Chapter 4 - Velvet Shackles
The morning sun broke through the floor-to-ceiling glass of the penthouse suite, painting the Italian marble in streaks of pale gold.
I sat on the edge of the sprawling king-sized bed, draped in a silk robe that cost more than six months of my rent. The silence of the mansion was deafening. After Nico departed into the rainy night, a team of silent, impeccably dressed maids had escorted me up here, catering to every unspoken need before vanishing into the shadows.
I hadn't slept a wink. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Victor’s sneering face—and then Nico’s burning silver eyes declaring war on the world for my sake.
Unable to sit still, I stood up and walked toward the bedroom door. The moment I turned the brass handle, two towering men in sharp charcoal suits snapped to attention in the corridor. Both wore discreet earpieces and bulges under their left armpits that left no doubt about what they were carrying.
"Good morning, Miss Bennett," the taller guard on the left spoke politely, though his posture remained rigid as steel. "Mr. Moretti requested that you remain inside the suite until his return."
"I just wanted some fresh air," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Or perhaps a walk in the gardens downstairs?"
"The perimeter is currently under elevated lockdown," the guard replied evenly. "For your safety, you cannot leave this floor."
A cold prickle of reality pierced my chest. The luxury, the silk, the intoxicating kisses—they were intoxicating, but the truth remained unyielding: I had traded one cage for another. The only difference was that this cage was lined with velvet and gold.
"And when is Nico coming back?" I pressed, crossing my arms over the silk robe.
"He is back."
A deep, commanding voice echoed from the end of the grand hallway. The guards immediately bowed their heads and stepped aside.
Nico walked toward me. He had changed into a fresh black shirt with rolled-up sleeves, revealing intricate dark tattoos wrapping around his forearms. He looked completely untamed, carrying a faint scent of rain and gunpowder that made my pulse quicken. Despite the exhaustion carved into the sharp lines of his face, his eyes fixed on me with relentless hunger.
"Dismissed," Nico muttered to the guards.
Without a sound, the guards retreated down the hall, leaving us alone in the sunlit corridor.
Nico stopped right in front of me, his gaze sweeping over my silk-clad form. A slow, dangerous smirk touched his lips. "You look dangerous in my silk, little waitress."
"Did you stop Victor?" I demanded, refusing to let his charm derail my racing thoughts.
Nico’s smile faded into something sharp and cold. He reached out, his warm, scarred fingers gently tilting my chin up. "Victor made a mistake. He tried to burn one of my warehouses to send a message. In return, I burned half of his operations to the ground."
My breath hitched. "Nico..."
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"He’s running like a rat in the sewers now," Nico said calmly, as if discussing the weather. "He can't touch you. But to ensure he never dares again, we need to show the entire syndicate where you stand. Tonight is the Fall Gala at the Bellini estate. You are going with me."
***
