Chapter 7: Beneath the Surface
Outside the towering gates of Luca's mansion, the black sedan screeched to a halt. The guards had forcefully pushed Asher and Janet's parents out, slamming the heavy iron gates shut behind them.
For a moment, silence settled among them. Asher's fists were clenched, his breathing erratic. Janet's father looked pale and disheveled, and her mother's sobs had dried into hardened fury.
Then the mask fell off.
"THAT WITCH!" her mother shrieked, throwing her hands into the air.
"She dared marry him? In front of us?" her father growled, grinding his teeth.
"She humiliated us," Asher spat, pacing like a trapped animal. "After everything I did, everything I planned—this is how she repays me?"
They stormed into Asher's apartment half an hour later, slamming the door behind them.
"Get me a drink," her father demanded.
Asher pulled out a bottle of red wine and three glasses. Without waiting, he poured and took a long swig straight from the bottle.
Her mother took hers and sat down, lighting a cigarette. "He had guns pointed at us. Guards ready to kill us."
"But she still said yes," Asher said darkly.
"She had no choice," her father muttered.
"Choice or not—" Asher paused, taking another drink, "—she's his now. And we've lost everything. The deal's broken. The man is going to kill us."
Her mother rubbed her forehead. "That man paid us an advance. A million. Do you know what he'll do if he finds out she's married?"
"He'll come after us," her father whispered.
Asher's expression twisted into pure rage. "We should've killed Luca when we had the chance."
Her mother stood abruptly, her cigarette trembling between her fingers. "Then we kill her. We kill Janet."
Asher's jaw clenched. He stared at her in silence. Then slowly, he nodded.
"We finish her before he finds out. Then we disappear. All of us."
Back inside the mansion, silence cloaked the walls of Luca's estate like a heavy fog. The night was cool, still. The moonlight seeped in through the grand windows.
Janet sat on the carpeted floor of Luca's bedroom. Her face buried in her arms, which lay draped over the velvet of the sofa. Her shoulders trembled slightly, though no tears fell. Her mind was a storm.
The door creaked open. Heavy footsteps followed.
Janet tensed, her breath catching.
Luca entered, stopping just behind her.
She slowly turned her head, eyes wide with fear.
"I'm not going to touch you," he said calmly. "Relax."
She blinked, unsure if she believed him.
"I won't do anything without your permission," he added. "You don't need to be scared of me in that way."
Her body relaxed slightly, though tension still lingered.
He nodded toward the door. "If this room makes you uncomfortable, you can rest in yours."
Janet hesitated. "I'm fine," she said quietly.
"You look like a ghost," he said bluntly.
She stood up slowly, brushing off her dress. "I'll go."
Without waiting, she walked past him and toward her room.
Luca stood still for a moment before turning and walking back to his own quarters.
Janet entered her room, shutting the door behind her. She sat on the edge of her bed, looking down at the ring on her finger. Her hand trembled as she reached for it, then stopped.
She didn't remove it.
She laid down slowly, her head on the pillow, eyes staring at the ceiling.
Thoughts raced through her mind—her mother's cries, her father's trembling voice, Asher's glare. Everything blurred together.
Why did they all hate her? Why was she always the one being used?
She turned to the side, curling into herself, hoping sleep would take away the pain. But sleep never came.
Meanwhile, across the hall, Luca lay on his bed staring up at the ornate ceiling.
His mind drifted back to high school.
He remembered the way they used to laugh at him. Throw his lunch away. Call him names.
He remembered hiding in the bathroom stall for entire lunch breaks. But then—he remembered her.
Janet.
The only person who stood up for him. Who smiled at him. Who told those boys to back off. The one who made him feel seen.
She had a boyfriend back then. Asher.
Luca had never stood a chance.
But he had watched. And helped her, in secret, for years. Every time she needed something, he was there—quietly.
And now she was here. Under his roof. His wife.
Even if she hated him for it.
He closed his eyes.
He had won. But it didn't feel like victory.
To be continued...