My stomach tightened.
“Go on,” he said, pushing off the wall, taking one step toward me, then another. “Come here.”
My breath caught slightly. “You’d let me leave my room?”
He stopped just close enough that I felt him again. Not touching, not quite… But there, pressing into my space, making it his without effort.
“Run if you want,” he said quietly. “I won’t even follow.”
That was worse than if he’d threatened to chase me down the street. There was no anger in his voice. No threat. Just certainty that I would obey his orders no matter what.
“Why are you giving me this fake freedom?” I asked. “Is it just a test?”
His gaze held mine, dark and steady, something unreadable flickering beneath it. “Because I want to see if you understand what happens next.”
The silence stretched between us heavy and thick with tension. I looked at the door again, really looked this time, not at the handle, but beyond it. The hallway. The exit. The illusion of freedom that didn’t belong to me anymore. Then I stepped back.
“I told you already,” I said. “I’m not stupid. I know you’re testing me.”
His mouth curved, faint but real this time. Not kind. Not warm. Approval.
“No,” he murmured. “You certainly are not stupid. Get dressed.”
I blinked. “For what?”
“Breakfast,” he replied with a calm smile. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet, and you sure as fuck aren’t going to do it in that see-through nightdress.”
A flush crept into my cheeks and I hugged myself. I didn’t even realize the dress was sheer, but now that he said it, I could feel my hard nipples poking through the white lace. I frowned. “Where are you dragging me off to this time?”
His gaze didn’t leave mine. “Just to the dining room. I could drag you, of course. But I think you’d enjoy that a little too much, and I don’t want to give you too much pleasure. Not until you beg for it.”
My lips tightened into a line as he took something off the hallway table, then offered me a simple, but expensive looking box. “Your dress is in there. Put it on and make yourself presentable. Then come out so we can get this over with.”
“Why?” I demanded. “I’d rather just stay here.”
“Do it,” he said. “And there might be a reward in it for you.”
I swallowed and accepted the package, closing the door myself. It felt like a luxury to be able to lock him out of my space, but I still hated how my body mourned the loss of his closeness. No matter how hard I tried to hate Leo Moretti, this stupid, hot and needy feeling crept into me every time he was near me.
Once alone, I ripped into the package. The light blue fabric slid out of the box like quicksilver. It was gorgeous - a design Papa would have deemed inappropriate for me. Something I’d stare at in a magazine, stroking the pages, wishing I could have something like it. I felt an immense rush of gratitude for The Serpent, but forced myself to replace it with more anger.
The dress was too soft. That was the first thing I noticed when I pulled it over my head, the fabric sliding down my skin like water, settling into place like it belonged there, like it knew my shape better than I did. It didn’t feel like something I had chosen. It felt like something I had been placed into. Like everything else in this stupid, luxurious penthouse, including the fact that Leo knew my size without ever asking me.
I adjusted the strappy dress slowly, fingers lingering at the fabric longer than necessary, grounding myself in the sensation, the texture, anything that wasn’t Leo Moretti and his overwhelming presence that made my heart go crazy.
In the closet, there were some pairs of shoes that would have gone beautifully with the dress, but I didn’t trust my ankle enough to wear heels after my unsuccessful escape attempt. I chose to go barefoot instead, telling myself it was another way to piss Leo off, and maybe make him change his mind about me. Let me go.
I still didn’t understand why I was locked up in his home. Why, out of all the gorgeous girls who would have been eager to climb into his bed, did he pick me? The only one unwilling to please him. Maybe this was all a game to him, but it was my life he’d taken, my reputation he’d ruined, and my body disobeying my mind every time he was near me. I hated him for it.
Once I’d brushed my hair and applied some light makeup that was waiting on the vanity, I stared at my reflection. I’d left my hair down, telling myself it was a form of rebellion against Papa. But my mind was screaming at me, saying I did it to please Leo Moretti. Angrily, I twisted the strands into a long braid. I wouldn’t do anything to please him. I was determined to make him dislike me enough to let me go back home.
I forced myself to leave the bedroom before I could lose my nerve.
The penthouse was quieter in the morning, the sharp edges of it softened by pale sunlight pouring through the massive windows. Still too expensive, and much too polished. Too much like Leo Moretti himself. Beautiful in a way that felt dangerous.
Leo stood near the end of the hallway waiting for me, already dressed in black slacks and a crisp button-down with the sleeves rolled to his forearms, exposing muscles inked with tattoos. His attention lifted slowly from his phone to me, dragging over every inch of my body with deliberate patience.
Heat crawled up my neck. His gaze lingered on the dress. The braid hanging over my shoulder, a direct fuck you to his orders, trying to make me wear it down. Then, his eyes finally lowered to my bare feet. His expression darkened slightly.
