The mansion gates opened slowly.
Elena had seen those gates every day since arriving at the estate—towering iron bars that separated Lucian from the rest of the city.
Tonight, for the first time, she was leaving through them.
The black car waiting outside was sleek and intimidating, its polished surface reflecting the dim evening lights of the estate.
But it wasn't alone.
Two more black vehicles waited behind it. Security.
Lucian's men. Wherever Lucian Moretti went, protection followed.
Marco opened the rear door with an exaggerated gesture
.
"Your chariot, signorina."
Elena narrowed her eyes at him but stepped inside.
The interior smelled faintly of leather and expensive cologne. Soft lights glowed along the edges of the doors, and the seats were so comfortable they almost felt unreal.
Lucian entered the car beside her moments later.
Even seated, his presence filled the space. She caught the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of tobacco.
The door shut with a soft click.
Outside, Matteo spoke briefly with one of the guards before climbing into the vehicle behind them.
The convoy began to move.
The black car rolled forward smoothly, passing beneath the tall iron gates of the Moretti estate.
Elena turned slightly, watching through the rear window as the gates slowly closed again.
It felt good leaving the mansion, even if it was for something else. At the very least, it was no longer surrounding her like a cage.
But somehow…
Sitting beside Lucian made her feel more cautious.
Marco sat in the front passenger seat, lazily scrolling through his phone while the driver navigated the winding road leading away from the estate.
Another black car followed behind them.
Lucian's men. Always watching. Always ready for any surprise attack.
No one spoke for several minutes.
The silence stretched long enough that Elena finally sighed.
"So," she said lightly, "do you normally take your prisoners out for evening drives?"
Marco snorted.
Lucian didn't even look at her.
"You are not a prisoner."
"You said I was three hours ago."
Lucian finally turned his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting hers.
"You have a remarkable memory."
"I have a problem with people who don't let me do what I want."
Marco glanced back at them with a grin.
"I'm enjoying this."
Lucian ignored him.
Elena crossed her arms.
"Where are we going?"
"Milan."
Her eyebrows lifted.
"The city?"
"Yes."
"And you're just casually taking me there?"
Lucian's voice remained calm.
"Caruso's men were watching the estate."
"And that makes you want to go into public?"
Marco laughed softly.
"Actually, it makes perfect sense."
Elena looked at him.
"How?"
Marco leaned back comfortably in his seat.
"If someone is watching you, sometimes the best move is to act like you have nothing to hide."
Lucian added quietly,
"And to control what they see."
Elena studied him carefully.
"You're using me."
Lucian met her gaze without hesitation.
"Yes."
At least he was honest.
The convoy eventually entered the busy streets of Milan.
The city was alive.
Golden lights glowed from restaurant windows. People filled the sidewalks. Couples walked hand in hand, tourists laughed near fountains, and the warm evening air carried the scent of coffee, perfume, and street food.
Elena watched everything with quiet fascination.
It felt surreal.
Just hours ago she had been inside a secret archive room surrounded by criminal files.
Now she was watching strangers laugh over wine outside cafés.
Two completely different worlds.
Lucian noticed her gaze drifting across the city.
"You like Milan."
"It's beautiful."
He nodded slightly.
"It is also dangerous."
She didn't even look at him, but he knew she had just rolled her eyes.
"Everything in your life seems to be dangerous."
Lucian didn't argue.
The car slowed near a quiet street lined with elegant cafés and small boutiques.
The driver stopped smoothly.
Marco stepped out first, scanning the street casually, though Elena noticed how his eyes moved carefully across every corner.
Then Lucian stepped out and opened Elena's door.
She hesitated for only a moment before stepping onto the sidewalk.
The city air felt different. Free and alive but also unfamiliar.
Lucian stood beside her, tall and composed, his dark shirt, black pants, and gloves drawing subtle attention from passersby.
People noticed him easily,
Elena could see it—the way they glanced at him. effortlessly drawing people's attention with how much he stands out.
It was like he carried an invisible gravity around him.
Marco gestured toward a nearby café.
"Lunch?"
Lucian nodded.
They walked inside.
The café smelled of fresh coffee and warm pastries.
Soft music played in the background.
Elena almost forgot how dangerous these men really were. Almost.
They sat near the window.
Marco immediately ordered an espresso.
Lucian glanced at Elena.
"What would you like?"
She shrugged.
"Something normal."
Marco laughed.
"Wrong table for that."
Lucian ordered in Italian to the waiter.
The man nodded respectfully and left.
Elena noticed that.
"You didn't even look at the menu."
"I come here often."
Marco added casually,
"The owner owes Lucian a favor," Marco said.
Elena frowned.
"What kind of favor?"
Marco smirked.
"The kind that keeps a business open."
Outside the window, Elena noticed a man standing across the street.
He wasn't doing anything unusual.
Just leaning casually against a wall.
But something about him felt off.
She looked again.
He wasn't looking at the street.
He was looking at the café.
More specifically—Watching them.
Her stomach tightened and she became extremely tense.
"Lucian." her voice was strained.
He looked up.
"Yes?"
"There's a man outside."
Lucian didn't turn his head.
"What about him?"
"I think he's watching us."
Lucian remained completely calm.
Marco casually sipped his espresso.
After a moment Marco muttered quietly in Italian.
"Lo vedo."
Elena frowned.
"What did he say?"
Lucian finally looked at her.
"He said he sees him."
Her pulse quickened.
"And?"
Lucian's expression didn't change.
"And now we see what he does next."
Elena glanced toward the window again.
The man was still there watching them.
And suddenly the peaceful café felt far less safe.
Because the man outside had just started walking toward the door.