Don Antonio's POVThe image of Patricia, her eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and malice, haunted me throughout the night. Her words, "She still talks about you sometimes, you know. Says she misses you," echoed in my mind all through my sleep, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions. I had thought I had moved on from Isabella, from the pain of our divorce. But Patricia's words had reopened old wounds. Does she still think about me? About us?Isabella. My Isabella. We had been so young, so deeply in love. We had built a life together, a life that had shattered like a fragile vase. The memory of her tear-stained face, the pain in her eyes as she told me about the affair, still tormented me over these years. Even though we had gone our separate ways for almost two decades, the memories are still fresh like a green grass in my mind.I picked up my phone and dialed her number. It rang a few times before she answered, her voice cautious. "Isabella," I began, my voice hesitant. "It's me
Alexa's POV I was less tense on my way to work this morning, so I decided to pay my mom a visit. It was better now that my mood was relaxed, than later in the day when Elsie might have done something to upset me. The hospital room was a burst of color, a stark contrast to the sterile white walls it used to be. I didn't want to overthink it, but it was a sign that my mom was feeling way better than she used to.She was sitting up in bed, looking surprisingly lively, engaged in a lively conversation with a handsome young doctor. He had a kind smile and a twinkle in his eyes as he listened to my mother recount her latest escapades, her voice filled with a mischievous glint. "And then," my mother was saying, "I told the nurse that her hairspray was interfering with my oxygen supply!"The doctor chuckled. "I can see why you're the most popular patient on this floor, ma'am."My mother beamed. "Oh, you flatter me, Doctor," she replied, her eyes twinkling. I cleared my throat to get thei
Alexa's POV My mind was a whirlwind of emotions during my drive home. I kept replaying the conversation I had with my mom in my head, every word, every inflection of her voice. Has she always felt this way about Don Antonio? Or was this a recent development, a reaction to the scandal that threatened to engulf us? And then, there was Dr. Jeremy. His kind smile, his genuine interest in my mother… I couldn't deny that he was charming. And my mother, bless her heart, was definitely drawn to him. She wanted him for me. I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I couldn't let myself get distracted. I had bigger problems to deal with. Elsie, the blackmail, my father's disapproval… The weight of it all was suffocating. I pulled into the driveway, my hands trembling as I unlocked the door. The apartment felt cold and empty, a stark contrast to the warmth and chaos of the hospital room. I sank onto the couch, the events of the day crashing down on me. I picked up my phone, hoping to se
Don Antonio's POV The hours ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. I paced my penthouse suite, the panoramic night view of the city offering no solace. My phone remained stubbornly silent, the last attempt to call Alexa ending in voicemail. She had been calling me insistently for the last few days, so why wasn't she picking up her calls? Especially tonight when I had planned on surprising her with a romantic dinner. I was getting worried sick with each passing minute. What if something had happened to her? What if the stalker she had been complaining about had finally caught up with her and put her in danger?When I could no longer take it, I called my security detail. "Marco," I said, my voice tight with anxiety, "I need you to do something for me right now if possible. I know you might have already called it a night, but I will double your pay if that's what it would take."Marco, my trusted confidante and head of security, was all business. "I don't mind what time is it
Alexa's POV The image of Dr. Jeremy's charming smile flashed in my mind, even before I noticed the golden rays of the beautiful sunrise. I had spent the previous night after the date battling conflicting emotions – guilt for snapping at my mother, fear for my relationship with Don Antonio, and a strange, unsettling curiosity about Dr. Jeremy. The date had been unexpected. I had gone into it hesitant, unsure of what to expect. But Dr. Jeremy, with his easy charm and genuine interest, had quickly put me at ease. We had spent the evening laughing, sharing stories, and discovering a shared love for old movies and swimming. We had even planned to go swimming sometime next week. It had been a refreshing change of pace, a welcome distraction from the anxieties that had been plaguing me.I slid up from my duvet until my back met the headboard. As I stretched my arms, a strange sense of contentment washed over me. I had actually enjoyed myself. I had stepped outside my comfort zone, and it
Alexa's POVMy hands trembled as I stared at the envelope sitting on my desk. It was plain, unmarked, delivered by Elsie's secretary just moments ago. I knew, with chilling certainty, what it contained. Elsie's threat, "I will do whatever I want, Alexa. This is both a threat and a warning," echoed in my mind.I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the seal. Part of me wanted to ignore it, to pretend it didn't exist. But I knew I couldn't. Elsie wouldn't let me. This was her opening move, a calculated strike designed to instill fear and force me into submission.Taking a deep breath, I tore open the envelope. Inside, nestled amongst crisp white paper, were the photographs.They were damning. The same images of Don Antonio and me, locked in a passionate embrace. The kiss, captured from multiple angles, left no room for misinterpretation. Our faces were clearly shown. My breath hitched. My stomach churned. I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. These pictures… they could destroy everythi
Don Antonio's POVThe office, usually a sanctuary of power and control, felt suffocating. Alexa stood before me, her eyes red-rimmed, her face pale. The sight of her distress should have filled me with protectiveness, but instead, a cold fury surged through me. I had spent the night tossing and turning, replaying everything Marco said about her dinner date in my mind. Worry gnawed at me, a primal fear of losing her love gripping my chest.And then, this morning, Alexa was acting as if nothing had happened at all. Her reaction had hit me like a physical blow. Seeing her laughing, truly laughing, with another man, had been a gut punch. It was as if someone had ripped my heart out of my chest. The images burned into my retinas, a constant reminder of her happiness, a happiness that didn't include me. I had wanted to confront her, to unleash the torrent of emotions that had been brewing inside me. But the sight of her distress, the tears welling up in her eyes, shattered my resolve. "
Alexa's POVThe silence in my office was deafening, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. Don Antonio had just left, leaving me reeling from the shock of seeing the photos, the fear of Elsie's threats, and the unexpected turn of our conversation. I slumped back in my chair, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. She had seen us, captured our intimacy for her own malicious purposes. The thought of my father seeing those pictures, the scandal that would erupt, sent a wave of nausea washing over me.I sighed deeply, remembering the hideous part of the situation even more pressing – the fact that Don Antonio knows about my date with Jeremy. How the heck did he know Jeremy's name? Had he really sent a spy to monitor us? Shutting my eyes, I sighed again. But then, I thought back to Don Antonio's words, his voice firm and determined. "We'll play her own game," he had said. "We'll let her think she's won. And then, we'll strike back."Hope, a fragile spark,
Alexa's POVI paced restlessly, my half-hearted attempts to get ready abandoned. My reflection in the mirror was a stranger – pale, drawn, with shadows under my eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and gnawing worry.But I couldn't let it consume me. Not tonight and certainly not completely. Jeremy deserved better. He deserved my attention, my gratitude, a semblance of the warmth he so freely offered. I couldn't allow my father's cryptic message to completely overshadow the evening.I took a deep breath, forcing myself to straighten my shoulders. "What will be, will be," I told myself, a mantra against the rising tide of panic. I couldn't control the future. I couldn't undo the past. All I could do was try to navigate the present with a shred of grace.I decided to start over, to approach the evening with a renewed sense of purpose. I chose a dress, a simple but elegant black number that made me feel a little more confident, a little more put-together. I took my time with my hair and m
The villa was a haven of tranquility, a place designed to soothe the soul and heal the body. The gentle rhythm of the waves lapping against the shore, the fragrant scent of the tropical flowers, the luxurious comfort of my surroundings – all of it should have brought me peace. But it didn't. It couldn't.I spent hours by the infinity pool, the warm sun on my skin, the cool water a temporary balm against the fire that raged within me. Isabella was attentive and kind, her presence a constant, gentle reminder of my need for rest and recovery.Her touch was gentle, her voice soothing. She brought me fresh fruit, read to me from books, and tried, with unwavering patience, to engage me in conversation. She was everything they said I needed. Everything except her.I would smile, offer polite responses, and attempt to feign interest in her stories. But my mind was a battlefield, a constant struggle against the relentless tide of longing that threatened to consume me.Everywhere I looked, I sa
The apartment was a dimly lit sanctuary, the silence broken only by the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. Jeremy’s call had hung in the air, a gentle reminder of the dinner he had planned, a dinner I was woefully unprepared for. I hadn’t even started getting ready. My clothes lay scattered on the bed. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, a relentless replay of Don Antonio’s voice, his laughter, the feeling of his hand in mine. How is he? Is he alright? Does he miss me as much as I miss him? The questions echoed in the quiet apartment, drowning out any attempt at rational thought. I stared at my reflection in the darkened window, a pale, drawn face staring back. My hair, usually carefully styled, was a tangled mess, pulled back into a haphazard bun. I hadn’t bothered with makeup, and the dark circles under my eyes spoke volumes about my sleepless nights. Jeremy’s invitation, meant to be a gesture of kindness and support, felt like an impossible task. The thought of dressi
Alexa's POVMy phone, lying face down on the kitchen counter, buzzed, shattering the oppressive quiet moment Sarah and I were enjoying. I hesitated, my hand hovering over it, reluctant to break the fragile shell of my peace. Finally, I flipped it over. Jeremy’s name flashed across the screen.“Hey,” I managed, my voice hoarse, a mere whisper.“Alexa? You sound…rough,” Jeremy said, his voice laced with concern. “Are you alright?”“As alright as I can be,” I replied, trying to inject a semblance of normalcy into my tone, but it was a poor attempt.There was a pause, a moment of shared silence that stretched between us. I could almost feel his empathy, his unspoken understanding.We hung up after catching up with work and making plans for dinner the next day. The silence returned in the room, but this time, it felt different. It was still heavy, but it was no longer suffocating. It was a silence filled with the echo of Jeremy’s affection towards me, a reminder that I wasn’t entirely alon
Don Antonio's POVI shifted restlessly in the bed, the faint ache in my chest a dull echo of the deeper pain that gnawed at my heart. Xavier and the doctor stood at the foot of the bed, their expressions a carefully constructed blend of concern and authority. They had won. They had convinced me."It's for the best, Don Antonio," the doctor had said, his voice calm and measured. "You need to focus on your recovery. The change of scenery, the peace and quiet... it will do you good."Xavier had echoed his sentiments, his usually stoic face softened with a rare hint of pleading. "It's what's best for you, sir. A chance to heal, away from the stress."They spoke of stress as if it were a simple ailment, a manageable inconvenience. They didn't understand the depth of the wound, the gaping hole in my soul that threatened to consume me. The thought of leaving Alexa, of putting distance between us, was a torment. Every fiber of my being yearned for her, for the sound of her voice, the warmth o
46. A Glimmer of HopeAlexa's POVMy heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the suffocating silence of Elsie's apartment. "Anything?" I echoed, my voice barely a whisper, the word hanging heavy with desperation. "What do you want? No… How much do you want?"Elsie's eyes gleamed, a predatory glint that sent a shiver down my spine. "Oh, Alexa," she purred, her voice laced with amusement, "you know I'm not interested in money.""Then what is it?" I pleaded, my voice trembling. "Just tell me. What do you want from me?"She rose from the sofa, her movements slow and deliberate, like a cat stalking its prey. She circled me, her gaze lingering on my face, her smile a cruel mask."Like I have said over a thousand times, I want you to suffer," she said, her voice dropping to a low, menacing whisper. "I want you to feel the pain I've felt. I want you to lose everything you hold dear."Her words hit me like a physical blow, a wave of nausea washing over me. "You're insane," I
Alexa's POVThe silence of my apartment was suffocating. It wasn't just the absence of Antonio's laughter or the warmth of his touch. It was a deeper silence, a void where our shared secrets and forbidden desires once thrived.I paced the living room, my restlessness a physical manifestation of the turmoil within me. Antonio's rejection, his cold dismissal, had left a gaping wound in my heart. But even amidst the pain, a nagging unease lingered, a shadow cast by Elsie's lingering threat. I haven't forgotten that she knows about my godfather and me and will use it against me any moment from now. The thought was a chilling reminder of my vulnerability, of the precariousness of my situation. What was she planning? What was her endgame?I couldn't shake the feeling that Elsie was the key to everything. She was the puppet master, pulling the strings, orchestrating the chaos that had engulfed my life. I had to confront her, to find out what she wanted, to understand her motives.With a sur
Don Antonio's POV The silence after Alexa left gnawed at me. The image of her retreating figure, the echo of her unspoken apology, ignited a firestorm of emotions within me.Betrayal. Disappointment. Anger.How dare she? How dare she come here, after everything, after her lies and her deception, and expect forgiveness? How dare she look at me with those pleading eyes, as if she were the victim?My chest tightened, a familiar pressure building, but this time, it wasn't the lingering effects of the heart attack. It was a raw, unadulterated fury that threatened to consume me.My gaze fell upon the tangle of tubes and wires connected to my body, the lifelines that bound me to this sterile prison. They were a symbol of my weakness, a reminder of my vulnerability. And I hated them.With a surge of adrenaline, I ripped the tubes away, the sharp sting of the needles tearing from my skin barely registering. The heart monitor erupted in a frantic alarm, the shrill sound echoing through the roo
Alexa's POVMy father's question hung in the air, a heavy weight pressing down on me. How could I explain the tangled web of lies, the hidden relationship, the guilt that gnawed at my soul?I opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come. My throat constricted, tears blurring my vision. I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me, the weight of the situation threatening to crush me.My father's expression softened, his eyes filled with concern. "Alexa," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle, "tell me what is going on?"I shook my head, unable to speak, unable to meet his gaze. I felt his hand on my shoulder, a reassuring touch that only intensified my guilt."Come on," he said, his voice firm but kind. "Let's go somewhere we can talk."He led me to a quiet corner of the lobby, away from the prying eyes and hushed whispers. I sank onto a chair, my body trembling, my mind racing."Now," my father said, sitting beside me, "tell me what's going on. Why are you here? Why were you argu