8: A Taste of Freedom
Isabella’s POV
Then, without another word, he was gone again.
And I was left alone, trembling, aching, and so, so lost.
Luca left me burning.
I curled beneath the silk sheets, my body aching, unsatisfied, desperate. Every inch of me pulsed with a frustration I couldn’t shake. My skin felt too tight, too hot, as if it no longer belonged to me.
I hated him.
Hated the way he had teased and tormented me, how he had touched me just enough to drive me mad—only to stop. How he had whispered sinful promises against my skin, only to pull away before delivering on them.
I wanted to claw at him. To scream.
But more than anything…
I hated how much I wanted him to come back.
I clenched my thighs together, pressing my face into the pillow.
No. I wouldn’t let him win.
I wouldn’t let him turn me into this—a creature of need, of craving, of something dark and unfamiliar.
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The Plan to Escape
I had to get out.
It wasn’t just about running from Luca.
It was about escaping myself—escaping the way my body was changing, the way my cravings were no longer human.
This wasn’t normal.
This wasn’t just lust.
Something inside me was shifting, awakening, stirring like a beast beneath my skin.
I had never felt this before.
Not desire. Not hunger.
Something else. Something unnatural.
I shoved the thoughts away, forcing myself to focus.
I wasn’t stupid. Luca had guards. The penthouse was a fortress, with thick glass windows, coded locks, and security that made breaking into a bank look easy.
But I’d been watching.
Every night, at exactly 2:17 AM, the security system reset for precisely ninety seconds.
That was my window.
I had one shot.
And I was taking it.
The moment the guards changed shifts, I moved.
Silent.
Swift.
The silk robe I wore fluttered around my ankles as I crept through the darkened hall, my bare feet skimming over the marble floors. My heart pounded, every beat loud in my ears as I slipped past the first security camera, knowing the blind spots by heart.
Luca thought he had me caged.
But he didn’t know me as well as he thought.
I reached the main door, fingers flying over the keypad.
Come on, come on.
The numbers flashed red—then green.
I didn’t wait. I shoved the door open and ran.
Down the stairs.
Through the empty halls.
Out into the night.
The cold air hit me like a slap, searing into my lungs. But I didn’t stop.
I ran.
Faster, faster—bare feet slapping against the pavement, breath tearing through my chest.
I was free.
Or so I thought.
I barely made it two blocks before I felt it.
A presence.
Something fast. Inhuman.
The hair on my arms stood on end, a primal instinct screaming at me to run.
I sucked in a breath and whirled around—
Luca was already there.
Leaning lazily against a sleek black car, hands in his pockets, head tilted slightly as he watched me.
Waiting.
My pulse slammed against my ribs.
I skidded to a stop, lungs burning, heart hammering so hard I thought it might crack open.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
He just stared.
And somehow, that was so much worse.
The air between us was thick, charged with something dark and dangerous. My body trembled—not from fear, but from something far more insidious.
Then—he moved.
Too fast.
Before I could turn, before I could take another breath—
Luca was on me.
-----------------------------
The Price of Running
I let out a sharp gasp as my back hit the car.
Luca’s hands braced on either side of me, trapping me between the cold metal and his solid, unyielding body.
His chest rose and fell in slow, measured breaths, but his silver eyes were anything but calm.
They burned.
Like liquid mercury, swirling with something fierce and possessive.
"Did you really think you could escape me, dolcezza?"
His voice was deceptively soft, a sharp contrast to the rough grip of his fingers as they skimmed my jaw.
I glared up at him, still panting. "Go to hell."
Luca chuckled, low and amused. "You’re obsessed with sending me there."
His fingers trailed down my throat, brushing over my pulse, feeling the wild beat beneath his touch.
"You ran," he murmured, his thumb ghosting over my bottom lip.
"That was a mistake."
I tried to shove him away, but he caught my wrists with ease, twisting them behind my back.
The motion arched my body into his, pressing every inch of me against the hardness of his form.
Heat bloomed between us.
My breath shook.
Luca’s smirk deepened.
"Tell me, dolcezza…" His lips hovered over my throat, just above the mark he’d left on me.
"Did you really want to escape? Or were you hoping I’d chase you?"
I gasped.
The worst part?
I didn’t know the answer.
----------------------
Luca’s grip tightened around my wrists, his breath hot against my cheek.
"You want punishment, bella?" His voice was a dark promise.
His thigh slid between mine, pressing just enough to make my breath hitch.
I clenched my jaw. "I want you to let me go."
His smirk was wicked. "Liar."
Before I could react, his hand struck my ass—once, twice—sharp, punishing.
I gasped, my body jerking from the sting.
"That," Luca murmured, fingers tracing the heat where he’d spanked me, "was for disobeying me."
Another slap.
"And that was for running."
I bit my lip, hating the way my body responded, the way heat coiled low in my belly.
Luca’s fingers tangled in my hair, yanking my head back just enough to meet his gaze.
"Are you ready to beg yet?" he whispered.
I hated him.
Hated the way my thighs clenched, the way my pulse pounded against his grip.
I lifted my chin, forcing myself to meet his gaze with all the defiance I had left.
"Never."
Luca chuckled, slow and dark.
"Then we’ll keep playing."
Before I could react, he swung me over his shoulder with effortless strength.
I shrieked, pounding my fists against his back. "Put me down, you psycho!"
He only chuckled.
"Welcome home once again, dolcezza."