Chapter 4. Den of lion
1128 Words
Alessandro hadn’t slept a wink in his bedroom that night. Instead, he’d found solace—or the closest thing to it in one of the guest rooms, where the silence gnawed at his thoughts like vultures circling a carcass.
He stared at the ceiling, his arms behind his head, his mind turbulent.
He hadn’t married Rose out of love. Not even out of necessity.
It had been a transaction. Cold. Calculated. Ruthless.
Her father had owed him billions—money he could never hope to repay in ten lifetimes. And when Alessandro had demanded collateral, the man hadn’t even flinched.
“Take her,” he had said, “Just take her. She’s yours.”
The words still rang in Alessandro’s ears. Like a curse.
No hesitation. No guilt. Just the smug smile of a greedy, selfish man throwing his daughter into the lion’s den to save his own neck.
And Alessandro? He hadn’t questioned it. He had taken the offer and walked straight into hell with it. He had told himself it was about ownership. Revenge. Power. He would break her in. Use her. She would be a pet in a gilded cage.
But she wasn’t what he expected.
She was too quiet. Too careful. Too untouched.
That night, when she had whispered “I’m a virgin,” something in him had cracked. Not out of pity, but out of rage.
Not at her. At everything else.
At her father, who should’ve protected her. At himself—for not realizing what kind of girl he had dragged into his world.
Sleep finally overtook him in the early hours of dawn, but it was restless. And short.
By morning, he returned to his bedroom, his steps slow and heavy. The door creaked open to reveal Rose moving quietly across the room, her damp hair cascading down her back in soft waves. She had already showered and was dressed modestly—fresh faced, clean, innocent.
She froze when she saw him standing in the doorway.
His voice was like a blade—cold and final.
“Don’t think you’re going back to that job,” Alessandro said.
Her breath caught. “What?”
“You heard me,” he replied, stepping into the room. “You’re not working under another man’s roof. Not anymore.”
She turned to face him, disbelief flickering in her eyes. “But… what do you expect me to do? Just sit here all day doing nothing? Please, let me go.”
“I’m not keeping you in chains,” he said with a shrug, his voice still devoid of emotion. “If you want to work, I own a dozen companies. I can have you managing any one of them by noon. Or you can sit here and shop all day. Your call.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off with a sharp look.
“I won’t repeat myself, Rose. No wife of mine will take orders from another man.”
Then he turned and walked out before she could say another word.
Alessandro stormed down the staircase, his mood already blackening like storm clouds gathering at sea. He was not a man who liked complications, and Rose was beginning to feel like one.
In the living room, he paused mid-step.
His eyes narrowed at the sight of the man lounging on his pristine white couch like he owned the place.
“Leonardo,” Alessandro said flatly. “To what do I owe the uninvited visit?”
His uncle stood up with a lazy smile, arms stretched wide.
“Alessandro, mio ragazzo! È passato troppo tempo! Mi hanno detto che ti sei sposato—e nemmeno un invito per tuo zio?”
(Alessandro, my boy! It's been too long! I heard you got married—and not even an invitation for your uncle?)
“I didn’t want you there,” Alessandro replied bluntly, his voice sharp and devoid of warmth. “That’s why you never got one.”
Leonardo chuckled, unbothered by the insult. “Still as charming as ever, I see.”
They both knew the truth: Alessandro had no love for his uncle. The man was a snake in tailored suits, always slithering into places he didn’t belong.
Leonardo’s smile widened as he held out a sleek black envelope. “I came with a gift. I just opened the largest casino in the city—Casinò di Venezia. Tomorrow night, we celebrate. Don’t miss it. The whole city will be watching.”
He tossed the envelope onto the coffee table and gave Alessandro a pointed look. “It would be a shame if you weren’t there.”
With a wink, he turned to leave, flanked by the two bodyguards who never left his side.
Alessandro didn’t move. He simply watched as the man walked out, a dark presence lingering in the room even after the door closed behind him.
His gaze dropped to the untouched invitation card on the table. It sat there like a trap. Gilded edges. Red wax seal.
Casinò di Venezia
He didn’t touch it. Just stared.
Then he barked for his men.
“Car’s ready, sir,” one said a moment later, appearing like a ghost at his shoulder.
“Let’s go,” Alessandro said, turning on his heel. “I’ve got business to take care of.”
Rose sat alone on the edge of the bed, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap.
She felt trapped.
This house was beautiful, but it was a cage—one made of gold and ice.
He hadn’t touched her last night, but the way he had looked at her… like she was something fragile, like she didn’t belong here. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or devastated by that.
She hadn’t wanted to marry Alessandro. She hadn’t even known him before her father had forced her into this nightmare. But something about the man—his presence, his eyes, the cold control—left her breathless and afraid… and something else. Something she didn’t dare name.
And now, she wasn’t even allowed to work.
Her job had been her only anchor to the world she once knew. A place where she was capable. Useful. Free.
She bit her lip hard, holding back tears.
It wasn’t the life she had imagined.
But it was the life she was trapped in.
And Alessandro? He might’ve spared her innocence last night, but that didn’t make him kind.
He was still the man who took her as payment. The man who now owned her name, her body, her freedom.
She just didn’t know why—when he held her, when he looked at her—that same cruel man felt like the only person who truly saw her.
- Writer
