Erin Graciella Santos, she's blind, she's beautiful. She had a gentle heart and an innocent soul. Alejandro Lucas De Rossi, the heartless Mafia Boss. He doesn't care with anyone else. He had this cold eyes, a short-temper and a dominant side. What happens when Erin caught the eye of the heartless Mafia Boss? Will she be able to change Alejandro or will she be able to dominated by the man?
View More“At last, you’ve returned to my palace, my slave,” the young man said coldly as he yanked her out once more, but this time with brutal force. In that instant, the fragile world Erin had dreamed of for herself shattered into dust.
“Get down and crawl like a dog!” he commanded, his voice a venomous lash. Alejandro’s cruelty had gone far beyond limits. It was too much—so much that, as wicked as it felt, Erin silently prayed she had already died. She wished death would claim her now. The girl didn’t move, not even a twitch; in her mind, she no longer existed. Alejandro had stripped away every last shred of her self-respect. “MOVE!” he roared, his voice echoing like a whip crack. There was no escape for Erin. Everyone who dared to help her had been punished by him without mercy. When she still refused to budge, Alejandro himself forced her into motion. He shoved her head down by tightening his grip around her throat, forcing her to bend. Without a word, she obeyed in silent defeat. Erin crawled like a beaten animal. Alejandro clasped a collar around her neck like one would for a dog, then dragged her forward with the rope attached. He didn’t care that the ground tore at her knees, littered with sharp stones, as she crawled. This was his punishment for her. He stopped before the towering gates of his mansion and hauled her upright, only to wrench her hair so hard her scalp burned, shoving her down again. She fell face-first into the dirt, too broken to stand, knowing it would mean nothing. Her feet throbbed with pain, her body ached, but the agony in her heart was worse. He treated her not as a person, but a chained pet. She heard his cruel laugh. “This is your punishment for ruining my pleasures, little rabbit.” He barked an order to his men, sending one inside to fetch something. They obeyed quickly, returning in moments. “Boss, what should we do with her?” she heard one ask. Erin’s senses were sharp, yet her strength was gone. She could feel the eyes of his men, watching silently, eager to see what their master would do. Her wounds, scratches, and bruises that had just begun to heal would be torn open again. “Don’t you dare touch her,” Alejandro growled. “I’ll be the one to do this. Only me.” Her head pounded—likely a mild concussion. She had escaped him once, but somehow, she was back here again. She was tired. Tired of this, tired of the past, tired of everything. No voice came from her lips anymore; even the will to speak was gone. Though she had escaped, she had been dragged back too soon. The heavens seemed to mourn with her. The sky was heavy and gray, threatening rain. No one dared stop Alejandro. No one had the courage to face him. He would do whatever he pleased. For weeks, he had been torturing her, feeding on her suffering. Erin could hear his breath, even the pounding of her own heart. The last time she was here, she had been close to death. What fate awaited her now? Hurting others pleased him, and she was his chosen victim. Slowly, Erin sat and hugged herself, unable to see the room clearly. She hoped—foolishly—that some mercy would stir in him. But when he spoke, she felt her last fragile hope slip away. She readied herself for the death she had long wished for. “Fifty whips!”The night was cold and rainy. Drops pounded the pavement in a steady beat, making the docks gleam under the faint lighting. Alerina stepped out of the black car, her boots splashing in the tiny puddles. She wore a fitting black jacket and gloves, and her hair was twisted back into a tight braid. She was sixteen now, no longer the tiny, playful girl who nags her uncle or confronts kidnappers. Tonight, her face was calm, serious, and ready.Her father, Alejandro Lucas De Rossi, came out of the car behind her. He carried no umbrella even though the rain fell hard. His men were already in position, guns drawn, scanning every corner of the abandoned warehouse in front of them. Inside were the people who had stolen from the family and sold information to rivals. This raid was a warning, and Alejandro planned to make sure no one ever forgot it.But for Alerina, this night meant something more. It was her trial, the moment she had been waiting for. Her heart pounded hard in her chest, but h
Erin De Rossi had long ago accepted what the doctors told her—that Alerina would be her only child. Years back, when she was kidnapped and shot while carrying Alerina in her womb, she nearly died. The damage was so severe the doctors had shaken their heads with pity and told Alejandro not to hope for more children. Erin hid her grief well, pouring all her love into the baby she carried to term and later into the precocious little girl who filled the De Rossi mansion with chaos and laughter.But fate had its ways of twisting the knife.When Erin woke one morning twelve years later, weak and nauseous, she dismissed it as stress from her medical shifts at the hospital. Yet the nausea persisted, joined by dizziness and an exhaustion she couldn’t explain. It was Alejandro who noticed first, his hawk-like eyes narrowing as he pressed a hand to her forehead.“You’re pale, mia bella. Sit,” he ordered, voice sharper than he intended. Erin rolled her eyes but obeyed, too tired to argue.A few t
The moment Erin tugged her daughter’s hand through the sliding doors of the public hospital, Alerina wrinkled her nose so dramatically it looked like she had just sniffed poison. “Ugh, Mama, it smells like expired medicine and boiled cabbage in here. Why are we here again? Aren’t you a doctor? Can’t you just… you know… fix people in a cleaner place?” she muttered, pulling her sleeve over her nose. Erin gave her the look—a look sharp enough to silence even mafia underbosses who reported late. “Not everyone is privileged to have private care, Princess. Some people suffer in places like this, and as a future woman of this family, you need to see reality, not just the luxury of our estate.” Reality, Alerina thought, looked an awful lot like flickering fluorescent lights, groaning patients in wheelchairs, and nurses running as if chased by ghosts. She puffed her cheeks but followed along, her patent leather shoes clicking against the scuffed linoleum floor. When her mother stopped to c
Alerina sat cross-legged on the marble floor of her father’s study, arms folded, eyes narrowed at Alejandro De Rossi, who loomed behind his desk like a king on a throne. She was already used to the weight of her father’s presence, the kind of commanding aura that made grown men sweat. But instead of shrinking back, Alerina lifted her chin, her dark eyes flashing. She looked like a smaller, sassier version of her Dada—dangerously sharp, impossibly stubborn. “You called me here because you love me, not because you’re planning something boring,” she said, already suspicious. Alejandro arched a brow, his lips twitching at the corners. He didn’t bother to deny it. “You’re sharp, my little devil. Good. But sometimes sharp children need sharpening in the right direction.” Alerina groaned dramatically and rolled her eyes. “Here we go again. Another lecture about discipline. Dada, I’m already disciplined—I always win.” Erin, who leaned against the doorframe still in her crisp white doctor
The morning came at the De Rossi estate, the sun rays catching on the polished bannisters and framed portraits of ancestors who had all looked equally terrifying. In the middle of this intimidating grandeur, however, sat Alerina Amara Serene Morissette De Rossi, cross-legged on the couch with her Apple Watch flashing and her school shoes dangling off the edge. She wasn’t paying attention to her homework like she was supposed to. No—her eyes were narrowed in calculation. Her Dada, Alejandro Lucas De Rossi, the infamous mafia boss whose very name could freeze men with fear, had bested her again last night. She had tried to sneak into the restricted wing of his study—where she swore he kept secrets more valuable than diamonds—but he had caught her in the act without even looking up from his whiskey. The humiliation of being dragged back to bed under his amused smirk had burned in her chest all night. This morning, she vowed, things would be different. “Rina, why aren’t you finishing
At ten years old, Alerina had already established herself as both the pride and headache of the De Rossi household. Pride, because she carried herself with the confidence and wit of someone far older. Headache, because most of that confidence was directed toward mischief. Her sharp tongue, daring imagination, and absolute lack of fear were a cocktail that made her teachers whisper prayers every morning and her parents question what kind of storm they had raised. On a Monday morning, Erin had taken the responsibility of getting her daughter ready for school. The elegant doctor tied her daughter’s dark hair into neat braids, while Alerina fidgeted like a restless soldier before a mission. “Sit still, Alerina. You move more than a patient in withdrawal,” Erin scolded, voice calm but firm. “I’m just preparing for battle, Mama,” Alerina replied, her eyes gleaming mischievously in the mirror. “You send me to that place every day, and you expect me not to treat it like a war zone?” Erin t
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