Cecilia sat stiffly at the far end of the long mahogany table, her hands clasped tightly on her lap, her gaze fixed on the untouched plate of food before her. Across from her, Edward leaned back in his chair, the sharp angles of his face illuminated by the flickering firelight. His dark eyes glimmered with a mixture of arrogance and something deeper—something he fought fiercely to conceal.
Edward swirled the deep red liquid in his crystal goblet, his lips curving into a smile that barely touched his eyes. His laughter, low and mocking, echoed in the vast room as he tilted his head back and took a leisurely sip. "Ah, Cecilia," he drawled, his voice dripping with derision. "You sit there so prim and proper, as if you're a guest here by choice. But let's not pretend. You’re here because I willed it."
Cecilia’s jaw tightened, her nails digging into her palms, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. She loathed the man before her—his arrogance, his cruelty, his relentless need to dominate every aspect of her life since he had forcibly brought her into his world. Yet, beneath her hatred was confusion. Why did he torment her so, and yet, why did his gaze linger on her as if she were the only thing keeping him tethered to this earth?
Edward leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table, and studied her with an intensity that made her skin crawl. "Why so silent, my dear? Lost in thought about your former lover, perhaps?" His smile widened as he saw her flinch. "You must know by now that he was... an obstacle. And obstacles, Cecilia, are meant to be removed." He raised his goblet in a mock toast. "To your late beloved. May his soul rest... somewhere far from us."
“You’re despicable,” Cecilia spat, finally breaking her silence. Her voice trembled with a mixture of fury and heartbreak. "You think this is love? Taking everything from me and forcing me to live in this prison? You don’t love anyone but yourself, Edward."
For a brief moment, something flickered in Edward’s eyes—pain, perhaps? But it was gone before Cecilia could decipher it, replaced by a smirk so cold it could freeze the fire burning behind him. "Love?" he repeated, laughing bitterly. "You misunderstand, Cecilia. I don't do love. Love is a weakness, a chain meant for fools. What I have for you is... possession. You’re mine. That’s all there is to it."
But even as he spoke, his chest tightened. He hated himself for the way he felt when he saw her. The fire in her eyes, the defiance in her stance—she was unlike anyone he had ever met. She made him feel alive in ways that terrified him. Edward Poletto, the ruthless mafia king who bowed to no one, found himself at her mercy. Yet he could not show it. To love her openly was to expose the vulnerability he had spent his entire life burying beneath layers of power and arrogance.
Born into wealth and privilege, he had been surrounded by luxury but deprived of affection. His father, a tyrant obsessed with legacy, had raised him to be strong, ruthless, and unyielding, while his mother had been little more than a shadow in the background, too afraid to challenge her husband's authority. Edward had learned early on that emotions were a liability, a weakness that could be exploited. He had built walls around his heart so high and so thick that even he believed they were impenetrable—until Cecilia.
“You hate me now,” Edward said, rising from his chair and walking toward her, the wine glass still in his hand. “But in time, you’ll understand. This world is cruel, Cecilia. People take what they want, no matter the cost. I simply ensured you would be mine before someone else tried to claim you.” He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the harshness of his words. "You’ll learn to accept it. Or you won’t. Either way, you’re not leaving."
Cecilia slapped his hand away, her eyes blazing with defiance. "You can force me to stay here, but you will never have my heart. You don’t even know what love is, Edward."
His laughter rang out again, but this time, it was hollow. He stepped back, raising his glass to his lips and draining it in one long gulp. "Perhaps you're right," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "I don't know what love is. But I know what it feels like to need someone so much it consumes you. And that’s why you’re here, Cecilia. Because I can’t let you go."
For the first time, Cecilia saw past his arrogance and cruelty. She saw the broken man hiding behind the mask, the boy who had never known love or kindness and had grown into a man who believed he didn’t deserve it. Her hatred wavered, replaced by a flicker of pity she quickly suppressed. Edward Poletto was dangerous, and no amount of pain or loneliness could excuse what he had done.
Edward turned away, his back to her as he stared into the fire. "Hate me all you want," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you’re mine, Cecilia. And I’ll destroy anyone who tries to take you from me—even you, if I have to."
Cecilia’s heart pounded. Her breaths came shallow and fast, her mind racing with one desperate thought: escape. She had no plan beyond getting as far away from this gilded prison as possible.
Seeing Edward with his back to him, he stood up and ran, Edward who saw that just laughed
"Marco, follow him, make sure all the bodyguards are on guard and don't let him leave here."
"Okay sir."
The main doors were heavily guarded—Edward had made sure of that after her last attempt to flee. But she had overheard the maids talking about a side entrance near the servant's quarters. It was her only hope.
As she reached the narrow hallway leading to her escape, a rough hand clamped down on her arm. A gasp escaped her lips as she was yanked backward with startling force. Cecilia turned to face her captor and found herself staring into the stony eyes of Marco, Edward’s most loyal bodyguard.
"Where do you think you’re going?" Marco's voice was a low rumble, his grip unyielding.
"Let me go!" Cecilia hissed, struggling against his iron-like hold. "I don’t belong here. I’m not his property!"
Marco’s expression didn’t waver, but there was a flicker of pity in his eyes. "You know I can’t do that, Miss Cecilia. Orders are orders."
Before she could protest further, Cecilia heard the unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps. Her heart sank as Edward emerged from the shadows, his face a mask of cold fury. He was dressed impeccably, as always, the sharp lines of his tailored suit a stark contrast to the wild anger in his dark eyes.
"So," Edward said, his voice deceptively calm, "you thought you could just walk out of here? Out of *my* house?" He stepped closer, his towering presence suffocating. "Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?"
Cecilia glared at him, refusing to show fear. "You can lock me up, Edward, but you’ll never keep me. I’ll keep trying. Every day, every night. I’ll never stop until I’m free from you."
Edward’s lips curled into a cruel smile, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of something more—hurt, perhaps? "Admirable determination," he said, his tone mocking. "But futile. Marco, take her to her room. Lock it from the outside. And make sure she stays there."
Marco hesitated for a moment, glancing between Cecilia and Edward. But a single look from his employer was enough to make him obey. He dragged Cecilia down the hallway, ignoring her struggles and protests.
"Edward!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the empty halls. "You’re a coward! You hide behind your power because you’re too afraid to face what’s real. You’ll die alone, and no one will mourn you!"
Edward stood frozen, her words cutting deeper than he cared to admit. As the sound of her protests faded into the distance, he clenched his fists at his sides. He hated the chaos she stirred within him. Hated how her defiance made him feel something he couldn’t control—something he didn’t want to feel.
Moments later, Marco returned, his face unreadable. "She’s locked in, sir," he reported.
Edward nodded curtly, pouring himself another glass of wine. "Good. Make sure she doesn’t try this again."
Marco hesitated, then spoke cautiously. "If I may, sir… keeping her locked away won’t make her stay willingly."
Edward’s eyes darkened, and he turned to face his bodyguard. "She doesn’t have to stay willingly, Marco. She just has to stay."
Marco inclined his head and left without another word, leaving Edward alone in the vast dining hall. He sank into a chair, the weight of his own actions pressing heavily on him. He took a long sip of his wine, the bitterness mirroring the turmoil in his chest.
He didn’t want her to hate him. He didn’t want to hurt her. But he didn’t know how to love her without losing himself. Edward Poletto had spent his entire life building walls, wielding power, and ensuring no one could ever hurt him. And now, this woman—this infuriating, beautiful, stubborn woman—had shattered everything he thought he knew about himself.
Edward closed his eyes, the firelight dancing across his features. "You’ll understand one day, Cecilia," he whispered to the empty room. "You’ll understand why I can’t let you go."
Edward sat at the head of the grand dining table, the luxurious chandelier above casting a cold glow on his sharp features. His patience was wearing thin. The untouched meal before him signaled Cecilia’s defiance yet again. With a tight jaw, he signaled Rose, the loyal maid, to deliver his message. "Tell her," Edward commanded, his voice low and dangerous, "she’s joining me for dinner. Now." Rose hesitated for a moment, but a sharp glare from Edward sent her hurrying upstairs to Cecilia’s room. She knocked softly before stepping inside. Cecilia was sitting by the window, staring out at the darkening sky. "Miss Cecilia," Rose said gently, "Mr. Poletto requests your presence at the dinner table." "I’m not hungry," Cecilia replied coldly, without turning around. "Miss, you know how he is. Please, don’t make it worse." Cecilia turned to face Rose, her eyes blazing. "Let him be angry. I didn’t choose this life, and I won’t play along with his games." Rose sighed but didn’t argu
Edward stared at the deep red liquid in his glass, the reflection of the chandelier above rippling on its surface. His grip tightened slightly, and he muttered under his breath. "Why does she fight me at every turn?" he asked himself, his voice barely above a whisper. "I give her everything—comfort, safety, a life others can only dream of. But it’s never enough for her. Never." He leaned back, closing his eyes briefly as he swirled the wine in his glass again. "Maybe I’m going about this the wrong way," he admitted softly. "But what other way is there? I was never taught how to... care. Love. What does that even mean?" The silence in the room felt suffocating, his own thoughts louder than any conversation he’d had with Cecilia. He opened his eyes, staring into the wine as if it held the answers he sought. "She looks at me with so much hate," he murmured, his tone tinged with frustration. "But why? I’m not a monster. Am I?" He paused, then chuckled bitterly. "No, who am I kiddi
Edward, the notorious mafia king, sat in his grand office, the rich scent of cigars lingering in the air as he leisurely sipped from a glass of deep red wine. The atmosphere was thick with tension, yet Edward remained calm, almost detached from the chaos that simmered outside his door. His cold, calculating eyes reflected the power he held over his empire, but there was a dangerous glint in them, as though he were always two steps ahead of his enemies.Victor, his loyal and deadly bodyguard, approached silently, his presence always commanding, like a shadow that lurked in the corners of the room. His sharp gaze never faltered as he stepped into the office, his voice cutting through the silence."Boss," Victor began, his tone steady but tinged with urgency, "The Sien clan, the Italian mafia, seems to want to play with you. Your weapons were stolen at the port."Edward's eyes narrowed as the words registered. He leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass with deliberate sl
The night was cold, and the dim streetlights cast long shadows across the abandoned warehouse. Sean boss of the Sien clan, stood at the edge of the room. In his hand was a cigar, the smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling. He smiled sarcastically, his expression one of contemptuous amusement. The sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the cavernous space, breaking the stillness. Edward Poletto entered, his dark coat billowing slightly with his confident stride. His expression was unreadable, his piercing eyes scanning the room. There was a palpable tension in the air, the kind that precedes a storm. Sean’s grin widened as Edward came into view. “Finally, you came,” Sean drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. “It turns out you are very brave. I almost thought you’d send one of your errand boys instead.” Edward chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent a shiver through the room. He reached beneath his jacket, his hand brushing against the cool steel of the weapon conceale
Alejandro was standing by the window of his private office, gazing out over the sprawling city, his mind lost in thoughts of expansion and power. He had worked tirelessly to build his empire—his name a legend in the shadows, feared and respected by all. But the moment his bodyguard leaned in close, whispering urgently into his ear, everything came to a halt."Edward destroyed part of the Sien clan... and your brother, Sean, is badly hurt. I've already sent someone to bring him back from Italy."The words hit Alejandro like a bolt of lightning. His blood ran cold, and for a split second, his mind refused to process it. Edward—that bastard—had dared to touch his family. His grip tightened around the glass of whiskey in his hand, the ice rattling as his jaw clenched. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, barely able to contain the fury that rose from deep within. His bodyguard watched in silence, knowing well that this was not just anger, this was a storm—a rage that Alejandro had caref
Edward returned to the mansion, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of Cecilia. He walked swiftly through the halls until he reached Rose, who was tending to some tasks. He looked at her with a sharp gaze."How is Cecilia?" Edward asked, his voice cold.Rose hesitated for a moment before answering, her eyes lowering in respect. "She refuses to eat, sir."Without a word, Edward strode past her, his footsteps echoing in the quiet mansion. He made his way to Cecilia's room, his expression stern. He opened the door without knocking, finding Cecilia sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in thought. The moment she saw him, her eyes widened with surprise."What do you want?" Cecilia asked, her voice a mixture of fear and anger.Edward stepped forward, his dark eyes narrowing as he studied her. "You still haven't eaten.""No," Cecilia replied, her voice trembling but resolute.Without warning, Edward grabbed her wrist with a force that made her flinch. He pulled her up from the bed, his grip un
Edward stormed away from the dining room, his anger boiling over. He needed to escape from the suffocating tension, the biting words, and the damnable refusal in Cecilia’s eyes. Why was she so stubborn? Why couldn't she see that he was the one who could give her everything, the one who loved her? His hands clenched into fists as he made his way to his study, slamming the door shut behind him.Inside, the air felt colder, even though the room was well-lit and warm. He paced back and forth, his mind swirling with thoughts of Cecilia. His frustration mounted as he recalled the defiance in her voice, the way she rejected him so easily. Why can’t she love me? he thought bitterly, his mind racing. He had given her everything, his power, his wealth, his protection and still, she turned away. Why couldn’t she understand? He wasn’t like the others. He wasn’t like Joshua. He had won her, why couldn’t she just accept it?He gritted his teeth, his anger turning inward. This is my fault, he told h
Edward Poletto, the notorious mafia king, sat in the dimly lit courtyard of his sprawling estate, a glass of aged wine in hand. The evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the vineyards that stretched as far as the eye could see. It was his haven, a place where he could momentarily forget the weight of his empire and lose himself in the intoxicating aroma of ripening grapes and the rich flavors of his wine.He took a slow sip, savoring the complex notes of the vintage. His thoughts were distant, entangled with the ruthless decisions that came with his power, yet tinged with a certain emptiness. Edward had everything a man could desire—wealth, power, influence—but love was a foreign concept to him, something he had never truly known or cared for.As he leaned back in his chair, his eyes lazily scanned the workers toiling in the fields, But then, something—or rather, someone—caught his eye.A young woman was moving through the rows of vines with a grace tha
Edward stormed away from the dining room, his anger boiling over. He needed to escape from the suffocating tension, the biting words, and the damnable refusal in Cecilia’s eyes. Why was she so stubborn? Why couldn't she see that he was the one who could give her everything, the one who loved her? His hands clenched into fists as he made his way to his study, slamming the door shut behind him.Inside, the air felt colder, even though the room was well-lit and warm. He paced back and forth, his mind swirling with thoughts of Cecilia. His frustration mounted as he recalled the defiance in her voice, the way she rejected him so easily. Why can’t she love me? he thought bitterly, his mind racing. He had given her everything, his power, his wealth, his protection and still, she turned away. Why couldn’t she understand? He wasn’t like the others. He wasn’t like Joshua. He had won her, why couldn’t she just accept it?He gritted his teeth, his anger turning inward. This is my fault, he told h
Edward returned to the mansion, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of Cecilia. He walked swiftly through the halls until he reached Rose, who was tending to some tasks. He looked at her with a sharp gaze."How is Cecilia?" Edward asked, his voice cold.Rose hesitated for a moment before answering, her eyes lowering in respect. "She refuses to eat, sir."Without a word, Edward strode past her, his footsteps echoing in the quiet mansion. He made his way to Cecilia's room, his expression stern. He opened the door without knocking, finding Cecilia sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in thought. The moment she saw him, her eyes widened with surprise."What do you want?" Cecilia asked, her voice a mixture of fear and anger.Edward stepped forward, his dark eyes narrowing as he studied her. "You still haven't eaten.""No," Cecilia replied, her voice trembling but resolute.Without warning, Edward grabbed her wrist with a force that made her flinch. He pulled her up from the bed, his grip un
Alejandro was standing by the window of his private office, gazing out over the sprawling city, his mind lost in thoughts of expansion and power. He had worked tirelessly to build his empire—his name a legend in the shadows, feared and respected by all. But the moment his bodyguard leaned in close, whispering urgently into his ear, everything came to a halt."Edward destroyed part of the Sien clan... and your brother, Sean, is badly hurt. I've already sent someone to bring him back from Italy."The words hit Alejandro like a bolt of lightning. His blood ran cold, and for a split second, his mind refused to process it. Edward—that bastard—had dared to touch his family. His grip tightened around the glass of whiskey in his hand, the ice rattling as his jaw clenched. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, barely able to contain the fury that rose from deep within. His bodyguard watched in silence, knowing well that this was not just anger, this was a storm—a rage that Alejandro had caref
The night was cold, and the dim streetlights cast long shadows across the abandoned warehouse. Sean boss of the Sien clan, stood at the edge of the room. In his hand was a cigar, the smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling. He smiled sarcastically, his expression one of contemptuous amusement. The sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the cavernous space, breaking the stillness. Edward Poletto entered, his dark coat billowing slightly with his confident stride. His expression was unreadable, his piercing eyes scanning the room. There was a palpable tension in the air, the kind that precedes a storm. Sean’s grin widened as Edward came into view. “Finally, you came,” Sean drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. “It turns out you are very brave. I almost thought you’d send one of your errand boys instead.” Edward chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent a shiver through the room. He reached beneath his jacket, his hand brushing against the cool steel of the weapon conceale
Edward, the notorious mafia king, sat in his grand office, the rich scent of cigars lingering in the air as he leisurely sipped from a glass of deep red wine. The atmosphere was thick with tension, yet Edward remained calm, almost detached from the chaos that simmered outside his door. His cold, calculating eyes reflected the power he held over his empire, but there was a dangerous glint in them, as though he were always two steps ahead of his enemies.Victor, his loyal and deadly bodyguard, approached silently, his presence always commanding, like a shadow that lurked in the corners of the room. His sharp gaze never faltered as he stepped into the office, his voice cutting through the silence."Boss," Victor began, his tone steady but tinged with urgency, "The Sien clan, the Italian mafia, seems to want to play with you. Your weapons were stolen at the port."Edward's eyes narrowed as the words registered. He leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass with deliberate sl
Edward stared at the deep red liquid in his glass, the reflection of the chandelier above rippling on its surface. His grip tightened slightly, and he muttered under his breath. "Why does she fight me at every turn?" he asked himself, his voice barely above a whisper. "I give her everything—comfort, safety, a life others can only dream of. But it’s never enough for her. Never." He leaned back, closing his eyes briefly as he swirled the wine in his glass again. "Maybe I’m going about this the wrong way," he admitted softly. "But what other way is there? I was never taught how to... care. Love. What does that even mean?" The silence in the room felt suffocating, his own thoughts louder than any conversation he’d had with Cecilia. He opened his eyes, staring into the wine as if it held the answers he sought. "She looks at me with so much hate," he murmured, his tone tinged with frustration. "But why? I’m not a monster. Am I?" He paused, then chuckled bitterly. "No, who am I kiddi
Edward sat at the head of the grand dining table, the luxurious chandelier above casting a cold glow on his sharp features. His patience was wearing thin. The untouched meal before him signaled Cecilia’s defiance yet again. With a tight jaw, he signaled Rose, the loyal maid, to deliver his message. "Tell her," Edward commanded, his voice low and dangerous, "she’s joining me for dinner. Now." Rose hesitated for a moment, but a sharp glare from Edward sent her hurrying upstairs to Cecilia’s room. She knocked softly before stepping inside. Cecilia was sitting by the window, staring out at the darkening sky. "Miss Cecilia," Rose said gently, "Mr. Poletto requests your presence at the dinner table." "I’m not hungry," Cecilia replied coldly, without turning around. "Miss, you know how he is. Please, don’t make it worse." Cecilia turned to face Rose, her eyes blazing. "Let him be angry. I didn’t choose this life, and I won’t play along with his games." Rose sighed but didn’t argu
Cecilia sat stiffly at the far end of the long mahogany table, her hands clasped tightly on her lap, her gaze fixed on the untouched plate of food before her. Across from her, Edward leaned back in his chair, the sharp angles of his face illuminated by the flickering firelight. His dark eyes glimmered with a mixture of arrogance and something deeper—something he fought fiercely to conceal.Edward swirled the deep red liquid in his crystal goblet, his lips curving into a smile that barely touched his eyes. His laughter, low and mocking, echoed in the vast room as he tilted his head back and took a leisurely sip. "Ah, Cecilia," he drawled, his voice dripping with derision. "You sit there so prim and proper, as if you're a guest here by choice. But let's not pretend. You’re here because I willed it." Cecilia’s jaw tightened, her nails digging into her palms, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. She loathed the man before her—his arrogance, his cruelty, his relentl
Cecilia clung to Josh’s lifeless hand, her tears falling onto the cold metal of the hospital stretcher. Her fingers trembled as she traced the contours of his calloused palm, a hand that once held hers with so much love and promise. Now, it was stiff, devoid of the warmth she had cherished. “Josh,” she whispered brokenly, her voice cracking under the weight of her sorrow. “Why did this happen? Why did you leave me?” Her tears blurred her vision, but even through the haze, she could see the bruises and marks on his face—the signs of a struggle. Her heart clenched with both grief and fury. Josh had been strong and brave, but now he lay here, a victim of something far more sinister than a simple robbery. “I won’t forgive him,” Cecilia muttered, her voice low but resolute. Her words carried a weight that pierced through her despair. The nurse who had been silently observing from the doorway approached hesitantly. “Miss, I’m so sorry for your loss. But perhaps you should rest—” C