Elena's pulse pounded in her ears.
She needed to get out of here.
Now.
Alessio stood too close, his body radiating heat, his silver-gray eyes locked onto hers like he could see every frantic thought running through her head.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay calm.
"You don't own me," she whispered, her fingers tightening around the doorknob.
Alessio tilted his head slightly, studying her—like a predator watching its prey decide whether to fight or flee.
And then he smiled.
Slow.
Dark.
Like she had just said something amusing.
"Elena," he murmured, his fingers brushing down her bare arm.
She jerked away from his touch, her heart slamming against her ribs.
"Don't," she snapped. "Last night didn't mean anything. I don't even know you."
Alessio exhaled softly, almost like he was disappointed.
Then—
"I wouldn't open that door if I were you."
A cold shiver ran through her.
She glanced between him and the exit, uncertainty creeping into her gut.
"What are you talking about?" she demanded.
Alessio didn't move.
Didn't blink.
And somehow, that was worse.
"Go ahead," he said smoothly. "Walk out. See what happens."
Elena's throat dried.
Was he bluffing?
No.
Every instinct in her body told her that Alessio never bluffed.
But she refused to stand here and let him intimidate her.
Without another word, she yanked the door open—
And froze.
Two men stood outside.
Dressed in black, arms crossed, unmistakably armed.
Waiting.
Elena's stomach dropped.
She took an instinctive step back, her pulse thundering.
She whipped around to face Alessio, panic rising.
"What the hell is this?" she demanded.
Alessio leaned lazily against the edge of the bed, watching her with calm amusement—like he had already known she wouldn't get far.
Like he had set this up.
"It's for your own safety," he said smoothly.
"My safety?" she choked out. "I don't need protection! I need to leave."
Alessio didn't react.
Instead, he strolled toward her, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world.
"Elena." His voice was gentle. Too gentle.
She took a step back.
Then another.
Her spine hit the wall.
Alessio reached out, his hand brushing her cheek—so soft, so deceivingly tender.
"You don't understand," he murmured.
Her breath shuddered.
"Understand what?"
His fingers traced her jaw, tilting her face up toward his.
Then—his lips brushed against her ear, his next words sending ice down her spine.
"You were never supposed to leave this room alive."
A cold, terrifying silence filled the air.
Elena's entire body locked up.
Her knees almost buckled.
Her breath hitched, coming too fast, her vision swimming—
No.
No, no, no.
She didn't know what he meant.
She didn't want to know.
But something inside her screamed that last night had been more than just a mistake.
She wasn't just waking up in a stranger's bed.
She wasn't just tangled in something dangerous.
She was trapped in something far, far worse.
And the man who had just spent the night ruining her…
Might be the same man who was supposed to kill her.