Chapter 3 — The Velvet Threat

Alexia

The hushed hum of the observatory’s air conditioning filled the room, a faint rhythm against the otherwise perfect stillness. The soft glow of the equipment cast long, flickering shadows on the walls, while the scent of pine filtered through the open balcony doors. It was the only place that felt remotely like peace, a fragile reprieve from the suffocating weight of the past few days. But even here, the peace felt tenuous, like a thread stretched too thin, ready to snap.

I traced my fingers along the edge of the telescope, the polished metal cool beneath my touch. The stars above were faint tonight, scattered pinholes of light struggling to compete with the city’s haze. This place had always been my sanctuary, a reminder of limitless potential, of worlds far beyond the one I’d been thrust into. But tonight, the air felt heavier. The silence wasn’t soothing—it was sharp, cutting into the ache that had been building in my chest since my life veered off course.

My family’s secrets. Emmanuel’s betrayal. And now, Lonzo Mattia.

Even thinking his name clawed at my nerves. Lonzo was a constant presence, looming large even when he wasn’t in the room. He was the epitome of control—cold, calculating, and unrelenting. Every time his piercing gray eyes met mine, it felt like he was peeling back every layer I’d fought to keep intact, leaving me exposed in ways I couldn’t stand. No walls, no armor—just raw, unguarded truths I wasn’t ready to face.

My hand drifted to the star chart pendant around my neck, the sharp edges pressing into my palm. It was the last piece of my grandmother I had left, a tether to the life I’d fought so hard to build. She’d always encouraged my curiosity, my love for science, my need to carve out a future beyond the shadows of our family’s past. She used to tell me, “The stars are proof there’s more than what we see. All you have to do is look closer.” Now, that future felt impossibly far away, like the stars themselves—distant, unreachable.

Footsteps echoed behind me, deliberate and heavy, cutting through the quiet like a warning. My pulse quickened. My breath hitched as I braced myself. I didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

“Do you make a habit of disappearing?” Lonzo’s voice was smooth and low, but there was an edge to it, a sharpness that made the air between us feel charged. He stepped further into the room, his dark suit blending seamlessly with the shadows. The glow from the equipment caught the planes of his face, sharpening the already severe lines. His gaze locked onto mine, unrelenting in its intensity.

I straightened, forcing my shoulders back. “Do you make a habit of tracking people down?” My tone was sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care. His presence here—his presence anywhere—was an intrusion I couldn’t ignore.

A flicker of amusement crossed his face, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “When they’re under my protection, yes.”

“Protection.” I let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow in the stillness. “Is that what you call this?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he closed the distance between us with slow, deliberate steps, the kind that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I hated the way he moved—like he owned every inch of space he entered. It was maddening. Intimidating. And for reasons I couldn’t comprehend, I couldn’t look away.

“You don’t seem to grasp the stakes,” he said, his voice quiet but unyielding. “Landon Moretti doesn’t play games. If he gets to you, it won’t end with you. He’ll use you to hurt Emmanuel. To hurt me. And he’ll make sure it’s slow.”

The bluntness of his words hit like a slap, but I refused to let it show. “And what about you?” I countered, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “Are you playing games? Because that’s what this feels like—one big, twisted game where I’m just another piece on the board.”

For a brief moment, something flickered across his expression—something raw and unguarded. A hesitation. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the cold mask he wore so effortlessly.

“You’re here because your brother asked me to keep you safe,” he said, his tone measured, his movements precise. “And because allowing Moretti to win isn’t an option.”

“Safe,” I scoffed, the bitterness rising like bile. “I’ve never felt less safe in my life. Your estate might as well be a cage, and you—” My voice wavered, but I pressed on. “You’re the one holding the key.”

He stepped closer, the air thickening between us. “You may feel trapped, Alexia, but you’re alive. And if you want to stay that way, you’ll listen. Because this isn’t about what you want. It’s about what’s necessary.”

Every word felt like a challenge, cold and deliberate, designed to chip away at my defenses. And yet, beneath the anger, there was something else—a weight in his voice I couldn’t quite name. A tension that, for all his control, he couldn’t fully hide.

“Why do you care?” I demanded, my voice quieter now but no less defiant. “Why go through all this trouble for someone you barely know?”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. His gaze held mine, unflinching. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer but no less certain. “Because weakness—any weakness—is a liability I can’t afford.”

It wasn’t the answer I wanted, but it was the one I expected. Still, something about the way he said it felt incomplete, as though there was more he wasn’t willing to say.

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” I whispered, the words barely audible over the pounding of my heartbeat. “I didn’t ask you to protect me.”

“No,” he said, his gray eyes colder than ever. “You didn’t.”

The weight of his gaze was unbearable, stripping away every shield I’d tried to put up. I turned back to the telescope, my hands gripping the edge tightly. The cool metal grounded me, anchoring me as I fought to steady my breath. Behind me, Lonzo remained silent, his presence a constant, oppressive force.

“You shouldn’t have been here alone,” he said eventually, his tone softer now but no less commanding. “It’s not safe.”

I laughed bitterly, the sound cutting through the stillness. “And where, exactly, is safe? Your estate? This city? Anywhere near you?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched—a subtle, involuntary tell that betrayed the cracks in his control. “Nowhere,” he admitted, the word clipped and devoid of pretense. “Not as long as Moretti is still out there.”

The stars above seemed impossibly far away, their light dim against the vast expanse of darkness. Once, I’d found comfort in their constancy, in the idea that no matter how chaotic life became, they would remain. But now, even they felt like a cruel taunt—a reminder of everything I’d lost.

When I turned back to face Lonzo, his expression was unreadable, his gaze colder than the night air. “This is the one place that still feels like mine,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “You can take everything else, but not this.”

Something shifted in his gaze, a flicker of understanding that disappeared almost as quickly as it appeared. He didn’t argue, didn’t assert his control as I’d expected. Instead, he nodded once, a sharp, decisive gesture that left me more unsettled than any of his words.

“Fine,” he said, his tone clipped. “But next time, you won’t come here alone. There are no exceptions.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and left, his footsteps echoing through the observatory like a drumbeat in my chest.

I waited until the sound faded before sinking into the nearest chair, my legs trembling beneath me. The star chart pendant pressed against my palm, its edges digging into my skin. It was a small, insignificant thing, but in that moment, it felt like the only piece of myself I still had.

The stars above remained silent, offering no answers, no comfort.

And in that silence, I felt the weight of the choices I hadn’t yet made—and the man who would force me to make them.