Bound and Watched

Marco shifted uncomfortably, pressing his knees together. The urge to use the restroom had been gnawing at him for a while, but asking Alessandro wasn’t exactly simple. It wasn’t fear that held him back — it was knowing that Alessandro would find a way to twist it into something irritating, teasing, or humiliating.

“I need to use the restroom,” Marco muttered at last, his voice low.

Alessandro didn’t even look at him fully. His gaze stayed locked on the people he was watching, his attention razor-sharp.

“Be quick,” he murmured, voice calm but threaded with authority.

Marco lifted their joined wrists, the steel cuff biting into his skin. “What about my hand?” he asked, shaking the chain slightly.

A lazy smirk curved Alessandro’s mouth. “Ah. Guess I’ll have to go with you?” His tone was more teasing than serious.

Marco stared at him, incredulous. “Are you mad?”

“I’m not shameless, you see,” Alessandro drawled, clearly enjoying himself.

“Asshole,” Marco muttered under his breath — loud enough for Alessandro to catch.

Before Alessandro could retort, a woman stepped into their path, her movements slow and calculated, her eyes locked onto him. She leaned in slightly, letting the dim light catch the curve of her lips.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hi,” Alessandro replied, the smirk not leaving his face.

“Can I treat you to a drink?” Her voice was honeyed, her gaze expectant.

“I’ll have to decline,” Alessandro said with a small shrug.

The woman’s eyes flicked down — and caught sight of the cuffs. Her smirk deepened.

“And who’s this?” she asked, tilting her chin toward Marco.

“My new trophy,” Alessandro said smoothly, looking at Marco just long enough to make the jab sting.

Marco frowned but stayed silent. The woman laughed softly, then bent to grab a cocktail from the table, her dress riding up to reveal smooth skin.

“Bye,” she purred, and disappeared into the crowd.

Marco exhaled sharply. “You declined because of this?” he asked, lifting their cuffed wrists.

“I don’t need a new toy,” Alessandro said, leaning close so his words brushed Marco’s ear. “I already have one.”

Marco ignored the jab. “I’m serious — I’m pressed.”

Alessandro’s eyes narrowed slightly, his voice dropping to a threat. “Don’t run. If you do, I’ll kill your entire family — then you.” With that, he pulled a small key from his pocket and uncuffed them.

Marco flexed his wrist immediately, relief flooding through him as the blood returned to his hand.

“Just a minute,” Alessandro warned.

Marco didn’t wait to be told twice. He slipped into the crowd, weaving between people until the party noise dulled behind him. The further he got, the more his shoulders loosened. Space. Finally, space to breathe.

“Luca,” Alessandro called.

“Yes, boss,” Luca replied, stepping closer.

“Follow him. Don’t let him out of your sight.”

“Understood.” Luca moved after Marco, keeping his pace casual but deliberate.

Marco’s footsteps echoed faintly as he made his way down the quieter hallway. The corridor was dim, lined with heavy oil paintings whose painted eyes seemed to follow him. Antique sconces threw long shadows along the walls. For a moment, he leaned against the wall, letting his eyes fall shut. His right wrist still ached from the cuff — the soreness was real, grounding.

A sound broke the silence — soft footsteps, measured and steady.

Marco’s eyes opened, his body tensing. A voice he knew slid into the quiet.

“I thought I’d find you hiding.”

Marco turned sharply. “Leo?”

Leonard stood a few feet away, hands in his pockets, lips curled into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. The bitterness was plain, the resentment raw.

“What do you want? Alessandro might see us,” Marco said in a low, urgent voice, glancing around.

“To talk,” Leonard said. “Father sent me… no — Father ordered me to bring you home tonight.” His smile widened, but there was no warmth in it.

Something in Marco’s gut sank. He should never have left Alessandro’s side. He knew the truth — if Alessandro found them together, they’d both be dead before they could explain.

“Where’s Father? He’s supposed to be here,” Marco said quickly. His breathing had gone shallow, panic sharpening the edges of his voice. “Why isn’t he here?”

Leonard’s jaw flexed. “Father had… other priorities.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Marco insisted. “He wouldn’t just—”

“Of course he would,” Leonard snapped, stepping closer. “Who do you think you are? He’s had enough of you playing the victim.” The lie rolled easily off his tongue — the same poison Diego used on him on him few days back.

Marco flinched, glancing over his shoulder. “I shouldn’t be talking to you. If Alessandro sees—”

“Yeah, I’ve heard all about your precious psychopath,” Leonard cut in, his tone dripping with disdain. “You’re scared of him. That’s why he chose you — because you’re easy to break.”

Marco’s hands curled into fists. “That’s not true.”

“No?” Leonard stepped forward, eyes narrowing. “You’ve always been the golden boy. No matter how hard I fought, it was always you. And now you’re here, wearing his chain like a prize. You disgust me.”

Before Marco could answer, a sharp voice broke through the tension.

“Step away from him.”

Both men turned. Luca stood in the hallway, his gaze cold and unwavering. Without a word, he moved in, pushing Leonard back and grabbing Marco’s arm.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said quietly to Marco.

Leonard shoved forward, grabbing Luca by the shoulder and slamming him into the wall. His hand closed around Luca’s throat.

“How dare you,” he hissed, his breath hot with rage.

“Leo, stop!” Marco stepped forward, but Leonard shoved him hard. Marco stumbled, his palm slamming against a protruding iron rod. Pain shot up his arm, and blood welled where the metal had cut him.

Luca coughed, reaching for Leonard’s wrist, but Leonard yanked off Luca’s mask instead, eyes narrowing as recognition hit.

“Oh… you’re his favorite guard,” Leonard said darkly. “Now I get it.”

Footsteps echoed from the other end of the hall. Slow. Deliberate.

Alessandro appeared, a shadow that carried weight. His gaze immediately found Marco on the floor, blood dripping from his hand. His jaw tightened, the fury in his eyes slow-burning but lethal.

“What happened?” he asked, crouching down beside Marco.

Marco stayed silent.

Alessandro’s gaze flicked to the torn sleeve, the cut, the fresh blood. “Who did this to you?”

“I tripped,” Marco lied. But Alessandro caught the flicker in his eyes — the lie was obvious.

Alessandro rose to his feet, turning toward Leonard. Without warning, he slammed him back against the wall, fist connecting with his jaw. The crack echoed. Leonard staggered but stayed standing, his smirk intact.

"Alessandro, stop it!" Marco shouted. He tried to stand and stop them but Luca held him tight.

"Let me go, Luca!" Marco struggled against Luca's grip, his eyes fixed on Alessandro and Leonard. The air was thick with tension, the sound of their heavy breathing and the distant hum of the party music filled the hallway.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Leonard taunted, licking blood from his lip.

Alessandro didn’t bother answering. He shoved his forearm into Leonard’s chest, pinning him.

“If you weren’t his brother, I’d cut those hands off.”

Leonard’s breath came fast, hatred swirling in his eyes. “Weren’t you scared of me? Is that why you went after the weaker prey?”

Alessandro’s voice dropped to ice.

“If I ever see you near Marco again, I’ll kill you and bury you where no one will find you.”

The hallway fell into heavy silence.

And in that silence, something shifted — this was no longer just a war between families.

It was personal.