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Chapter 5 - Chapter Six – Punishment

The ride back to the mansion was silent — except for the rain hammering the windows and Elena's heartbeat pounding in her ears.

Lorenzo hadn't said a single word. His jaw was tight, hands gripping the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the road. The storm outside looked calmer than the one burning inside him.

Elena sat beside him, soaked, shivering, but it wasn't the cold that made her tremble. It was the weight of his silence.

When the car finally stopped, the mansion loomed before them like a shadowed beast waiting to swallow her whole. One of the guards opened the door, but Lorenzo was already out, slamming it hard enough to make her flinch.

He didn't wait for her. He just walked straight inside.

She followed, her wet shoes leaving prints across the marble floor. The hall felt colder tonight — the fire unlit, the lights dim. It was as if the house itself was angry.

When they reached his office, Lorenzo turned sharply. "Inside."

She hesitated. "Lorenzo—"

"Now."

His voice was quiet, but it carried more threat than a shout ever could. She obeyed.

The moment the door closed behind them, the air grew heavy. Lorenzo took off his wet jacket and threw it aside. He stood there for a second, trying to calm himself — but when he turned, his eyes were blazing.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

Elena swallowed hard. "I just wanted to breathe."

He laughed bitterly. "To breathe? You call running into another man's arms breathing?"

"It wasn't like that!" she cried. "I didn't know who he was—"

"Of course you didn't," he cut in sharply. "You could've been killed, or worse. Do you even know who that man was?"

She shook her head.

"Emilio Santoro," Lorenzo said, his voice dark. "My enemy. The kind of man who sells women like you to the highest bidder."

Elena's heart sank.

"I saved you," he continued, stepping closer. "Again."

She lifted her chin, defiant despite the fear trembling through her. "You didn't save me. You just brought me back to another cage."

His jaw clenched. For a moment, he didn't move — then he closed the distance between them, his presence filling the room.

"Do you think this is a game, Elena?" he asked quietly. "Do you think I enjoy keeping you here?"

Her voice shook. "Then let me go."

"I can't."

"Why?" she demanded, tears burning her eyes. "Because you own me?"

His eyes softened for just a second, then hardened again. "Because the world outside will eat you alive. And because…" he hesitated, his voice lowering, "I don't trust anyone else with you."

The confession hit her like a blade — not love, not tenderness, but something darker. Possession mixed with protection.

"I don't need your protection," she whispered.

He exhaled sharply and turned away, pacing like a predator trapped in his own cage. "You think you do. You don't know what's out there, Elena. You don't know what men like me and Santoro are capable of."

"Then show me," she said suddenly. "Stop treating me like a child and tell me the truth."

Lorenzo stopped mid-step, looking over his shoulder at her. "You couldn't handle the truth."

"Try me."

The challenge hung in the air between them — fragile, dangerous.

For a moment, Lorenzo said nothing. Then he strode toward her, stopping inches away. His hand shot out, gripping her chin, forcing her to look at him. His touch was rough but not cruel.

"You want to know the truth?" he whispered. "Fine. Your father didn't sell you because of debt alone. He sold you because he owed me. He betrayed me years ago. Your mother's disappearance… wasn't an accident."

Elena's breath caught. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," he murmured, eyes darkening, "your family's hands aren't just dirty. They're soaked in blood — my brother's blood."

Her eyes widened. "Your— your brother?"

Lorenzo's jaw tightened. "He trusted your father. Worked with him. And your stepmother set him up. They thought they could take everything from me."

He released her suddenly, stepping back like her nearness burned him. "So when I took you, Elena, it wasn't just business. It was payment."

The words broke something inside her.

"So I was revenge," she whispered.

He didn't answer.

Tears slid down her cheeks. "You're just like them."

Lorenzo's eyes flickered with guilt — just for a heartbeat — before his walls went back up. "Maybe I am. But unlike them, I don't lie about what I am."

He turned away again, his voice cold. "You'll stay in this house. You'll eat, you'll rest, and you'll stop running. If you disobey me again…"

She met his gaze, trembling. "What? You'll hurt me?"

He paused. "No," he said quietly. "But I might hurt someone else because of it."

The truth in his tone chilled her more than any threat.

When he left the office, slamming the door behind him, Elena sank to the floor, her chest heaving. Every word he said replayed in her mind like poison — her father's betrayal, her mother's disappearance, Lorenzo's revenge.

Somewhere deep inside her, anger began to burn through the fear.

She wasn't a pawn. She wasn't payment.

And one day, she'd prove it — even if it meant standing against the devil himself.

Outside, the storm finally passed. The moon broke through the clouds, pale and distant, watching over the mansion where two broken souls had begun a war neither of them could ever win.

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