5 His Warning
1460 Words
Harper’s POV
After showering, my body felt much lighter. The exhaustion was washed away, and even my emotional burden felt less heavy. But I was still so tired today, barely able to keep my eyes open.
It was already late, and there was no sound from downstairs. Everyone must have gone to bed.
I wanted to go down to the kitchen to grab a glass of water before going back to sleep.
The servants had cleaned up and left the villa. The living room was pitch dark and incredibly quiet. I didn’t turn on the lights; I didn’t want to disturb anyone. I knew the house well by now. Yawning, I navigated the dark living room. Sometimes, I’d come down for water in the middle of the night—this route had become muscle memory.
But as I passed the couch, my leg bumped into something hard yet warm.
Someone was sitting on the couch!
My body reacted faster than my mind; I stumbled back, taking two quick steps away. In the moonlight, I saw it was my stepbrother—Marco.
I clutched my chest, trying to make my voice sound calm. "Goodnight."
With that, I went to the kitchen. I needed that glass of water more than ever to calm my nerves.
Oh God, please let him not do anything else.
I barely had time to turn around after drinking my water when I was suddenly shoved against the wall with immense force. His hand clamped over my mouth, preventing me from making any noise. That familiar feeling of suffocation rushed back, along with the memories from a year ago. The fear paralyzed me.
“Mmm… mmm…”
His face was bathed in moonlight, giving it a soft glow, but his eyes were sharp—like a devil straight out of hell.
I didn’t know why my thoughts drifted. Marco must have noticed me spacing out because he whispered for me not to make a sound, and after I nodded, he let go.
He didn't speak; he just stared at me. I felt a chill run down my spine under his gaze. I didn’t know whether I should leave or stay. Since he forbade me from talking, I could only ask with my eyes. I had no idea what he was thinking. I just knew that he was dangerous. My instincts told me to run, but my legs felt like jelly.
Marco's POV
Harper's thoughts were written all over her face. I knew she was scared; I could feel her pulse racing under my hand, and her wrist drooped weakly from fear.
I watched her almost greedily, seeing her trembling lashes and evasive gaze. Perhaps because she had just had water, her red lips glistened slightly. Suddenly, I felt parched.
Like someone under a spell, I found himself drawn to her scent. I moved closer, bit by bit, until I could see the fine hairs on her face. But when my gaze fell on what was around her neck, my fleeting good mood sank to the lowest depths.
I wasn't stupid. I could tell it was a birthday present—and definitely not from someone in the family. Thinking about the boy who kissed her earlier today, that familiar wave of irritation surged within me.
I unconsciously tightened his grip on her wrist, ignoring her slight wince of pain.
“I went to your school this afternoon.”
I saw her body tremble. She knew what I was talking about.
“So you do have this passionate side, Harper…”
My voice was low, like a lover’s murmur, but to Harper, it sounded like the devil’s death sentence.
Harper’s POV
I didn’t know what he meant. I just wanted to get away. Why? What did I do wrong? Becoming part of the Moretti family meant that I had to become family with him.
He said he went to my school this afternoon, which meant he knew about Matthew. Matthew was just a student, and Marco was the next mafia leader. I looked at the man before me; he looked back, and even though he didn’t frown, I could tell he was furious.
What was he mad about? Shouldn’t I be the one who’s angry?
He reached out, and I instinctively stepped back. I thought he was going to choke me again, but he didn’t.
What he did instead wasn’t much better. He was rough, rubbing at my lips with his fingers. I tried to pull away, but he grabbed my chin, holding me in place. The calluses on his hand scraped against my jaw, hurting me. My lips were thin, and he rubbed them until they were swollen. I could feel a painful sting, and I thought my lip must’ve split. Tears began to well up.
He finally let go, but his words hurt even more.
“Harper, today is your birthday, and I don’t want to upset you, but I am the future successor of the Moretti family. There is no place for premarital s*x in our family. You better keep…”
I could feel his gaze sweeping up and down me.
“I don’t want to spell it out, but I hope you won’t be too casual and bring shame to our family.”
Love can make people brave, and so can hate. I despised his inexplicable actions and his senseless words.
So I shoved him hard. “This is my home! My parents haven’t stopped me from dating, and they haven’t put restrictions on me. You don’t get to control me. Do you think this is the Middle Ages? What I want to wear and do is none of your business!”
I’d had enough. I didn’t look at his expression as I ran upstairs.
What did I do to deserve this?
I buried myself under my blankets and cried. Eventually, I must have cried myself to sleep because I lost consciousness and fell into a deep sleep.
The next few days were quiet, and I lived my life as usual. I started to think that maybe that night was just a nightmare.
It was the weekend, and my mom came into my room in the morning with a styling team in tow.
She said we were going to a banquet tonight and that I needed to meet some people. I stared at my mother’s face. Even though she had aged, she still had the charm of a mature woman.
“Mom, I don’t like these social events.” The words swirled around my mouth, but seeing her hopeful expression, I gave in.
The stylist opened a box, and a purple dress came into view.
It had thin straps, a deep purple color, and a golden chain around the waist. It was different from my usual style. I looked at myself in the mirror, almost unable to recognize my own beauty. The makeup artist painted my lips a bold red, with winged eyeliner that exuded confidence. The dress hugged my skin, highlighting my figure and making my skin look even smoother.
It suited me well—it showed me another side of myself.
My mom looked at me, her eyes full of amazement. “Honey, you’ve grown up.”
I was sure I heard pride in her voice. “Mom, I’m not a kid anymore. I’ll protect you.”
Just as she had protected me, I would protect her.
After fixing my hair, the stylist helped me hold up my dress as I went downstairs. The dress was a bit long, and I rarely wore heels, so I felt a little uneasy.
My stepfather and stepbrother were sitting on the sofa, talking. When they heard us, they turned to look.
“Harper, dear, you look stunning tonight.” My stepfather beamed.
I smiled and winked at him. “It’s because of Mom’s taste. Mom’s dress is even more beautiful today.” I placed my mother’s hand in his.
“Change your dress. This style doesn’t suit you.” The annoying voice came again, his face dark as if I owed him a fortune.
But Dad scolded him. “Marco, how can you talk to a lady like that? Harper looks beautiful. You can’t belittle her just because you don’t like this style.”
Marco didn’t say anything else, but the way he looked at me made me even more uncomfortable.
We were assigned to ride in the same car, and I tried to keep my distance from him. The stylist came running over, breathless, holding a fur shawl.
“Miss, it’s cold today. You’ll feel better if you wear this.”
I glanced out at the bright sunshine, feeling puzzled. “Cold?” Still, seeing how flustered she was, I reached out and took the shawl.
- Writer
