Andrew De LucaSeeing her leaving the house in such a wounded state, running as if she'd been severely hurt, made me realize one thing: I was a fool.“Go after her now,” I ordered one of the employees standing beside me.“What a mess, Don,” Lorenzo remarked, watching me closely.Emma didn't deserve this behavior from me. It might have been who I was, but I knew I felt something for her. I didn't want to lose the only woman who managed to stir any kind of emotion in me.As the security went to bring Emma back, Lorenzo noticed that the unbearable journalists had left after the gunfire I'd ordered.“Sir,” the maid approached, and I glanced at her. “Miss Ize and Mr. Gian will arrive today; their plane is due to land in a few hours. She requested that you pick them up from the airport.”My mind was so muddled; I'd forgotten that Ize and Gian were returning today. I'd arranged for them to go to Italy, where they'd be safe for a while until things settled down. But now, I needed my sister cl
POV EmmaAs that car drove without my knowledge of the destination, my thoughts merged. I pondered Andrew's kiss with another woman, wondered where his lunatic uncle was taking me, and what his intentions might be.My heart raced, and I struggled to maintain steady breathing, inhaling and exhaling, trying not to panic. I knew stressing out was a risk to the baby—I couldn't lose this child. It was all I had.“Where are you taking me? Please, tell me,” I pleaded with the driver, but to no avail.“I'm just doing my job, ma'am,” he replied.“Is your job kidnapping people? What a career choice. Your mother must be proud!” I spat out the words in frustration.My belly started to ache, a sharp pain I couldn't explain. I just hoped it wasn't anything with my child.The car slowed to a stop. I looked around, trying to memorize the place, but I was unfamiliar with it. I prayed to God to get me out of this. I was sure that amidst all the bad happening in my life, He hadn't abandoned me.The driv
Pov Andrew The lack of news was killing me every moment; I had to deal with Emma's disappearance and the likely betrayal by my own uncle. I paced back and forth in the office, searching for answers to everything that was happening.“Don, we'll figure this out. We'll get the money back and find Emma,” Lorenzo suggested, attempting to calm me down.“I don't give a shit about fucking money, Lorenzo. That's the least of my concerns. My worry is having a backstabbing uncle and my pregnant wife in his hands.”My wife… It was the first time I spoke it aloud, sincerely. My hands were icy, and surprisingly, neither whiskey nor cigars could calm me down.My face twisted with rage.“We need to make sure my uncle actually kidnapped Emma and what he intends to do with her. If it's true, I'll kill him with my own hands, I swear, Lorenzo,” I kept my eyes on the security cameras.“I don't understand the motives, Don. Antonio is wealthy, even more than he should be.”“Ambition!” I clenched my fists.
Pov EmmaThe silence enveloping this damned room was unbearable; I tried to be strong for myself and for this child. But my strength had dwindled.I was exhausted.Seated on the bed, I stare at the ring on my finger, and immediately, memories of him flood back. Andrew… My wedding day wasn't as I had hoped. I recall my last day at the diner, just before getting fired, the image of me on the bus, contemplating how many dreams I had and how I would achieve them.Here, sitting in this gloomy room, everything seemed distant. I'd never be able to pursue my education, there'd be no peace, and I didn't even know if I'd make it out of there alive.His name echoed in my mind, a reminder of that tormenting day, the whirlwind of emotions that was our wedding. Despite everything and his betrayal, I wished to be in his arms, away from this prison, away from all this uncertainty consuming me.It was incredible how someone could both uplift and shatter you. That's how I felt with Andrew. He could be
POV Andrew Everything in my life started going wrong when they closed my father's coffin, and my supposed adoptive mother left. Imagine, for a fifteen-year-old, that kind of pressure. I took on everything very young. That day was the only time I screamed. The pain of mourning was unbearable, and even though my father and I clashed, he was the only person I had left. Back then, all I could feel was hatred for her for leaving us, and I didn't know the real reasons why my mother had to go. But now I knew… and I also knew that she was Emma's real mother. Fate was a bastard and loved to play with people's lives. It was clear. For the longest time, I thought my uncle was my mentor. He took care of me while I was submissive and innocent, thinking he would stay in power. But when I matured enough to understand that all of this was mine, and if I wanted the respect and honor of being the Don, I had to walk on my own two feet, he began to distance himself. So, I did what I had to do. I did
POV Emma Losing myself in novels has always been my refuge, the highlight of my existence. Between pages, I'd dive into overwhelming loves and captivating stories, creating a parallel universe where the hope of true love resided. I dreamt of the possibility of a relationship full of devotion and reciprocity. However, never in any of my fantasies did I dare imagine that my destiny would intertwine in this way. But here I am now, carrying a baby, the result of a relationship with a feared mobster, and held captive by his uncle, a mad and dangerous man. It's a reality difficult to process, an unimaginable plot that transcends all the romances I've ever read. Andrew was a criminal, but was I any different? I saw a man die in front of me, Derick, and I admit, I felt no remorse at his passing. I don't know if I'm a horrible person. I admit, life before wasn't easy. I had to juggle shifts at the diner, most of the time, almost always, forced to work overtime to support the household,
POV Andrew After finding out my uncle was a backstabber, I wouldn't have any other choice—I'd go after him and kill if necessary. Emma was my responsibility, but more than that, he had betrayed my father for years, and being his brother, my father never suspected a thing. The worst betrayal was within the family, and he was going to pay for it, or my name wasn't Andrew. I sank into the armchair in the living room and lifted the glass to my lips. Whiskey, my drink of choice when I was enraged, and there was just too much to process all at once. The maid lit the fireplace; it was cold. My mind wandered to Emma. How was she doing now? I was terrified of losing her, more than I'd ever felt for anyone else. I felt powerless — not being able to save her without knowing exactly where she was. This time, I wasn't dealing with Giovanni Moretti; it was my own uncle. And I knew how ruthless and dangerous he could be. Lorenzo approached and sat beside me. We sat in silence, staring into th
POV Andrew I'm pacing back and forth, trying to figure out a solution to get Emma out of a place I don't even know where it is. I searched every possible location where she could be, but I have no clue. “He has properties here,” the detective I hired says. “It makes sense. But that would be such an obvious place to hide. Think about it, I know all of my uncle's and family's properties, hiding in one of those places would be too easy for me. I'd venture to say he must be in a different kind of place,” I said. “Andrew is right. I believe he's smart, knows how to hide better than we think.” “He has the De Luca blood. That's the problem,” I pound the table. “Let's narrow down the radius to a smaller location,” the detective suggested. I nodded and left the room. Each day away from Emma made me more and more frustrated. It's like every object in the office room becomes a target for my anger. My clenched fist hit the table, sending papers and pens flying, then I hurled books against