Don Antonio's POVA dull ache throbbed behind my eyes as I blinked against the harsh white light. My senses were sluggish, my body heavy and unresponsive. A low hum filled the air, punctuated by the rhythmic beeping of a machine I couldn't identify. Where was I? What had happened?As my vision cleared, I saw two figures hovering over me. Isabella, her face etched with worry, her eyes red-rimmed. And Xavier, his usually stoic expression softened with relief."Antonio," Isabella breathed, her voice thick with emotion. "You're awake! Thank heavens!"Xavier nodded, a rare smile touching his lips. "Welcome back, sir."Their words reached me through a fog, their meaning slow to register. I tried to speak, to ask what had happened, but my voice was a dry croak."Don't strain yourself, dear," Isabella said, gently pushing me back against the pillows. "You've been unconscious for a while."Memories flickered through my mind, fragmented and disjointed. The suspicion about Alexa and her Dr Jerem
Alexa's POVThe hospital lobby was a blur of white coats and hushed whispers, a stark contrast to the chaos raging within me. My heart thumped against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat urging me forward, even as my legs trembled with fear. I had to see him. I had to know he was alright.Jeremy had dropped me off at the entrance, his expression a mix of concern and hesitant support. I barely registered his words as I rushed through the automatic doors, my eyes scanning the crowded space for a familiar face.I spotted a nurse at the reception desk and rushed towards her, my voice trembling. "Don Antonio Bavarish," I stammered. "I need to see him. I'm..." I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. "I'm a close friend."The nurse's expression was polite, but her tone was firm. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I can't give you any information without authorization. Are you family?""No," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "But... but I need to see him. Please."Before the nurse could respond, a fam
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
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 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
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
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
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 POVDespite Dr. Ramirez’s protests, I decided to discharge myself, because the burning need to understand the attack outweighed the lingering pain in my shoulder. Xavier, ever vigilant, had arranged for discreet transportation.We arrived at the warehouse district under the cloak of pre-dawn gloom. The air hung heavy with the acrid smell of smoke and damp ash. As Xavier’s car pulled to a stop before my largest storage facility, the sight that greeted me stole my breath.Half of the sprawling structure was a blackened husk, the skeletal remains of steel beams reaching towards the bruised morning sky. Charred debris lay scattered like fallen giants, and the air still shimmered with residual heat. The stench of destruction was overwhelming, a physical manifestation of the violation I had endured.A grim silence settled in the car. Xavier’s face was a mask of controlled fury. I stared at the devastation, a cold dread gripping my heart. This wasn’t just a random act of violen
Alexa’s POVThe moment I stepped off the elevator onto the executive floor, the atmosphere felt thick and strange. The usual polite nods and greetings from the staff were replaced by sneaky glances and hushed whispers. Eyes darted away as I made my way towards my father's office, a palpable tension hanging in the air. It was as if I had become an outcast overnight.My former secretary looked particularly uncomfortable. She avoided eye contact, shuffling papers on her desk with unusual intensity."Hi," I said, my voice low but firm. "I need to see my father."She finally looked up, her expression a mixture of sympathy and fear. "Alexa…he's still in a meeting. And he…he really doesn't want to be disturbed.""It's important," I insisted. "Something has happened."She hesitated, glancing nervously towards the closed doors of my father's office. Then, she leaned in, her voice barely a whisper. "It's…it's all over the office, Alexa.""What is?" I asked, a knot of unease tightening in my sto
Alexa’s POVThe news about Don Antonio had sent a jolt of icy terror through me, eclipsing my own immediate problems. My father's anger, Claire's cruelty, losing my job – all of it paled in comparison to the horrifying image of Don Antonio lying injured, fighting for his life.A fierce urgency gripped me. I had to get to him. Miami felt a world away, but the thought of him being alone, hurt, fueled a desperate resolve. My mother, though worried, understood my need to be there. She helped me pack a small bag, her movements efficient and filled with a quiet determination to support me.My first practical step was booking a flight. I pulled out my credit card, the familiar platinum rectangle that had always been a symbol of my independence and security. I navigated the airline's website, selected the earliest flight to Miami, and entered my card details with a shaky hand.Then, the screen flashed red.Transaction Declined.A wave of confusion washed over me. There must be some mistake. I
Don Antonio’s POVI was aware of the sterile scent of antiseptic, the rhythmic beeping of machines, the hushed voices that seemed to drift in and out of my consciousness. They were fighting for me. I could feel it, a tug-of-war between life and the cold embrace of oblivion.My shoulder throbbed with a relentless fire, a constant reminder of the brutal violation I had endured. My vision swam in and out of focus, glimpses of worried faces hovering above me before fading back into the blurry expanse.Then, a memory, sharp and vivid, cut through the haze.The dimly lit study, the air thick with unspoken accusations. Donald stood across from me, his face a mask of anguish and fury. The years of friendship, the shared laughter, the unwavering trust – all seemed to have evaporated, leaving behind a raw, festering wound."How could you, Antonio?" he had choked out, his voice trembling with a pain that mirrored the betrayal I now felt radiating from him.I had tried to explain, to reason, to c
Alexa’s POVThe days that followed were a blur of quiet support from my mother and a persistent ache in my heart. She stayed with me in my apartment, her presence a comforting balm against the raw edges of my despair. She didn't push me to talk, but she was always there, a silent reassurance that I wasn't entirely alone.One afternoon, as I sat listlessly on the sofa, staring out at the city skyline that no longer held the promise of my future, my mother sat beside me, a thoughtful expression on her face."Alexa," she began softly, her voice gentle but firm. "You can't stay like this, I'm not okay with it."I turned to her, my eyes still heavy with unshed tears. "What else is there, Mom? My career is gone." I trailed off, the pain of their rejection still too raw to articulate fully.She took my hand, her touch grounding. "You're talented, Alexa. You have a sharp mind, and you worked hard to build your position at Bavarish Industries. That knowledge, that experience…it hasn't disappea
Alexa’s POVThe first sensation was a dull, throbbing ache behind my eyes and a thick, cottony feeling in my mouth. Sunlight, unwelcome and harsh, pierced through the gap in my curtains, making me groan and bury my face deeper into the pillow.Slowly, reluctantly, I dragged myself back to consciousness. Fragmented memories of the previous night flickered through my mind – the devastating call with Claire, the numbing burn of the scotch, the heavy descent into oblivion. A wave of nausea washed over me, a physical reminder of my self-destructive spiral.With a sigh, I reached for my phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up, displaying a string of missed calls. Several from Don Antonio. My heart gave a painful lurch. He had tried to reach me. Multiple times. There were also a few missed calls from Jeremy, and surprisingly, even one from Elsie.Confusion warred with a lingering sense of dread. Why were they all trying to contact me? Especially Elsie.As I sat up, the room swam slightly,
Don Antonio’s POV The news hit me like another blow, compounding the anxiety that had been gnawing at me since my source confirmed Donald knew. Isabella, in one of her rare moments of cruel satisfaction, had seen to it that the information reached me swiftly. Alexa had been fired. Terminated, effective immediately.The clinicality of the words sent a fresh wave of panic surging through me. Donald’s anger was clearly far more intense than I had even imagined. To cut Alexa off from her career, from her own standing within his empire, was a brutal and decisive act. It spoke of a complete severing of ties, a public denouncement that chilled me to the bone.My first thought, as always, was for Alexa. How was she coping with this? Was she alone? Was she scared? The image of her facing Donald’s wrath, and now this devastating consequence, filled me with a helpless fury. I should have been there. I should have protected her.My hand trembled as I snatched my phone, Alexa’s number already imp
Alexa’s POVThe drive home was a blur of tears and disjointed thoughts. My hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, as I navigated the familiar streets, but the world outside the car window seemed alien and distorted. My father's words echoed in my mind, each syllable a fresh wave of pain.Fired. Just like that. My career, my identity within the family business, the future I had envisioned – all of it ripped away in a single, brutal pronouncement. It felt like a part of me had died in that office, leaving behind a hollow ache and a terrifying void.My whole life felt like it was unraveling. The foundation I had built, brick by painstaking brick, had crumbled beneath the weight of my father's anger and betrayal. What was I now? Just Alexa Bavarish, adrift without the anchor of my family's name and influence.The city lights blurred through my tear-filled vision, each one a mocking reminder of the life I was losing. The familiar landmarks of my daily commute felt foreign, impla
Alexa’s POV The moment I stepped into my father's office, the atmosphere was thick with a cold, simmering rage that was more terrifying than any shouting. He stood behind his imposing mahogany desk, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge, his eyes blazing with a fury I had rarely witnessed. Elsie came in at some point and stood silently to the side, her expression a strange mix of uncertainty and vindication.Before I could even open my mouth to ask what was wrong, what the urgent matter was, his hand shot out with lightning speed. The resounding crack of his palm against my cheek echoed in the sudden silence of the room.My head snapped to the side, a searing pain erupting across my face. My ears rang, and for a disoriented moment, the opulent office swam before my eyes. I stumbled back, my hand instinctively flying to my burning cheek, my eyes wide with shock and disbelief.Tears welled instantly, blurring my vision. My father had never, ever, laid a hand on me in anger. This wa