. The windows were tall and barred. There was no lock on the door. Not on the inside.
Vincenzo Rossi
( turned to matteo) "You expect me to just... sleep here like a good little bride."
Matteo De Luca
No, I expect you to learn your place.
Vincenzo Rossi
And if I don’t?
Matteo stepped into the room, letting the door swing shut behind him.
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