Luca's POV

I stood before the glass walls of my room, which overlooked the wide field, and I watched, quietly yet interestedly, at the scene playing out on the field.

A wine glass trapped in my fingers, and I took a gentle sip, sighing as I threw my hand into the pocket of my robe. Just like I suspected, she would try to escape. She was indeed a rebel. But even rebels break, and I knew how to make that happen.

First, she would have to break mentally. She would be restless, wondering continuously what my plans are, if I would kill her or not, when I would kill her, and what my next move would be. That would build so much anxiety in her, then paranoia, and soon, she would be a ghost in her own body, begging to be let out. Then I would proceed to breaking her emotionally and craft her into my tool—my tool to rip the FBI apart.

I shook the wine glass, letting the whiskey swirl around in the glass, heating up with the ice, and then I took another sip. I hummed a sigh. Breathing into the glass at the scene took an interesting turn downstairs.

I had expected her to turn back at the sight of the guards and return to the mansion. Instead, she charged further into the field, and she attacked the guards, starting a fight against men twice her size.

Wow. I echoed another soft gasp into the glass as I took another sip, watching over the rim of the glass.

She kicked and pinched at the guards, swinging low, bobbling her head through the guards' arms, and dodging as she attacked their legs and stomach. Since she couldn't reach their faces. For a woman, she seemed to be holding out beyond expectation.

I shrugged my shoulders then. It was to be expected anyway. She was an FBI agent, not some old-money princess or some Barbie doll. Yet, even with that, she couldn't defeat over thirty men on her own. Her defeat was inevitable. She was lucky because the men had refused to use their guns and also refused to attack her, instead going on the defensive.

The inevitable happened sooner than I expected, because when she lunged for a gun of one of my men, he caught her wrist. That slowed down her attack, and another man dropped behind her and hit her on the neck with the blade of his palm. She went out as fast as light, wobbling down until she collapsed to the floor.

One of the men then lifted her onto his shoulder and began bouncing into the mansion with her, while the others retreated for their various duty posts.

I ditched my wine glass then and strolled out of my room. The guard was just bouncing out of her room when I strolled down the hallway to the room.

He bowed his head briefly. “Don Luca, she tried to…”

I threw my hand up, a cue for him to shut up, and he took it. “Good job, Dante.” I slipped him a grin. That told him I knew exactly what happened.

He bowed again, and he resumed bouncing down the hallway with his massive body, his footsteps echoing against the tiled floor as he walked with every inch of the brute strength his body carried.

I pushed the door, stepping in. She was already rising from the bed. She held her head in her hands, shaking it as if to shake off something from it. When her eyes calmed, she raised them to me.

Her hazel eyes burned with an intensity on me. I have seen so many beautiful women and dated plenty of them, yet I had never encountered one whose eyes held so much character as the woman before me. Her hazel pair didn't just bore out her hate for me. I glimpsed her strength, determination, confidence, and resolve, all in them. Her eyes offered a prism to her entire being.

It was a shame I planned to break her spirit, but it had to go. She was useless to me this way. I sank into the bed, just beside her legs. She shifted from me, the hate in her eyes growing.

“What do you want?” she demanded, her hate staining her voice as usual.

There was something about her that made her look intensely beautiful when she didn't even try to be. Of course, she wasn't half as beautiful as the list of Hollywood models I have been with, but she held down one category of beauty of her own, one I couldn't clearly define. Her cheekbones were sharp, her jaw defined, and every bit as feminine as ever.

She had a lean, athletic build that was obviously crafted in a gym. That was one of the little details that gave her away yesterday. Of course strippers also go to the gym, but most are more interested in their makeup and all than building up muscles.

Though, from what I saw yesterday, she wasn't half bad as a stripper. She had the curves but was just a little rigid in some places.

“What do you want?” She demanded again, her tone harsh, almost as if she was growling at me.

I sighed, slipping her a grin. “I thought I told you not to try to escape, Miss Allison. Now that you have tried and seen how it ended, I hope you won't do anything foolish again. I can’t protect you if….”

“I don't give a damn about all the things you say. If I see another opportunity to escape, I damn well would take it.” She faked a grin of her own, relaxing into the bed. “But I might reconsider if you tell me what your big plans are.”

I leaned closer to her on the bed, so close my face was just an inch from hers. I watched her blink fast. Her face tightened for a moment as she struggled to contain her shock. She swallowed, her neck and jaw moving to flush down her saliva.

“Do you really want to know what my big plans are, Miss Allison?”

Her hazel eyes, very bright up close, vibrated on a spot—on me—as she struggled to keep herself composed.

“Yes.” She breathed.

I have dated so many women to know when a woman is affected by my presence. I wouldn't say she liked me or that I am the handsomest man in the world. But one thing I could swear to and bet my whole fortune on was that beneath her chest was a heart palpitating very hard, so hard she couldn't breathe well.

I leaned closer, feeling her breath stifling on me, raspy and a little loud. I caught her chest heaving. I stopped just before her ear, and I whispered. “Don't worry, Miss Allison. You will soon find out. But I’ll give you a hint, a very big one." I grinned against her ear. "My big plan is going to end with me owning not just your body, but your soul and even your heart." I whispered in her ear, feeling her tremble beneath me.