Chapter 3 - THE SECRET BENEATH THE FLOORBOARDS (CHAPTER 5 IN SEQUENCE)
The silence in the penthouse was absolute, broken only by the distant hum of city traffic floating up sixty floors through the triple-paned glass.
Elizabeth stood frozen against the locked elevator doors, her chest heaving as Alessandro closed the distance between them. He stopped just a foot away, towering over her, his tall, athletic frame blocking out the glittering Chicago skyline behind him.
“You lock me in?” her voice trembled, a mixture of raw fear and sudden, defensive fury sparking in her chest. “You brought me here against my will and locked the doors? What kind of monster are you?”
Alessandro didn't flinch at the insult. His amber eyes remained steady, cool, and calculating.
“I locked the elevator because I knew the second my attention drifted, you would bolt,” he said calmly, reaching out to place one hand flat against the glass wall right beside her head, effectively caging her in. “You have a habit of running away, Emma. First from the hotel suite at dawn, now from this conversation.”
“I have a life!” she fired back, her hands balling into tight fists at her sides. “I have a roommate who worries about me, a job that pays my rent, and classes I need to attend! You can’t just play God with people’s lives like pieces on a chessboard!”
“Watch me,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, carrying a quiet, terrifying certainty that made her blood run cold.
He leaned in closer, his face inches from hers. She could smell the faint, intoxicating trace of cedar and coffee on his skin.
“You think you’re ordinary,” Alessandro whispered, his gaze dropping to her lips before flicking back up to her eyes. “You think you’re just another girl from a diner who got swept up in a billionaire’s orbit for one night. But every instinct I have tells me there is a fortress built behind those eyes of yours. And I want to know what you’re hiding.”
Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat. He suspects something.
If he kept digging—if he looked into her background, her fake employment history, her past—he wouldn't just find out her name was Elizabeth instead of Emma. He would find out about the tragedy that destroyed her family, the corporate scandal her father was wrongfully scapegoated for before he died, and the powerful enemies still hunting for the remaining pieces of her father’s estate.
If Alessandro Vitali discovered that, her pregnancy would become the least of her problems. She would be a liability. And in Alessandro’s world, liabilities were eliminated.
“I’m not hiding anything,” she lied, her voice cracking slightly under the pressure of his gaze. “I’m just tired. I want to go home.”
Alessandro studied her face for a long, agonizing moment, searching for a fracture in her armor. Then, slowly, his expression softened just a fraction. He dropped his hand from the wall, stepping back.
“Alright,” he said unexpectedly.
Elizabeth blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“You want to go home?” Alessandro turned toward the kitchen island, picking up a sleek remote control and clicking it.
Bzzzt.
The biometric scanner above the elevator doors flashed green. The heavy doors slid open with a soft, pneumatic hiss.
May you like
“The car is waiting downstairs,” Alessandro said, walking over to grab his wool overcoat from the sofa. “It will take you back to your apartment. But don’t mistake this for an abandonment of my pursuit, Emma. I always get what I set my sights on. Always.”
Elizabeth didn't wait for him to change his mind. She didn't say goodbye, she didn't offer a thank you. She sprinted into the elevator, shoved her finger against the lobby button, and watched the doors close with immense, shaking relief as Alessandro’s tall figure vanished from view.
