At 2:14 a.m., my door opens with a quiet knock.
I bolt upright in bed, heart slamming against my ribs, the thin sheets tangling around my legs as I scramble backward against the headboard.
My mind goes straight to Matteo—his amber eyes in the darkness, his hand on my throat, his whispered promises of what he could do to me.
The memory of his body pressing mine against the wall, the way he looked at me like I was something to be devoured.
I open my mouth to scream.
But it's Enzo who slips inside.
Why didn't I think of that right away? He always knocks. His usually composed face is tight with something I can't name—urgency, maybe, or warning.
He's still in his suit, even at this hour, though his tie is loosened and there are shadows under his eyes that weren't there before.
"Come," he says softly. "They're waiting."
"Who's waiting?" I clutch the sheets to my chest. "What's happening? Is something wrong?"
"The brothers." He doesn't elaborate. Just holds the door open, his expression carefully neutral. "Now, signorina. It's not wise to keep them waiting."
"At two in the morning? What could possibly—"
"Now."
Something in his tone stops my questions cold. I don't reach for shoes or a robe.
Just swing my legs out of bed and follow him barefoot down silent corridors, the marble cold beneath my feet, my thin nightgown offering little protection against the chill.
The silk barely reaches mid-thigh, and I'm acutely aware of how exposed I am. How vulnerable.
The house feels different at this hour. Darker. Older. Full of shadows that seem to breathe. Every creak makes me flinch. Every flicker of candlelight looks like eyes watching from the darkness.
"Enzo," I whisper as we walk. "What is this about? Please. Just tell me."
He glances at me, something flickering in his warm brown eyes. "It's not my place to say, signorina. But..." He hesitates. "Try to keep an open mind."
Before I can ask what that means, we stop before the library doors—massive oak panels carved with scenes I can't make out in the dim light. He gives me one unreadable look.
"Good luck," he murmurs. And then he's gone, melting back into the shadows like he was never there.
I push through alone.
The library is warm, a fire crackling low in the massive stone hearth, casting the room in shades of amber and gold. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves line every wall, leather spines gleaming in the firelight.
The smell of old paper and woodsmoke fills the air, almost comforting if I didn't know what waited inside.
But I barely notice any of it. My attention is fixed on the three men waiting for me.
Luca, Matteo, and Santo stand together near the fire—no masks tonight, no darkness to hide behind, no power plays with spotlights and shadows.
They look almost human like this. Shirts unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled to their elbows, hair slightly disheveled. Less like mafia kings and more like men who haven't slept in days.
It doesn't make them less dangerous. If anything, it makes them worse. More real. More present.
With a wave of his hand, Luca motioned for me to take the empty seat in the chair. This time I obeyed.
Luca cleaned his throat before starting. "My brothers and I discussed the current... situation. And we came to the conclusion that..."
"Deal's a deal, piccola." Matteo interrupted unceremoniously. "Money changed hands. Contracts were signed. And you will provide what you promised. One way or another."
"What Matteo means," Santo says, finally turning from the window, "is that we're still the best option you had that night. Believe it or not."
"And that's supposed to comfort me?"
"It's supposed to give you perspective," Luca replies.
He steps closer, and his brothers move with him, the three of them forming a dark semicircle around me. Not threatening, exactly. But inescapable.
I'm acutely aware of how small I am compared to them, how thin my nightgown is, how vulnerable I must look standing barefoot in the firelight.
"Here's how this works," Luca says, steel-gray eyes boring into mine. "You stay. You live here, under our protection, wanting for nothing. And when you're ready…"
He pauses, letting the weight settle. "You choose. Which one of us claims you."
The words don't compute at first. I blink, certain I misheard. "What?"
Matteo's grin widens, pure sin and satisfaction. "You heard him, piccola. No more waiting in silk cages. No more guessing games." He tilts his head, studying me like I'm something delicious he can't wait to taste. "You get to pick which brother takes you to bed."
"I don't understand." My voice sounds strange to my own ears. Distant. "You're giving me a choice? After everything you put me through?"
"We're giving you the only choice that matters," Luca says. "Stay. Learn who we are. And when you're ready, decide which of us you want."
"And if I don't want any of you?"
Matteo laughs softly. "Then you'll stay until you do."
"That's not a choice. That's just a different kind of prison."
"Every choice is a prison, piccola." His amber eyes gleam. "The only question is which cell you prefer."
"How long?" I ask. "How long do I have to decide?"
"As long as you need," Santo says quietly. "There's no deadline."
"Within reason," Luca adds, shooting his youngest brother a look. "We're patient men, Gianna. But not infinitely so."
My mind races, trying to find the trap, the catch, the cruelty hiding beneath this apparent generosity. They're giving me a choice? After everything—the auction, the captivity, the terror—they're handing me the power?
I look between the three of them. Luca with his cold precision, watching me like I'm a chess piece he's deciding how to play.
Matteo with his burning hunger, that predatory smile promising pleasure and pain in equal measure. Santo with his quiet intensity, those pale green eyes holding something I can't quite name.
Three predators offering me the illusion of control. Or maybe it's not an illusion. Maybe, for the first time since they stole me from my parents' doorstep, the power really is mine.
And that terrifies me more than any auction ever could.
But there's more than terror coiling in my stomach. There's something else—a suddenly awakened hunger for that power.
For the control they're offering. For the chance to finally be the one making decisions instead of having them made for me.
I straighten my spine, lift my chin, and meet Luca's eyes without flinching.
"And I... only have to choose one?"