Page 10 of Devil’s Embrace (31 Days of Trick or Treat: Biker & Mobster #10)

Emory

After breakfast, Luca placed his napkin beside his empty plate and made a slight gesture to a woman standing by the door. She approached silently, a plastic smile fixed on her face. "Clara will take Mina to the playroom now."

His tone made it clear this wasn't up for discussion. My body went rigid, panic flaring hot and immediate.

"No." I reached for Mina's hand under the table. "We stay together."

Luca's eyes hardened, though his expression remained neutral. "Mina deserves some fun after such a difficult night. The playroom has toys, games, even a small slide. It was designed for children."

"Whose children?" I asked before I could stop myself.

He ignored the question, turning to Mina instead. "Would you like to see the playroom? Clara can show you how all the toys work."

Mina looked between Luca and me, sensing the tension but not understanding it. "Can Mama come too?"

"Your mama and I need to talk about grown-up things," Luca explained, his voice softening in a way that still unnerved me. "But she'll join you soon."

Mina's face fell slightly, but then Clara mentioned something about a dollhouse with working lights, and her excitement returned. "Can I go, Mama? Please?" Her blue eyes, so like her father's, shone with eagerness that broke my heart. How could I deny her a moment of happiness in this nightmare?

"I..." I swallowed hard, knowing I had no actual choice. "Yes, sweet pea. You can go play for a little while. Mama will come find you very soon." I squeezed her hand, trying to infuse the gesture with all my love and reassurance.

"Okay!" She slid off her chair, allowing Clara to take her hand. "Bye, Mama! Bye, Mr. Luca!" She waved as she left the room, her blonde hair bouncing with each step.

The moment the door closed behind them, I rounded on Luca. "Don't you dare use her like that. Don't pretend to be kind to her when all you're doing is manipulating a child."

"I'm not pretending anything," he replied calmly, standing from his chair. "Children should be protected from the ugliness of adult matters. She's been through enough trauma. I see no reason to expose her to more."

"You're the one who caused that trauma!" I fought to keep my voice down in case Mina could still hear. "You kidnapped us! You killed a man in front of us!"

"And now we need to discuss how we move forward." He gestured toward the door. "My study is more appropriate for this conversation."

I remained seated, a small act of defiance. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what you want from us."

Luca didn't argue or threaten. He simply stood there, waiting, his patience making it clear he could outlast any resistance I offered.

After a full minute of tense silence, I pushed back from the table and stood.

My legs trembled slightly, but I forced myself to walk steadily as I followed him out of the dining room.

He led me through the mansion's labyrinthine corridors, past rooms glimpsed through half-open doors—a library, what looked like a gym, another dining space smaller than the first. The wealth on display was obscene.

Blood money, I thought bitterly. How many people had died to pay for these marble floors and crystal chandeliers?

We stopped at a heavy wooden door, intricately carved with what looked like a family crest. Luca pushed it open and gestured for me to enter first. I hesitated before stepping inside, my body tensing as I heard the door close behind us.

The study was exactly what I would have expected from him—masculine and intimidating, designed to emphasize power.

Dark wood paneling covered the walls, lined with bookshelves holding leather-bound volumes.

A massive desk dominated one end of the room, its surface bare except for a laptop and a crystal decanter.

Opposite the desk, a seating area featured deep leather chairs arranged around a low table.

Large windows overlooked the estate grounds, showing the full extent of the property—rolling lawns, gardens, and in the distance, the high stone wall that surrounded it all. A prison disguised as paradise.

"Sit." Luca indicated one of the leather chairs.

I remained standing, crossing my arms over my chest. "Just tell me what you want."

A ghost of a smile touched his lips, as if my defiance amused him. "Very well." He moved to the window, gazing out at his domain. "You and your daughter witnessed something you shouldn't have. Under normal circumstances, that would have led to one outcome."

My blood ran cold at the implication. "But?"

"But I'm considering alternatives." He turned to face me, his blue-gray eyes assessing. "You'll remain here as my guests for the foreseeable future. Mina will have everything she needs—education, entertainment, proper care. You will be treated with respect as long as you cooperate."

"We're not guests. We're prisoners." I dug my nails into my palms to keep from shaking. "And what do you mean by 'cooperate'?"

"It means you don't attempt to escape. Don't try to contact anyone outside these walls. You don't cause problems for me or my people." He moved toward his desk, his steps measured and deliberate. "In return, your daughter continues to receive the kind treatment she's experienced so far."

The threat beneath his words was clear: Mina's well-being depended on my compliance. "How long?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "How long do you plan to keep us here?"

"That depends on a number of factors. For now, consider it indefinite."

Indefinite. The word hit me like a physical blow. I sank into the chair he'd offered earlier, my legs no longer able to support me. "People will look for us. My job, Mina's school—"

"Already handled." Luca sat on the edge of his desk, looking down at me.

"Your employer received an email this morning from your account, explaining that a family emergency has called you away indefinitely.

The school received a similar message, with proper withdrawal paperwork to follow.

Your landlord will find next month's rent in his mailbox tomorrow, with a note saying you've decided to move closer to family in Alabama. "

Horror crawled up my spine as I realized the extent of his research into our lives. "How do you know all this?”

"I make it my business to know everything about people in my custody.

" He picked up a folder I hadn't noticed before and opened it.

"Emory Jean Scott, twenty-three years old.

Born in Milledge, Alabama. Became pregnant at seventeen, moved to Havenview shortly after Mina's birth.

Works as a secretary at Reynolds & Associates Law Firm.

Allergic to shellfish. Regularly shops at Discount Grocery on Third Street, likely due to financial constraints.

Takes Mina to the park on Sundays. Last visited a doctor eight months ago for a sinus infection. "

Each detail landed like a slap. The invasion of privacy, the clinical dissection of my life—it left me feeling violated in a way that transcended physical boundaries.

"Why?" My voice cracked. "Why go to all this trouble? Why not just..." I couldn't finish the sentence.

"Kill you?" he supplied calmly. "As I said, I'm considering alternatives."

"What alternatives? What do you want from us?" The question burst from me, frustration overriding fear. Why wouldn’t he just tell it to me straight? I’d rather know than be left wondering what might happen to us.

Luca studied me for a long moment before asking a question that caught me completely off guard. "Mina's father—where is he?"

I blinked, thrown by the sudden change in topic. "What?"

"Her father," he repeated patiently. "He's not in the picture. I want to know why."

"That's none of your business," I snapped, defensive instinct kicking in.

"Everything about you is my business now, Emory." His use of my first name sent an unsettling chill through me. "Answer the question."

I stared at him, trying to understand why this mattered to him. Was he looking for leverage? Someone else to threaten? "He left when I told him I was pregnant." Even after all these years, the wound still felt tender. "He wanted nothing to do with us. I've raised Mina alone since she was born."

Something shifted in Luca's expression—satisfaction, perhaps, or confirmation of a theory. "No grandparents? No family assistance?"

"My parents disowned me when I got pregnant." The admission tasted bitter. "Said I'd made my bed and could lie in it. Haven't spoken to them since."

Luca nodded, as if this information pleased him somehow. He closed the folder and placed it back on his desk. "That will be all for now. I'll have someone take you back to your room. You'll be allowed to visit with Mina this afternoon, supervised."

Relief flooded me at the prospect of seeing my daughter again, even under their watchful eyes. "Thank you.” The words came out automatically, then I immediately regretted the show of gratitude. I shouldn't be thanking my captor for basic decency.

Luca stood and moved toward the door, indicating I should follow. I rose on unsteady legs, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere of his study. As I passed him, he placed his hand at the small of my back, guiding me into the hallway.

The touch wasn't forceful—nothing like the bruising grip his men had used the night before.

It was light, almost courteous, the way a man might guide a date through a restaurant.

But there was something proprietary about it, something that sent an unwelcome shiver up my spine.

His hand was large and warm through the thin material of my sweater, a reminder of the physical power he held over me.

We walked in silence down the corridor, his hand remaining at my back. I kept my eyes forward, fighting the urge to pull away, knowing it would only highlight my discomfort. The casual intimacy of the gesture confused me more than outright intimidation would have. What game was he playing?

At my door, he finally removed his hand. "Someone will come for you at two o'clock to take you to Mina."

"Why the interest in Mina's father?" I needed to understand something, anything about this situation.

Luca regarded me with those cool blue-gray eyes, unreadable as ever. "Let's just say I understand what it means to grow up with absent parents." Without elaborating further, he opened my door and gestured for me to enter. "Rest. You'll need your strength for the days ahead."

The door closed behind me with a soft click, followed by the sound of the lock engaging.

I sank onto the bed, my mind racing as I tried to make sense of what had just happened.

The investigation into my background, the questions about Mina's father, the strange gentleness he showed my daughter—none of it fit the profile of a cold-blooded killer holding us hostage.

But that's exactly what he was. I couldn't forget that, couldn't let myself be lulled into a false sense of security by decent food and soft words. I had to stay alert, had to find a way out for Mina and myself.

Still, as I sat there waiting to see my daughter, I couldn't shake the unsettling awareness of where his hand had rested against my back, or the strange connection he seemed to be forming with Mina. Both left me feeling more confused—and more afraid—than any threat could have.

I should be ready to run, terrified of the man who kept me under lock and key. So why couldn’t I ignore the fact that he was insanely handsome? Or that he’d smelled nice?

“Get a grip, Emory,” I muttered. I hadn’t dated anyone since having Mina. Clearly, I was past due for some affection. Why else would I think my captor looked sexy, even while fearing him?

I pressed my palms against my burning cheeks, horrified by the direction of my thoughts.

This was insane. Completely, utterly insane.

The man had murdered someone in cold blood, kidnapped my daughter and me, and was holding us prisoner in his fortress-like mansion.

The fact that he looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine was irrelevant.

More than irrelevant—it was dangerous thinking that could get us both killed.

I forced myself to focus on what mattered: getting out of here with Mina.

But even as I tried to push away the unwanted awareness, I couldn't forget the gentle way he'd cut Mina's pancakes, or how his voice had softened when he spoke to her.

The contradiction between the killer I'd witnessed and the man who'd shown such patience with a five-year-old was disturbing in ways I couldn't fully understand.

A soft knock interrupted my spiraling thoughts. I straightened, expecting to see Luca again, but instead a different woman entered—older than Clara, with graying hair pulled back in a neat bun and kind eyes that reminded me of my elementary school librarian.

"Miss Scott? I'm Maria, the head housekeeper." Her voice carried a slight accent I couldn't place. "Mr. Moretti asked me to check if you need anything."

I studied her face, searching for any hint of what she might know about my situation. Did she understand I was here against my will? Did she know what her employer was capable of?

"I'm fine," I said carefully. "Thank you."

She nodded, but didn't leave immediately. Instead, she moved to the window and adjusted the curtains, letting in more natural light. "Your daughter is a lovely child. Very polite. She complimented the unicorn pancakes."

My heart clenched. "She's always been good about saying please and thank you. I've tried to teach her proper manners."

"It shows." Maria smoothed an invisible wrinkle from the bedspread. "She asked about you while she was eating. Wanted to make sure you were having pancakes too. I’m sure it thrilled her when you joined her for breakfast."

Tears pricked my eyes at the image of Mina worrying about me. "She's... she's everything to me."

Something shifted in Maria's expression—a flicker of understanding, maybe even sympathy. "Children are precious gifts. They should be protected, cherished."

The way she emphasized the words made me wonder if she was trying to tell me something. Before I could ask, she straightened and moved toward the door.

"If you need anything at all, please ring the bell by your bed. I'll come immediately." She paused at the threshold. "Mr. Moretti has instructed that you and your daughter are to be treated as honored guests. Those were his exact words."

After she left, I sank back onto the bed, my mind churning.