A Deal with the Devil

The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words. Alessia had made her decision. Or maybe—deep down—the decision had been made for her the moment she crossed paths with Damian Russo.

His smirk remained in place, sharp and victorious, as he studied her. "I had a feeling you’d stay."

Her spine stiffened. "Don’t flatter yourself. I’m only staying because I don’t have a death wish."

He took a slow step toward her, his presence overwhelming. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, princess."

Her jaw clenched. She hated how he always seemed to be a step ahead, always in control.

But staying didn't mean surrendering.

She lifted her chin. "If I stay, I want some ground rules."

His dark eyes flickered with amusement. "Ground rules?"

"Yes." She crossed her arms. "You don’t get to dictate every aspect of my life. I want my freedom within this estate. No locked doors. No bodyguards breathing down my neck every second."

Damian chuckled, the deep sound sending an uninvited shiver down her spine. "You think you're in a position to make demands?"

"I think you want me to stay willingly," she shot back. "And if that’s the case, you’ll respect my boundaries."

Something dark and unreadable passed through his gaze.

Then, to her surprise, he nodded. "Fine."

She blinked. "Fine?"

"You can have your space. But let’s get one thing straight, Alessia—I still own this world you’re living in. If I tell you not to do something, it’s not a suggestion. It’s a warning."

Her stomach twisted. Own this world.

Damian wasn’t just some dangerous man—he was THE dangerous man.

And she had just made a deal with him.

"Do we have an understanding?" he asked, his voice softer now, but no less powerful.

Alessia hesitated, then gave a slow nod. "For now."

His smirk returned. "Good girl."

Heat crept up her neck, but she refused to let him see how much those two words affected her.

The next morning, she woke up to an unfamiliar feeling. Peace.

No more running. No more looking over her shoulder.

But the moment she stepped out of her room, she was reminded that peace was an illusion.

Two guards stood at the end of the hallway, their eyes immediately flicking to her.

Her fists clenched. So much for "no bodyguards breathing down my neck."

She stormed downstairs, only to find Damian waiting for her in the dining room, sipping his coffee like he owned the world. Which, in many ways, he did.

"I thought we had a deal," she snapped.

He barely glanced up. "We did."

She gestured toward the guards. "Then what the hell is this?"

Damian set his cup down, his eyes locking onto hers. "Protection, Alessia. Not a cage."

Her heart pounded.

The problem wasn’t just the guards.

The problem was that she wasn’t sure if she was more afraid of the world outside these walls… or the man sitting across from her.

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