Mag-log inCHIARA*
I jump in my seat, accidentally dropping the pancake i was about to shove in my mouth, i didn't hear him come in. He has a small smirk on his face, as if pleased to see that he caught me off guard, fucker! Before i can say anything, i get distracted, he looks dashing. He stood tall, his broad shoulders squared, as he stared down at the dishevelled mess that is me, His tailored navy blue suit hugged his muscular physique, the fabric stretching subtly across his chest and shoulders. A crisp white dress shirt, starched to perfection, provided a striking contrast to the dark suit, while a slim black tie added a touch of sophistication. A sprinkle of gray at his temples gave an air of distinction to his chiseled features, and his dark cold eyes seemed to bore into those he met, as if sizing them up. A sharp jawline and prominent nose gave him a formidable appearance, one that commanded respect. On his wrist, a sleek black leather strap held a silver watch, its face gleaming in the fading light. A simple gold pinky ring adorned his left hand, a subtle hint at his wealth and influence if the room the I'm in right now isn't enough proof. As he moved, his suit jacket fell open, revealing a holstered pistol nestled against his ribcage. The glimpse of weaponry served as a potent reminder that, beneath his polished exterior, he is a very dangerous man, if the fact that i am a captive here isn't enough to make that conclusion. Wait a sec, did i just say he has a gun on him? And did i just say he moved closer to me? Holy fuck! Is he going to kill me now? He is now two feet away from the bed and he looks down at me with a small tilt to his lips, he looks huge and domineering right now, fuck his 6 ft something height. I stand up to match him, I'm also tall and I won't have a man look down at me that way . As I stood before him, I felt my confidence soar. My 5'10" frame allowed me to meet his gaze without straining, my eyes locking onto his with a sense of equality. I liked that I didn't have to crane my neck to look up at him. His towering frame seemed to envelop me, casting a shadow over my slender form. But I didn't feel intimidated. Instead, I felt a sense of calm wash over me, as if my height and poise had somehow leveled the playing field. As I gazed up at him, I caught a glimpse of something in his eyes - a flicker of surprise, perhaps, or a hint of admiration. Whatever it was, it made me feel seen, acknowledged, and respected. And in that moment, I knew I could hold my own against anyone, no matter how tall or imposing they might be, maybe just not this man. He has that smirk again. "Liked what you saw?", he says with a lazy drawl. Right, i was checking him out less than 10 seconds ago. "No! ", i sound in control of my feelings, so i added, " Let me go" , Nice work Chiara. He doesn't bat an eye, just continues staring at me, creepy mf. "You're not leaving". "What?", my mouth is hanging open right now, why? He doesn't even seem like he wants anything to do with me! That's a lie, he looks like he wants to do everything to me, but still! He steps to the side and settles himself on the bed, then leans backwards and rests his weight on his arms. "You are not leaving Chiara...", he pauses as if getting an idea. " That's partly because you have not shown any desperation but, if you go on your pretty knees right now and beg for your freedom, then i might consider letting you go". What?! He must be joking! He doesn't look like it though. I can't and I won't, fuck him. I grit my teeth and turn away. "No!". "No? You don't want to go back to mama and Papa? And your little boyfriend?", his voice is taunting but i consider his words. My parents must be so worried and Stefan, Mr kidnapper here said he is alright but can i believe him? Would he let me go after kidnapping just because I knelt for him? I doubt that, but what if he is just an egoistical bastard who needs a female on her knees and beneath him to feel good? I slowly turn around , fists clenched and a determined look on my face, the bastard looks amused but i ignore it and slowly drop to my knees. "Please...let me go", just for extra effects, I made my voice small and tried my best innocent and defeated eyes. Is it working? He leans down towards me and says, "No". "Motherfucker!", i half yell with frustration and send him what i hope would be a deadly glare, he just throws his head back and laughs like this whole thing is funny, No, i won't cry, I won't cry, I won't cry, it doesn't work though, my eyes sting and my throats as my tears threaten to fall but i blink them back. "Why are you doing this to me? I don't even know you!!!" Before the last word completely leaves my mouth, he grabs my neck and pulls me to my feet roughly, he tilts down until our faces are apart by less than an inch. My breath catches in my throat as his face draws near, our noses almost touching. The proximity is intoxicating, making my head spin. I'm extra aware of every feature of his face... the sharp jawline, the dark piercing eyes , the gentle curve of his lips. It's as if time has slowed down, and every other thing has faded to nothingness. My skin tingles with anticipation and fear, my senses heightened as I breathe in the scent of his cologne. I feel like I'm drowning in the depths of his eyes, losing myself in their darkness and intensity. Every fiber of my being is drawn to him, as if an invisible force is pulling us together. I'm aware of the gentle pressure of his body against mine, the small vibrations from his chest as he speaks going straight to my core.Massimo’s POVThe night was quiet... the kind of silence that carried weight, that felt almost reverent. The sky above the abandoned parking lot was an expanse of bruised black, dotted with indifferent stars. The distant hum of the city was a faint reminder that life continued somewhere else — far from this isolated corner of the world where I stood, watching two men struggle against the ropes that bound them to metal chairs.The place reeked of gasoline, damp concrete, and fear.One of my men slammed the butt of his gun against a crate, breaking the stillness. I didn’t flinch. My eyes were fixed on the two intruders... Michael LaRosa’s men. I recognized the way they tried to mask their fear with arrogance, the faint trace of defiance in their trembling jaws. It almost amused me.Almost.Michael had been getting desperate.First, he’d gone to the embassyz a pathetic move for a man who once ruled the streets of Combia with blood and intimidation. I made sure his calls never reached the
Isabella The morning drifted by in a haze of quiet warmth after my breakdown. My face still felt tender from crying, but Lily’s smile made it impossible to linger in sadness. She moved around the kitchen like a soft melody, stirring, seasoning, humming something under her breath. I found myself caught in her rhythm, slicing, tasting, stirring, as if we’d been doing this for years.The air smelled of fresh basil and simmering tomatoes; the sauce bubbled softly on the stove, filling every corner of the kitchen with a scent that made my stomach ache in the best way. Lily had called it Melanzane Parmigiana — a Sicilian dish with eggplants, tomatoes, and ricotta. I’d never made it before, and she said with pride, “It’s my mother’s recipe.”When we finally dished it out and sat at the dining table, I couldn’t help it... the moment the first bite hit my tongue, I groaned dramatically, dropping my fork like I’d just tasted heaven.“Oh my God, Lily… this is...this is unreal,” I said, wide eye
CHIARAIt had been a week since the amusement park, and the world around me has begun to take on a strange, gentle rhythm. A rhythm that didn’t belong to the girl I used to be, yet somehow fit perfectly now.Massimo had made good on his word, he’d given me days that felt like dreams. We drove along the winding coastlines of Naples, where the blue of the sea melted into the horizon like spilled ink. The wind had tangled my hair, and the salt in the air kissed my lips. Everywhere I looked, there was color, vibrant buildings clinging to cliffs, laughter drifting from open cafés, children chasing pigeons across cobblestone squares.It was beautiful. All of it.And every time I turned to look at him, his hand on the steering wheel, his sunglasses reflecting the endless blue, I felt something pull at me from deep within my chest.He would glance at me occasionally, that quiet smile curving his lips. A smile that said you’re mine without a word spoken.We’d shared dinners that stretched into
CHIARABy the time we left the amusement park, the sun was slipping low on the horizon, painting the sky in bands of honey and rose. My heart was still racing from laughter and adrenaline, but it was the kind of exhaustion that felt earned, the kind that comes after joy, not fear.Massimo opened the car door for me, that quiet habit of his never fading. I slid in, still holding onto the faint sweetness of cotton candy on my tongue. He started the engine, the low hum of it vibrating through me. Music played softly, some Italian song I didn’t recognize but somehow fit the moment perfectly...gentle, nostalgic, like a memory trying to form.As we drove, the cool evening breeze drifted through the half-open windows. Then, without warning, he pressed a button and the sunroof began to slide open.“Go on,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “You look like you need it.”I blinked at him, confused for half a second before realizing what he meant. And then, laughing, I pushed myself up throug
ChiaraThe city melted away behind us as Massimo drove, the world outside blurring into streaks of gold and color. I sat there, quietly giddy, watching sunlight flicker against his profile, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his fingers gripped the wheel, confident and sure.He didn’t let the driver take us. He could have. But he didn’t.And I knew why. I think I do.He wanted this to be ours, just us, with no interruptions, no shadows lurking at our backs.When the tall gates of the amusement park came into view, my breath caught in my throat. The sound hit me first, laughter, loud and carefree, blending with music and the hiss of rides spinning in the distance. Then came the smells — buttered popcorn, sugar, smoke, cotton candy. The air itself felt alive.“Massimo, look!” I couldn’t help it. I was practically pressed against the window, eyes wide like a child’s.He gave a soft chuckle that made something warm bloom in my chest. “You’d think you’ve never been to one before.”“Not lik
CHIARAI couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this… excited.Not nervous. Not scared. Excited. Real excitement.The black jeans fit perfectly, hugging my legs in a way that made me feel grounded, and the forest green blouse brought out the green color in my eyes. I didn’t know if it was the outfit or the idea of stepping out into the world again, but I felt more like myself than I had in months.Maybe that was the problem.Because this wasn’t supposed to feel normal.And yet, as I brushed the last bit of powder onto my face, I couldn’t stop the small smile forming on my lips.The vanity table looked like something out of a dream. My dream. All my favorite brands and products were neatly arranged, just like I used to keep them at home, foundation, concealer, the gloss I swore by, the perfume I used every day before everything went wrong. Massimo had stocked them all. He remembered everything.The realization made my chest tighten.How did he remember all this? How could he possibly
CHIARAThe cold edge of the knife dug deeper against my throat.I flinched, choking on the tremor that rattled through my chest, the sting of metal sharp enough to draw the faint trickle of blood that slid down, warm and terrible, into the hollow of my collarbone. My breath caught. My pulse thunder
MASSIMOThe house was too quiet.I hadn’t noticed it at first. The sky outside was already bruising into night by the time I returned, my shoes carrying traces of dust from the outer path, my head preoccupied with the meetings that had dragged me longer than I liked. But the moment I stepped into t
CHIARAThe ground was hard beneath my cheek, rough stonesbiting into my skin where he'd shoved me down. Dampearth clung to mny hair, grit in my mouth every time l drew abreath. My wrists ached from the ropes digging into them,the coarse fibers already tearing my skin open. Myshoulders screamed
CHIARAI've lost track of time. I don't know how long I've beenhere and I don't want to know, it would just remind me ofthe people I left at home... my parents, they must be soworried. I tried my best to stop thinking about thisnegatively and I'm just being positive right now. It could bealot







