Four

Cassie :

I watched the steam curl from the untouched cup of tea on the coffee table. I didn’t make it, and I had no intention of drinking it. Something about drinking things handed to me in a stranger’s penthouse just felt… dangerous.

But everything about this situation felt so terrifying.

The place was too quiet. The kind of quiet that didn’t feel peaceful…it felt intentional. Like someone had designed it to be this way. To make people like me feel small.

It was early, though I had no idea what time exactly. I’d barely slept, just dozed in and out on a bed too soft, under sheets that smelled like old money. I wasn’t used to this. The luxury, the silence, and definitely the not-knowing.

The man who brought me here…Luca ,he hadn’t shown up all morning. Not since our tension-laced exchange the night before. He gave me nothing. No explanation. No apology. Just a tight command that I was to stay here and that I’d be “fine.”

Whatever that meant.

I paced the length of the living room. The marble floor was so clean I could see my reflection in it. I looked like a girl who didn’t belong. My sweatshirt was wrinkled, my hair a mess. I hadn’t even brought a change of clothes. Of course, I hadn’t….I didn’t exactly get to pack…. I was kidnapped.

I glanced toward the hallway that led deeper into the apartment. I hadn’t dared explore. There were staff…silent, brisk and I didn’t want to risk bumping into one of them and being reminded that this place wasn’t mine.

A soft sound made me freeze.

Footsteps.

Then Luca walked in.

Same fitted dress shirt from yesterday, sleeves rolled up, top button undone. He looked like he hadn’t lost a second of sleep.

Meanwhile, I’d spent the night running through every worst-case scenario in my head.

His eyes met mine briefly. Just enough to acknowledge me. Then he crossed to the far side of the room and poured himself a black coffee.

“You’re up early,” he said casually, as if this was normal. As if I was a guest. As if I hadn’t been dragged from my life like a pawn on a board I didn’t understand.

“Hard to sleep,” I replied, voice tight.

He stirred his coffee and looked out the window.

I watched him in silence. Studied him. The controlled movements. The calm exterior. Like nothing touched him.

“How long do you plan to keep me here?” I asked finally.

He didn’t look at me. “Not long.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting right now.”

I exhaled slowly, forcing my voice to stay level. “You know you can’t just take someone and expect them to stay quiet.”

He turned then, his gaze sharp but unreadable. “You’re not a hostage, Cassie.”

“No?” I folded my arms. “Then can I leave?”

He stared at me for a beat too long. “No you can't.”

I swallowed the panic rising in my chest. “You keep saying I’m not a hostage, but you won’t tell me why I’m here, or when I can leave, or what you want from me. You say I’m safe….but from what?”

Again, no answer.

Just silence.

He took a sip of coffee, calm as ever.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he said finally. “But I won’t let you leave until I’m sure you're not a threat to yourself—or to me.”

My jaw clenched. “You think I’m a threat?”

“I think you’re in a situation you don’t understand,” he said, voice low. “And right now, that makes both of us vulnerable.”

Vulnerable. That word rang oddly in my ears. He didn’t look vulnerable. He looked calm,like he could kill a man without blinking.

And yet, something about the way he said it… like it was personal.

“You think this is helping?” I said, gesturing around. “Keeping me in some penthouse like a prisoner while feeding me cryptic one-liners?”

“I’m protecting you,” he said simply.

“You have a messed-up definition of protection.”

He tilted his head. “You’ll thank me later.”

“I don't think so.”

He didn’t respond. Just finished his coffee, placed the cup down, and left the room without another word.

The silence returned the second he disappeared. But now, it wasn’t just uncomfortable—it was suffocating.

I sat down, stared at the untouched tea again, and tried to breathe.

Wondering who he really was.

I didn’t know why I was really here.

There was something darker beneath the surface.

And I was going to figure it out…before it was too late.