Elara's POV My head is spinning. Everything around me looks blurred, but Damien Rossi's intense gaze holds me still. Did he really say my child? Did I even hear him right? Or did he mean… Laila? I look around, but Mr. Wilson’s stunned expression confirms my confusion isn’t just in my head. “Mr. Rossi,” I finally manage to say, my voice small and almost trembling, “What do you mean?” Damien’s gaze softens, but only slightly. His lips press together as if he’s trying to swallow his own words. For a moment, he looks… almost vulnerable. Then he runs a hand through his hair, sighs deeply, and glances over at Lorenzo. “Lorenzo,” he whispers, his voice tired—a tone that should never come from a man this powerful. "Please clear the party.” Lorenzo doesn’t waste a second. He smiles at the guests, his voice ringing through the room as he says, “Well, ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming tonight. The beach party will commence tomorrow afternoon. For now, let’s all get some rest
Elara's POV The moment I lock eyes with Antonio Rossi—my dad—it feels like the entire world around me disappears. It’s as if only he and I stand there. His eyes widen, and he freezes on the spot, even though he had rushed in just moments before. We just stare at each other for what feels like hours until he seems to recognize himself. He takes a step toward me, his hands reaching out to wipe his eyes. “Ara?” he calls out, using the same name Damien had called me a few hours earlier. Ara. “Oh my god! It’s true, Damien. It’s true! My Bambina is here,” he says, his voice thick with an accent. “Yes, brother. It’s true. Our Bambina is here,” Damien replies with his own smile. At that, it seems like whatever shock Antonio Rossi had been in finally snaps. Because in the next second, he lunges toward me, pulling me out of Lorenzo’s arms and wrapping me tightly in his own. So tight. But my hands just hang at my sides, awkwardly dangling. It seems like Antonio notices that I’m not hugging
Lorenzo's POV The chilly night wind blows through the atmosphere as we stand outside, but none of us seem to care, not when Elara is inside, possibly crying her eyes out. I run a hand through my hair in frustration, keeping my eyes fixed on the door, waiting for her to come out any minute. A heavy silence hangs in the air until I feel eyes boring into me. I turn to see Damien Rossi watching me, his expression unreadable. "Any problem, sir?" I ask, trying to act composed, although his stare makes my hands tremble. He doesn’t respond, just continues staring, his gaze sharp and calculating. I exchange a glance with Alexander, who shrugs and casually pulls out his phone, clearly trying to avoid attracting any attention to himself. "Mr. Rossi, I asked if there’s a problem," I repeat. "You're just staring." Damien's mouth curls into a faint smirk. "Well, well, well, Lorenzo," he says. "I've been wondering, how did you meet my niece?" My heart skips a beat, and I freeze, knowing fully
Elara's POV Almost thirty minutes pass before I'm able to convince my dad to let me go with Lorenzo. He wants me to stop working for him and travel with him and Uncle Damien to the North. But the thought of all I've grown accustomed to—Jayden, the orphanage, the East Side, Alexander, and the grey-eyed man standing behind me—makes me choose to stay here. Uncle Damien stops Dad from trying to persuade me, then tells me they'll just relocate to the Central Side and stay with me. After exchanging goodbyes, we finally head to Lorenzo’s vehicle. Once we’re strapped in, the driver pulls away. Lorenzo glances at me, his voice softer than usual. "Thank you, Elara." I raise an eyebrow, as much as I can, considering how tired I am. "Thank me? For what?" "For choosing me. Choosing to come with me," he whispers, a smile playing on his lips. "I don’t know what I would have done if—" "Oh, Lorenzo, please," I cut him off. "You don’t really think I chose you, do you? The only reason I’m her
Elara’s POV “What the hell is going on here?” My father’s voice echoes through the room, strong and commanding. His eyes, blazing with anger, lock onto us as he stands in the doorway with Uncle Damien. I stare at the ground, unable to meet their gazes, my mind racing. How do I explain why I was making out with my boss to my dad and uncle? I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off. “Not you.” His gaze shifts to Lorenzo. “I’m talking to this man.” Lorenzo takes a deep breath and steps forward, his expression calm. “Mr. Rossi, I believe you’ve seen enough to understand the situation. So there’s no need to dance around it. I care deeply about your daughter, and I would like your permission to date her.” My eyes widen at his words. Date? Does he actually want to pursue something real with me? Lorenzo’s declaration leaves me stunned. Did he mean what he had said when he kissed me back home? My father laughs, a loud, mocking sound. “You’ve got some nerve, Lorenzo. I won’t allow you
Lorenzo's POVAs Elara leaves the room, her uncle plops down on the sofa behind him."Really, Anton? Really? We just got this girl back. And what next? You just had to be so... be yourself. You called and intimidated yourself with your own daughter? I'm embarrassed."Antonio runs a hand through his hair, pacing the room. "I'm sorry. I don't know what got over me. This is all new to me.""Yes, new to you, huh? Well, you better learn how to start acting around people like your recently found daughter, or else you're going to lose her when you just got her."I internally agree with Damien. But, one way or another, I am not letting Elara go, even if it means I have to take drastic measures to keep her close to me.I start walking toward the door, but Antonio's voice stops me in my tracks."Now, where do you think you're going?"I turn to face him, my jaw tightening as I fight to keep my composure. "Mr. Rossi, I would appreciate it if you just let me go to where I am about to go.""And whe
Elara's POV I weave my way through the crowded hall. A place this magnificent costs more than the life earnings of a hundred men. Yet, the rich and influential use it for display. The soft strains of jazz music float through the hall. I feel a little out of place, in my dazzling red dress which costs no more than a few dollars. Looking around, I try to see if anyone notices the difference between the cheap material and the thousand-dollar dresses adorning everyone else in the room. Nobody pays any attention to me, all focused on showing off their wealth. A deep baritone voice suddenly cuts through my self-judgment. “Ladies and gentlemen, you are welcome to my 28th birthday party. We are family, and I hope you all feel free." The crowd breaks out in cheers, applauding the man who steals the room's attention with his captivating silver eyes, his affluent accent, and his elegant attire. They have to. Of course, he just said they belong to one family. The wealthy as one and the poo
Elara's POVMy heart clenches with each thud as the footsteps draw closer to the door. Sprinting to my feet, I hide the wallet in my bag and rush towards the bed, lifting the covers and sprawling against Lorenzo.His broad body takes up much space as he's lying in the middle, so I have to lie on him. His body feels surprisingly cold, and if not for the warmth of his breath against my forehead, I would think he is a corpse.My eyebrows furrow as my mind erupts in thoughts: could it be the effect of the drug? But the packet says only headache and slight dizziness may occur as side effects, and that would only be when the person wakes up.A loud knock on the door breaks through my train of thought, my eyes widening while my heart feels like it's about to explode. "Lorenzo! Lorenzo, you in there? I know you're having fun and all, but it's just 15 minutes to cake cutting, so hurry your ass up."My breath hitches, and I feel sweat trickling down my skin. The man outside expects us to be...