Ricardo had made up his mind. He and Elisa would stay at the Castillo penthouse in Bath for now. It was the safest option, far from Emiliano's reach. He would deal with his brother later. Right now, his focus was on her.
Not because of love. This wasn't about love.
It was about control. About securing what was rightfully his. His father's empire, his power, his wealth. And the only way to have it all was through Elisa.
Maybe he had confused his emotions with love. Maybe the adrenaline of rescuing her had made him feel something deeper than he should. She had been in danger because of him, after all.
That didn't mean he cared. Did it?
He pushed the thought away. Elisa was his responsibility, nothing more. He would make sure she adjusted to this life, and once everything was settled, he could decide what came next.
For now, he had a role to play. The perfect husband
Elisa stood in the middle of the massive penthouse, staring at the city lights beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. Everything about this place screamed wealth, power, and a life she never imagined for herself.
And yet, this was her reality now.
She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to shake the overwhelming feeling of uncertainty. What would happen to her dreams? Her freedom? Would she ever have a choice in her own life again?
This wasn't her decision. None of this was.
A soft knock on the bedroom door pulled her from her thoughts. A woman probably in her late forties, dressed in a neat uniform stepped inside with a polite smile.
"All your belongings have been arranged in the wardrobe, ma'am," she said gently. "Clothes, shoes, personal items… everything you need."
Elisa frowned. Her belongings?
She hadn't packed anything.
That meant Ricardo had done it all for her.
The housekeeper continued, "Mr. Castillo has asked that you take a shower, get changed, and join him downstairs for dinner."
Elisa swallowed, nodding slowly.
So this was it. The life she had been forced into had already begun.
Emiliano stormed into his mansion, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room. Blood. Bruised faces. Elisa was gone.
His chest tightened with rage. He knew Ricardo would come for her, but not like this. Not while he was away.
Justin stood beside him, tension radiating from his massive frame.
"Ricardo planned this," Emiliano muttered, his voice dangerously low. "He waited until I was out. That means "there's a rat in our midst," Justin finished, his expression grim.
Emiliano exhaled slowly, forcing himself to think. His hands curled into fists. "Make sure the injured are taken care of. When I return, we will deal with the traitor."
Justin gave a short nod and went to carry out his orders.
Emiliano glanced around one last time, his mind already calculating his next move. Ricardo may have taken Elisa, but this wasn't over.
He still had his father's strongest allies behind him. With their backing, he would take everything back which will start with her
Elisa stood at the top of the staircase, taking a steadying breath. Her fingers grazed the soft fabric of the sundress she'd found waiting for her delicate yellow sundress that fell far too cheerful for the chaos her life had become.
She ran a hand over her ponytail, trying to push away the thoughts swirling in her head.
She had spent the past few days terrified, trapped, uncertain of what her future held. Now, she was free of Emiliano, but somehow, she still felt… lost.
Slowly, she made her way downstairs, her bare feet light against the polished wood.
The dining room was dimly lit, the warm glow of the chandelier casting soft shadows across the long table. And there he was. Ricardo.
Seated at the head of the table, his dark eyes unreadable, his presence commanding.
Her heart did something strange in her chest.
The plates were set, the food untouched. Had he been waiting for her?
She hesitated, instinctively pulling back, choosing the farthest seat from him.
Ricardo barely lifted his gaze, but his voice was firm. "Here." He motioned to the seat beside him.
Elisa swallowed hard. She wasn't sure what unsettled her more was his authority or the fact that she obeyed it.
Without a word, she walked over and sat down.
A moment later, the housekeeper arrived, setting their plates before them. The rich aroma filled the air, making Elisa's stomach tighten painfully.
She hadn't eaten properly in days.
When the housekeeper left, silence stretched between them. The only sound was the clinking of silverware as she hesitantly took her first bite.
Then, Ricardo spoke.
"I'm sorry."
Elisa stilled.
"I never wanted you to get hurt," he said, his voice quieter than she expected. "Not by Emiliano. Not by anyone."
She turned slightly, looking at him. His expression was unreadable, but there was something there, it felt real.
"You're mine now," he added. "And that means no one will ever touch you again."
The words should have unsettled her.
They should have made her feel trapped.
But instead…
For the first time in days, she felt safe.