Chapter 5 Beneath the surface.

The moonlight streamed in through the floor-length windows, casting silver shadows across the marble floor of the Salvatore estate. Elena sat on the edge of the oversized bed, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, chin tucked in as if trying to disappear into herself. The luxurious silk nightgown clung to her skin like a second layer, but it did nothing to shield her from the chill she felt deep in her bones.

She hadn't spoken to Lorenzo since their encounter in the library earlier that day. His words still echoed in her head.

"You're mine now, Elena. That's not a threat-it's a promise."

She hated him for that. Hated him for the way her body betrayed her, tingling with a mixture of fear and something far more dangerous-desire.

The door creaked open.

She snapped her head toward it, heart slamming against her ribcage. Lorenzo stood in the doorway, dressed in a black shirt that was unbuttoned just enough to show a scar trailing down his collarbone.

"I knocked," he said casually. "You didn't answer."

"That's probably because I didn't want to see you."

His eyes flared for a moment, but he said nothing. Instead, he stepped inside and closed the door behind him with a soft click. The sound was final. Trapping.

"You're not a prisoner, Elena," he said, as if reading her thoughts.

"Could've fooled me."

He moved toward her, slow and controlled. Elena stood, her back straightening like a steel rod. "Don't come any closer."

He stopped just a few feet away, his gaze raking over her face. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I don't believe you."

He chuckled-low, amused, and cold. "No. You don't. But you will."

Scene Break: Hidden Agendas

In another wing of the mansion, Matteo, Lorenzo's second-in-command, leaned against the wall outside the security room, smoking a cigarette. Inside, a man in a headset panned through camera feeds.

"There's something you should see," the technician muttered.

Matteo leaned over the monitor. The camera showed Elena sneaking down the corridor last night-toward the west wing. Lorenzo had locked that area for a reason.

He narrowed his eyes. "Zoom in."

The footage showed Elena slipping something into her gown-a key she must have stolen from Lorenzo's office.

"Shit," Matteo whispered, stubbing out the cigarette. "She's not as helpless as she looks."

Back in the Room

Lorenzo sat in the velvet chair across from Elena, his elbows on his knees.

"I had no choice," he said, quietly.

"No choice but to kidnap me? That's what you tell yourself at night?" Her voice cracked. "You think this is okay because you didn't put a gun to my head?"

"I'm trying to protect you, Elena."

She laughed, bitter. "By holding me hostage?"

"There are worse men out there than me. Men who would kill to get what you have."

"What do I have, Lorenzo?!" she snapped. "What is it you're really after? What is my father hiding that's worth all of this?"

He hesitated. That hesitation was everything.

"He took something from my family," he finally said. "Something that belonged to the Salvatores. Something sacred."

"Then go after him, not me!"

"I tried," he said. "He disappeared. You were the only leverage I had left."

"So that's all I am to you? Leverage?"

He didn't answer. Silence roared between them like a thunderstorm.

---

Later That Night

Elena waited until Lorenzo left. She knew he'd stay out late-his meetings with arms dealers always went into the early hours. She slipped from her bed, barefoot and silent. The floor was cold under her feet as she tiptoed to the closet and retrieved the key she had stolen.

She remembered the corridor from earlier. The west wing.

She darted through the halls, her heart racing like a wild stallion. The key fit the lock. The door creaked open to reveal dust-covered furniture, old portraits, and cobwebs.

But in the center of the room was a steel safe.

And beside it... a photograph.

Her heart stopped.

It was a photo of her mother. Not just with her father.

With Lorenzo's father.

Smiling. Arms wrapped around each other.

A scribble on the back: For Lorenzo. She's yours now. Protect her.

---

Cut to: Lorenzo's Car

Lorenzo's phone buzzed. Matteo's voice crackled over the line.

"She found it."

Lorenzo closed his eyes. "Damn it."

"You gonna tell her?"

"I have no choice now."

---

Back in the Mansion

Elena sat on the floor, the photograph clutched in her trembling hands. Her mother had known the Salvatores. Known them intimately. Why hadn't anyone told her?

The door behind her slammed shut.

She gasped and turned.

Lorenzo stood there, fury written in every line of his body.

"You weren't supposed to see that."

Tears welled in her eyes. "What is this? What the hell is going on?!"

He moved toward her slowly. "Your mother was promised to my father. She ran off with yours instead."

She stared at him, shaking. "So this... this is revenge?"

"At first," he admitted. "But not anymore."

He knelt in front of her, reaching for her hand. "I don't want to hurt you. I want you to understand why you're here."

"I don't care why," she whispered. "I want out."

"I can't let you go, Elena."

"Then you're just like your father."

He flinched as if she'd slapped him.

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out from the corridor.

Lorenzo sprang to his feet, drawing his weapon.

"Stay here," he ordered.

But before he could reach the door, it burst open-

-and standing there, bleeding from the shoulder, was her father.

"Don't trust him, Elena," he gasped. "He's not who you think he is. And neither am I."

Elena stood frozen.

Because behind her father...

...was a man she'd never seen before. Cold eyes. Greying beard.

"Hello, Elena," the stranger said with a smile that sent chills down her spine. "It's time we finally met."