Aria was sitting on her bed when the knock came at nine PM.

Not a request. A summons.

"Mr. Torrino wants to see you."

Her stomach dropped. She followed the guard down the hallway, past portraits of dead Torrinos, to double doors at the end. He knocked once, then left her standing there alone.

"Come in."

Luca's bedroom was exactly what she'd expected. Dark wood furniture. Everything precisely placed. Not a single personal item visible except a watch on the dresser and a book on the nightstand.

Cold. Controlled. Unwelcoming.

Luca sat in a leather chair by the window, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He didn't stand when she entered. Just watched her hover awkwardly near the door.

The silence stretched. Thirty seconds. A minute.

Finally, he spoke.

"You think I brought you here to fuck you?"

The crudeness hit like a slap. Aria's face burned but she kept her expression neutral.

"Close the door."

She did. The click sounded like a trap springing shut.

"That would imply I see you as a woman instead of a debt payment. And I don't. You're collateral. Nothing more."

The rejection should have been a relief. It wasn't. The contempt in his voice was worse than anything physical could have been.

"Sit down."

There was nowhere except the bed. Aria perched on the edge, hands folded in her lap.

"Your father took something from me. I'll take everything from you. Your freedom. Your identity. Your will. But I'll do it slowly. Methodically." He stood, crossing to refill his glass. "When you're finally broken completely, then maybe I'll consider consummating this joke of a marriage. Until then, you're not worth touching."

Aria's nails dug into her palms.

"Nothing to say?" He moved closer, standing over her. "No protests about your dignity?"

"Would it matter?"

"No. But I'd enjoy hearing it anyway."

He returned to his chair.

"Tell me about your mother."

The shift caught her off guard. "What?"

"She lives in Oregon now. Remarried. Nice house in Portland. She thinks her daughter is studying for midterms."

Ice crawled down her spine. "Leave her alone."

"That depends on you. What about your friend Sarah? Should I send her a wedding photo?"

Aria's mind raced. This was the test.

"You could. But Sarah knows I was saving for medical school. She knows I had no money for a wedding. If she gets a photo of me in a designer dress at a mansion, she'll know something's wrong."

Luca's eyes narrowed.

"She'll ask questions. Maybe go to the police. Maybe post about it online." Aria kept her voice steady. "Making her a problem might create more problems than I'm worth. Unless you're willing to kill a college student. Which would bring federal attention you don't need."

The silence stretched.

She wasn't defying him. She was presenting tactical reality.

Luca studied her. Something flickered in his eyes. Calculation. Maybe respect.

"You're smarter than you look, Castello."

It wasn't a compliment. But it was an acknowledgment.

"I'll text her myself. Tell her I eloped. That I'm taking time off school."

"You'll do it in front of me. I'll read every word before you send it."

"Fine."

He pulled out his phone, showed her the screen. Text messages between Sarah and Aria from the past week.

"I'm monitoring everything. Every call. Every text. Every email." He pocketed the phone. "What about Maya?"

"A text saying I'm busy with family stuff will satisfy her."

"Family stuff." His smile was cruel. "That's one way to describe it."

He paced slowly. "Your advisor emailed you yesterday. What are you going to tell him?"

"That I'm taking a leave of absence. Family emergency."

"Plausible. Smart." He stopped in front of her. "You've thought this through."

"I've had time to think."

"You're not fighting me on any of this. Why?"

"Because fighting you gets people killed."

"And you're a survivor."

"I'm trying to be."

Something shifted in his expression. Recognition. She was playing the game correctly. Calculating. Strategic.

"Here's what's going to happen. You're going to maintain your cover story. You're going to slowly fade from your old life until no one thinks to look for you."

"And if I don't?"

"Then the people you love start having accidents. Car crashes. Muggings. Gas leaks." He said it like discussing the weather. "I have the resources."

"I know."

"Good." He walked to the connecting door. "Your room is through here. Separate from mine. You'll sleep alone until I decide otherwise."

Aria stood on shaking legs.

"The door locks from my side only. I can enter whenever I want. You cannot enter mine without permission." He opened the door. "Consider it a mercy that I'm not interested in touching Castello's daughter."

She moved toward escape.

"One more thing."

She stopped.

"Tomorrow, you'll begin learning how this household operates. Maria will teach you my preferences." His eyes held hers. "I want to see if you're as observant as I think you are. If you're as smart as you pretended just now. Or if you were buying time."

The challenge was clear.

"I'll learn whatever you want me to learn."

"We'll see."

Aria stepped through and closed the door. Leaned against it, heart hammering.

Then she saw it.

On the nightstand. A framed photograph.

Her. Three months ago. Coming out of her apartment, coffee in hand, laughing. Completely unaware someone was watching.

Professional quality. Zoomed in. Deliberate.

He'd been studying her like a specimen.

She checked the room frantically. No more photos. But that didn't mean there weren't more.

The connecting door had no lock on her side.

Aria grabbed the desk chair and wedged it under the doorknob. It wouldn't stop him. But it might give warning.

She climbed into bed fully clothed, phone clutched in her hand.

At two AM, she heard his door open. Footsteps fading toward his study.

Right on schedule. Just like Isabella had said.

Aria stared at the ceiling where a camera watched her not break.

Luca was testing her intelligence. Her strategic thinking. Her ability to survive.

And she'd just passed the first test.

Now she needed to keep passing them. Keep proving she was smart enough to be useful. Valuable enough to keep alive.

Because the moment she stopped being useful, she'd stop being alive.