No Escape from His Gilded Cage

Alessio's POV

Eleonora Greco refuses to leave my fucking thoughts for fourteen straight days. Once Larry compiles every traceable detail about her, I have Matteo delivered to me. That fucker eagerly supplies every missing piece of information with shameless speed. It's obvious the man holds no loyalty whatsoever to his family.

But I don't base my understanding solely on Matteo's account. I need to confirm the facts from her own lips. I know she's too terrified to even attempt lying directly to me.

I observe her as a breeze catches strands of her hair. Even with her soft brown eyes shimmering with raw fear, she doesn't drop her gaze. She displays more backbone than her treacherous stepbrother, who essentially presented her to me as a packaged settlement for his fucking debts.

I made it explicitly fucking clear I would end him with my own hands if he whispered a single word of this arrangement to her while I was still considering it.

It aggravates the living fuck out of me how readily Matteo offers Eleonora's untouched state as transactional currency. She is worth infinitely more than a mere three hundred thousand dollars. She is worth more than his entire pathetic existence.

What truly enrages me is the knowledge that he has sufficient capital parked in stock market investments to cover what he owes, yet he chooses to sacrifice her instead. That fucker is willing to sell her virtue now, then pawn her off at twenty-five to some second-rate man who doesn't mind used goods.

I discover the reason for his timing-she gains control of her inheritance at twenty-five. Matteo undoubtedly wants that money as well, the greedy piece of shit.

It infuriates me.

Looking at this woman who has intruded upon my mind more than I care to acknowledge, her complete innocence is unmistakable. When Larry investigated her background, he found nothing. Not a single fucking mark against her name.

Every single Sunday she pours coffee and tea after Mass concludes. She delivers pots of homemade soup and meals to ailing parishioners. In the world I command, a woman this untainted is a fucking rarity. And I have always possessed an appreciation for acquiring rare and unique possessions.

Her tongue flicks out nervously to wet her lips, and the action draws my focus directly to her mouth. I would stake my entire fucking fortune that no man has ever kissed her. Completely captivated, I murmur, "Has a man ever kissed you before?"

Her eyebrows knit together as a deep blush spreads from her neck to her cheeks. Christ, she is so fucking innocent that a simple question about kissing makes her flush with embarrassment.

She gives a slight, tight shake of her head, and I can see the visible strain it requires for her to maintain eye contact with me.

I eliminate the space between us until only a breath separates us, leaning in to inhale her scent. She smells of warm vanilla and baking bread-a scent that makes my mouth fucking water instantly-underlaid by something delicate and floral, like spring blossoms. "See you soon, piccola coniglietta."

Calling her "little rabbit" feels instinctively correct. As I turn and walk away, I feel the intense heat of her frightened stare burning into the space between my shoulder blades.

Eleonora Greco may come from an insignificant family, but she possesses the one thing no one else in my community can offer me-absolute, unbroken purity.

Matteo is in for a severe fucking surprise because my intentions extend far beyond merely taking her virginity. If I claim her, I will marry the most beautiful woman in Los Angeles. She will warm my bed at night and bear my legitimate heirs. And finally, Uncle Lorenzo will have to cease his relentless fucking nagging on the subject.

To be completely honest, the state of marriage itself means very little to me personally. The entire notion of romantic love has never held the slightest appeal. But the prospect of owning this particular beautiful woman... that is undeniably tempting.

"Are we departing, boss?" Joey inquires as I approach him and Larry.

"Yes." I walk to the SUV with blacked-out windows and settle into the back seat. "Drive me to the club first. Then bring Matteo Greco directly to my office."

"Understood, boss," Larry responds while Joey starts the vehicle's engine.

During the drive to the heart of West Hollywood, where my club, Elysian Reverie, is located, my mind becomes completely saturated with the strategic opportunity laid before me. Before I ever saw Eleonora, I didn't give two shits about getting married. I acknowledged I would eventually take that step, but there was no sense of urgency whatsoever.

There remains no true urgency now.

However, the thought of having that beautiful little rabbit warming my bed is simply too advantageous a prospect to ignore. I will possess something no other man has ever laid a finger on.

The corner of my mouth lifts in a faint, cold smile, but the expression vanishes instantly when I consider Matteo. I am not known for offering second chances, but a deeply sadistic part of me desires to toy with that fucker as if he were a trapped mouse. I want to observe exactly how far he will debase himself before I finally end him.

When Joey brings the SUV to a halt at the club's entrance, Larry escorts me inside before returning to the vehicle to execute my order. Elysian Reverie is closed for business on Sundays, so aside from a couple of maintenance staff cleaning the premises thoroughly, the place is shrouded in quiet.

I proceed directly to my private office to personally verify the financial deposits logged over the past week. I employ people to handle nearly everything for me, but when it comes to money-the lifeblood of this entire operation-I do not trust a single soul.

Beyond the strip club and the attached casino, I own and operate a fleet of cargo ships that transport prohibited merchandise across global waters. Daniele manages the intricate scheduling for that fleet, while Frank ensures no serious trouble erupts here at the club.

He also oversees the restaurant and casino operations. Sunday is Frank's sole contracted day off, so I don't even bother checking if he is present in his own office.

I consider Frank an excellent candidate to eventually manage our Sicilian interests on my behalf when my uncle retires. Consequently, I must begin considering another individual whom we can carefully train to eventually succeed Frank here. It will not be an easy decision to make, because besides maintaining necessary alliances with the heads of the other four families, I genuinely trust only four men: Daniele, Frank, Larry, and Joey. I keep my inner circle deliberately small because, in my book, that is the only reliable method to stay alive.

A firm knock sounds at my office door before Larry enters, followed closely by a thoroughly terrified Matteo, who looks as though he hasn't slept a wink since our last conversation. His haggard appearance immediately reminds me of the deep exhaustion I saw etched on Eleonora's face.

Larry gives the fucker a solid shove forward. Matteo stumbles awkwardly and comes to a staggering halt directly in front of my imposing desk. I lock my eyes on him with pure, undiluted disgust, while his own pleading gaze is overflowing with abject terror.

The most straightforward solution flashes through my mind: I could kill him right now and simply take Eleonora. The clarity of that option is almost appealing in its simplicity.

My tone drops, laced with quiet, unmistakable danger. "If I decide Eleonora belongs to me, you will not interfere in any aspect of her life. Is that perfectly clear?"

Confusion flickers briefly across his face before it is swiftly replaced by a wave of profound relief. "So... you are agreeing to take her... and in exchange, the three hundred thousand is wiped clean from my name?"

I stare at him, letting the silence stretch and thicken until he looks genuinely ready to piss himself in fear. "I have not yet reached my final decision. But you should understand this: if you breathe so much as a single word of this discussion to her, it will constitute the very last action you ever take. Consider that your sole and final warning."

"O-of c-course, absolutely," he stammers, his head bobbing in frantic agreement. "I'm not a complete fool. The absolute last thing I want is for her to get some wild idea about running away from all this."

I frown, studying him with detached curiosity. "Is that a legitimate concern? Do you believe she is actually capable of that?"

His nods vigorously. "Ever since she was a young teenager, she's harbored these... ridiculous, childish dreams. Living in some obscure small town, in a little house with a white picket fence, married to some gentle, perfect husband. Wedding rings engraved with both their names. She's been saving herself explicitly for that specific fantasy." He delivers this explanation with a palpable sneer, as if her humble aspirations are personally insulting to him.

My gaze hardens into ice at his obvious derision. If she becomes my wife, her world will consist of fortified estates and limitless resources, not some quaint, pathetic fucking picket fence. "What other aspirations does she hold?" I demand, my voice leaving no room for evasion.

He shrugs, his expression dismissive. "The usual sentimental nonsense. She wants to be a mother someday."

Good. That piece of information slots neatly into my planning. That, I can provide for her.

I wave my hand in a brusque, dismissive gesture. Larry is already in motion, his large hand closing firmly around Matteo's upper arm to physically steer the man out of my office.

Once I'm alone again, I find myself staring at the spreadsheet on my laptop, but the numbers blur together in my mind. My thoughts are entirely consumed by the beautiful young woman who might soon be my wife.

Recognizing that she could easily slip away, I start to create a detailed plan. Since I can't let her know about the wedding in advance, I'll need to entice her to the ceremony under a cleverly devised pretext. Additionally, I want to ensure her stepbrother remains oblivious to my intentions of taking more from her than just her virginity. Once I have her positioned in front of the priest, surrounded securely by my men, any possibility of escape will be utterly eliminated. She will have no viable choice remaining but to marry me.

Do I feel any sense of moral unease about being prepared to systematically trick a woman into marriage?

No. Not one fucking bit.

In the territory I rule, I identify what I desire, and I take possession of it. Eleonora will learn. Obedience will become her new reality and her only safe harbor. In return for her compliance, her striking beauty, and the heirs she will provide me, she will live a life of unparalleled luxury and security. She will be responsible for raising our children within the safety of a fortress, entirely insulated from the grim reality that produced a man like her stepbrother. She will have a defined purpose, and I will have secured a possession of unique value.

With the decision now solidified in my mind, the corner of my mouth lifts once more in a cold, satisfied curve.

Soon, very soon, the little rabbit and the entirety of her untouched innocence will belong to me. Permanently. Completely. Irrevocably. She will be mine in every sense that matters.