Chapter 5 Chapter 5

I woke up to faint sunlight streaming through the oversized windows, the soft rustling of trees swaying in the morning breeze. My body still ached, the soreness from the surgery a dull throb beneath my ribs, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle. I’d been through worse. The sterile hospital room was gone, replaced with the cold elegance of the Moretti mansion. I pushed myself out of the plush bed, the silk sheets sliding off as I stretched and winced. The quiet stillness of the place was unsettling, like a house of secrets waiting to devour me.


But I couldn’t just lie here. That wasn’t me.


By midmorning, I found myself wandering the mansion halls, drawn by curiosity and an irrepressible need to know more about the prison I now lived in. Every corner was breathtaking, from the marble floors that gleamed like mirrors to the intricate chandeliers that looked as though they belonged in a palace. The workers greeted me with soft nods, murmuring, "Good morning, Mrs. Moretti."


Mrs. Moretti. The title left a bitter taste in my mouth every time I heard it. I didn’t even try responding, just kept walking, my jaw tight. That wasn’t my name. That wasn’t my life. I was only here to pay off my father’s debt, and yet here they were, calling me something that didn’t belong to me.


I wandered aimlessly until I found myself in the garden. If the mansion was imposing, the gardens were...enchanting. Rows upon rows of roses in every shade imaginable stretched out like a painter’s masterpiece. A small fountain trickled in the center, surrounded by carefully manicured hedges, while tall oaks provided shade and serenity.


I closed my eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply. For a second, just a second, I forgot where I was.


But then, in the distance, I saw him.


He was on a horse, of all things. His black suit jacket was gone, and his white dress shirt clung to him in a way that showcased every line of his muscular build. The horse trotted lazily beneath him, and he moved with the ease of someone born to command, his strong hands gripping the reins as though the beast itself bent to his will.


I froze, my breath catching in my throat. He looked like he belonged here, in this untouchable world of wealth and power. The sun glinted off his dark hair, and for a brief moment, he looked less like a man and more like a god carved from marble.


And then he saw me.


His sharp, silver-grey eyes locked onto mine, freezing me in place. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move under that gaze. It was as if he could see right through me, peeling back my layers and exposing every vulnerable thought I had. My skin prickled with cold under his scrutiny, and my heart hammered in my chest like it wanted to escape.


Why did he always make me feel this way?


I turned on my heel and made my way back toward the house, determined not to let him rattle me. He was just a man, a cruel, heartless man. That’s what I told myself as I stomped through the halls, trying to shake the feeling of his eyes on me.


It wasn’t until I stumbled across the library that my mood shifted.


The room was massive, with walls lined with bookshelves that reached the ceiling. There was a ladder on wheels, and sunlight spilled in through tall windows, catching the rich mahogany of the shelves. It smelled like leather, old paper, and something faintly woodsy—a scent that felt oddly comforting.


I smiled for the first time in days.


“Wow,” I whispered, trailing my fingers along the spines of books as I walked through the room. It was quiet, peaceful, and for a moment, it felt like I was a world away from everything.


One book in particular caught my eye. It was tucked on a higher shelf, bound in worn leather with a shimmering silver moon embossed on the cover. It looked ancient, like it belonged in a museum rather than a library.


Curiosity got the better of me.


I dragged the ladder over, the wheels squeaking softly against the floor, and began climbing. My ribs protested with sharp pain, but I bit my lip and ignored it. I needed to see that book. It felt...important.


I was nearly at the top when the ladder wobbled.


“Shit,” I hissed, gripping the sides as it swayed precariously. I tried to steady myself, reaching for the book, but the ladder tipped, and I felt myself falling.


My breath caught as I braced for the impact, but it never came.


Instead, I was enveloped in warmth, strong arms wrapping around me and holding me tightly against a broad chest. The scent of woodsy cologne filled my senses, and when I opened my eyes, I was staring into the steel-grey gaze of Alaric Moretti.


For a moment, the world stopped.


I couldn’t look away from him. His face was impossibly close, his sharp jawline and high cheekbones more defined in the soft light of the library. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—something raw, dark, and consuming.


“Do you have a death wish, Vanessa?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, with an edge that sent shivers down my spine.


I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry.


“I was fine,” I managed to whisper, though my voice trembled.


His eyes narrowed, and his arms tightened slightly around me, as if he didn’t believe me.


“Fine?” he echoed, his tone colder now. “You’re weak, sore, and yet here you are, climbing ladders like an idiot. Do you have no sense of self-preservation?”


I glared at him, the heat in his tone igniting something defiant in me.


“I don’t need you lecturing me,” I shot back, though the effect was lessened by the fact that I was still cradled in his arms.


His lips twitched, but it wasn’t quite a smile. More like a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes.


“You’re reckless,” he muttered, almost to himself.


I was about to snap at him when I noticed the way his eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to my lips for the briefest second before returning to meet mine. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with embarrassment.


For the first time since I met him, I didn’t feel fear. I felt...safe. Like I belonged in his arms, like this was where I was meant to be.


“Put me down,” I said, though my voice came out softer than I intended.


His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he was going to refuse. Then, without a word, he lowered me to the floor, his movements careful and deliberate.


But just as quickly as he appeared, he was gone. He turned on his heel and strode out of the library, his broad shoulders stiff and his fists clenched at his sides.


I stared after him, my heart pounding in my chest.


What the hell was that?


I touched my lips absentmindedly, the warmth of his arms still lingering on my skin. Whatever just happened between us, it was dangerous. He was dangerous.