Contracted 169

Nico initially resists giving Diego the cameras, trying various tactics including reasoning, sarcasm, and even involving Winnie, but Diego leverages a past mistake Nico made to finally get the cameras. Diego sets up the cameras in Charlotte Ricci’s room at the Ricci estate before dawn, observing her quietly as she wakes. Charlotte is portrayed as a complex figure—different from her privileged family, guarded and precise, carrying a hidden strength beneath her calm exterior. Diego notes her subtle beauty and the small moments that reveal her true self, including her habit of carrying a gun, which signals her control and resilience.

Later, Marco Ricci, the new Don, enters Charlotte’s room with arrogance and a demanding tone, expecting her to prepare for a meeting with the Calabresi. Charlotte defiantly refuses to be treated like a decoration, provoking Marco’s anger. He violently grabs her throat, asserting his dominance and threatening her mother to force Charlotte’s compliance. Despite the physical intimidation, Charlotte remains unflinching and verbally threatens Marco in return, showing her fierce spirit even in the face of danger.

After Marco leaves, Diego watches Charlotte’s reaction through the camera. He notices the marks on her neck and her moment of vulnerability as she hesitates to make a call. This moment shifts Diego’s feelings from mere curiosity to a protective determination. He resolves that Charlotte is not alone anymore; she is under his watch and protection. He silently vows to defend her from Marco’s abuse, marking a turning point where Diego claims responsibility for her safety and well-being.

Charlotte Through the Glass.

Diego

Nico didn’t want to give me the cameras at first. He tried reason He tried sarcasm He even tried Winnie, which was a rookie mistake because Winme thinks blackmail is an art form and she taught me most of it. So, yes, I had to remind Nien about that one time he accidentally erased Connor’s offshore ledger from his own server A little leverage goes a long way. By the time he shoved the box across the table at me, muttering curses in Italian I’m pretty sure he doesn’t actually know the meaning of, I’d already tuned him out I had what I needed. I’m gone before the sun even thinks about waking up

The Ricci estate sits quiet in the pre dawn dark, the kind of quiet that bums, like the air itself knows it’s about to be disturbed. The new cameras are already humming to life on my tablet six perfect, undetectable eyes watching from every corner of her room. Charlotte Ricel. The half sister. The inconvenient secret. The girl who doesn’t smile when she’s supposed to She moves differently than the rest of them. Not like someone born into privilege. like someone who’s learned to make herself small to survive it. Through the feed, her room glows soft, washed in the early grey light. She stirs Turns, The sheet slips from one shoulder. There’s something strangely holy about watching someone before the world wakes up to judge them. She doesn’t stretch right away. She lies there for a while, staring at the ceiling, her expression unreadable. Then she exhales, long and slow, the kind of sigh that sounds like she’s already tired of the day ahead, and then she sits up.

1 zoom in just slightly.

Her movements are neat and practised. Hair tied half back at the top, the bottom falls out messily. Once her feet are on the floor, she pauses, like she’s counting the seconds before she stands. Then she does. She moves to the window, and I get my first clear look at her face. Charlotte Ricci isn’t beautiful in the way most women try to be. She’s the kind of beautiful that sneaks up on you. The kind that can slip a knife under your ribs and make you thank her for it. Oh and I think I would thank her for it. She yawns. Rubs at her eyes. Checks her phone, scrolling absently. There’s a moment, the smallest one, where her face softens. Maybe it’s a photo she’s looking at, maybe. She smiles, faintly, and it feels like watching the moon through glass. I make a mental note to get Nico to help me tap her phone. She pours herself tea from a pot that’s already waiting on the counter. I can’t tell what kind, but she takes it without sugar, no milk. Plain. I make a note of that too. Who is she when she’s not wearing the Ricci name like armour? What makes her laugh? What does she look like when she cries? Who is she when no one’s watching but me? The feed flickers as she moves through the room. I watch her brush her hair. Fix the collar of her blouse. Slide a gun from the drawer beside the bed, check the magazine, then tuck it back like it’s just part of getting dressed. That’s when it hits me, the control. The precision. She’s not Ricci’s pet. She’s someone who pretends to be tamed, so the leash stays loose. My mouth curves into a grin. I think I

like her.

It’s late morning when he comes in. Marco Ricci. The new Don. The one with his father’s temper and none of his grace. He doesn’t knock. Just swings the

door open and walks in like he owns the air she breathes. He’s got a glass of wine in one hand and arrogance in the other.

Charlotte doesn’t turn right away. She just says, without looking up, “It’s nine in the morning, Marco.”

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “And you’re still here. We’ve got a meeting in an hour.”

“With who?”

“The Calabresi. I expect you to look presentable this time.” ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ fındnovel.net

She finally looks at him, and I swear the temperature in the room drops ten degrees. “Then you can expect to be disappointed. I’m not your decoration.”

He laughs, but there’s no humour in it. “You think you have a choice?”

“I think you can go fuck yourself.”

There it is. Fire. He sets the glass down hard enough that I hear it crack through the mic. Then he moves. Fast. One hand around her throat. I sit forward before I realise I’ve done it. She doesn’t fight him. Doesn’t cry. Just stares at him with those same unflinching eyes. It’s almost worse, the way she refuses to flinch for him.

Charlotte Through the Glass

Marco leans in close. “You’ll play nice. Charlotte Because it you don’t, I’ll make sure Mamma’s next little hospital visit in her fast. Do you understand?

Her throat works against his hand. “You touch her,” she rasps, “and I’ll finish what your father started.”

His fingers tighten once, then release. She stumbles back, coughing, rubbing at her neck.

He straightens his cuffs, as it nothing happened “Be ready in an hour”

Then he’s gone.

–

I don’t move for a long time. She doesn’t either Through the camera, I can see the faint red marks where his fingers were. The way her hands shake just once before she teases herself. She grabs her phone, dials, stops halfway, deletes the number, exhales. When she finally sits on the edge of her bed again,

the moment I know. This isn’t just curiosity anymore. I’m not watching because I want to. the light hits her face just right. And that’s when it happens I’m watching because someone has to. Because if Marco Ricci ever puts his hands on her again, I’ll show him what real fear feels like. She doesn’t know it yet. But she’s not alone anymore. She’s not his prisoner. She’s mine to protect. And I don’t lose what’s mine.

Comments

4

Write Comments

The chapter closes on a haunting tableau of strength and vulnerability, where Charlotte’s quiet defiance and controlled composure reveal a woman forged in the crucible of pain and power. Through Diego’s watchful gaze, we glimpse not just a secret life lived behind closed doors, but a fierce resilience that refuses to be broken. The tension between her and Marco Ricci underscores the dangerous game of control and rebellion, while the silent promise of protection hints at a fragile yet unyielding alliance forming in the shadows.

In this delicate balance of surveillance and empathy, Diego’s growing determination to safeguard Charlotte transforms the narrative from mere observation to a vow of guardianship. The chapter’s emotional core lies in this unspoken connection, where watching becomes an act of care, and the line between captor and protector blurs. It leaves us with a poignant sense of hope—that even in the darkest moments, there is someone willing to stand and fight for the light behind the glass.

The next chapter promises to delve deeper into the dangerous dance between Charlotte and Marco, where power, control, and defiance collide in a tense and volatile atmosphere. As Marco asserts his dominance with chilling threats, Charlotte’s resilience and quiet strength become even more palpable, hinting at a fierce inner fire that refuses to be extinguished. The emotional stakes are rising, and the fragile balance of their twisted relationship teeters on the edge of something far more explosive.

Meanwhile, Diego’s growing obsession with Charlotte adds another layer of complexity to the unfolding drama. His protective instincts and determination to shield her from harm suggest that alliances will be tested and loyalties questioned. The question lingers: how far will Diego go to keep Charlotte safe, and what consequences will his involvement bring? Expect the next chapter to peel back more layers of these characters, revealing vulnerabilities and secrets that could change everything.

Cedella

Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.