Starting from the next chapter, Carlo’s heartbreaking childhood will gradually be revealed! Stay tuned!
Leonardo Ferretti now resides in a small coastal town along the eastern shoreline. Ever since waking from his three-year coma just three months ago, he relocated to this quiet place to recover and undergo rehabilitation.Carlo drove for four hours before finally arriving at the mansion perched on the edge of a cliff.The salty sea breeze whipped against the rocky shoreline, and the distant sound of crashing waves felt like a deep, unsettling murmur. The mansion stood tall and imposing at the highest point of the coastline, like a fortress detached from the rest of the world. Yet, for Carlo, this place wasn’t one of safety or comfort. Instead, it was filled with shadows and hostility.As soon as he stepped out of the car, Leonardo's butler approached, bowing slightly. “Sir, Mr. Ferretti is resting. He’s requested that you wait in the sitting room,” he said. Carlo nodded and followed him inside. The mansion’s interior was as grand and opulent as ever, with intricate décor that spoke of
Carlo stepped into his father’s study, and the stifling air hit him immediately. The room was steeped in silence, with only the faint sound of waves crashing against the cliffs outside, as if the ocean itself was sighing endlessly. Near the large floor-to-ceiling windows, Leonardo Ferretti sat quietly in his wheelchair, his gaze unfocused as it lingered on the vast ocean before him, lost in a state of deep, weary contemplation.At sixty, Leonardo's body was beginning to show signs of aging. Three years ago, an assassination attempt from a family rival nearly claimed his life. Though he miraculously survived the gunshot wound to the head, it left him comatose for three years. He had only recently regained consciousness three months ago, but the ordeal had taken its toll. His once powerful physique had withered, and now he moved with difficulty, his pallor a stark reminder of his vulnerability.This man, who once led the most powerful Mafia family on the East Coast with an iron fist, w
Carlo smiled faintly, his tone devoid of any emotion as he said calmly, "Father, with mother taking care of you, you’ll be fine. As for me, I have a lot of business to handle. After all, in the three years you were in the hospital, other powers have taken quite a bit of the family's territory. It’s a blessing you’ve woken up, but your recovery will take time. Surely, you wouldn’t want everything you built to be handed over to others while you’re still healing, would you?”Though Carlo's voice was steady, the truth behind his words was undeniable.Leonardo’s expression softened slightly, a trace of approval flashing in his eyes. He knew that Carlo had indeed made great efforts in the family business, especially during the past three years when the turmoil within the Ferretti family had become increasingly apparent.Mrs. Ferretti, his legitimate wife, came from another powerful Mafia family, but over the years, her family had declined. Her son, Blake, lacked any real capability—driven by
As Carlo stepped out of his father's study, the butler was waiting, almost as if Leonardo had planned it all. The butler approached swiftly, informing Carlo that Valentina Bianchi was in the vineyard behind the mansion.The Ferretti family’s legitimate business included luxury wines, and the mansion boasted a small vineyard and winery, often used to entertain important guests or host grand events.When Carlo entered the vineyard, he saw Valentina quietly painting under the shade of the grapevines. Valentina was a talented artist, and although she had given up her dream of becoming a painter for Leonardo, her skills had not diminished over the years.Carlo didn’t disturb her. He silently moved behind her, watching her in admiration. She was painting a serene scene of the vineyard—the sunlight filtering through the leaves, grapevines wrapped around wooden trellises, and in the distance, the small winery building stood peacefully, bathed in golden light.Leonardo had handed over a dozen
He thought back to the girl named Isabella Cavalieri.Over a year ago, when he was on the run in Italy, he had accidentally revealed his whereabouts. The assassins sent by Blake relentlessly pursued him, forcing him into a dead-end. Desperate, he dashed into a bustling bar, hoping the noise and crowd would conceal his presence.Later, he learned that the bar belonged to the Cavalieri family. The assassins had made a scene, angering the eldest daughter of the Cavalieri clan. She sent her bodyguards to drive them away, thus saving Carlo.He overheard people addressing her as Miss Cavalieri, and instantly realized that the seemingly delicate girl in front of him was from the famous Italian Mafia family. Carlo was not one to let opportunities slip by. He knew this girl wasn’t just his savior but could also be his ticket to survival. So, he began to show up at the same bars and social events where Isabella frequented, deliberately making his presence known. It didn’t take long for him to ca
Instinctively, Valentina knew that the woman named Lyla was the one Carlo couldn’t let go of.Without revealing her thoughts, she smiled warmly at her son. “Alright, let’s drop it. Go down to the cellar, pick a wine you like, and share a glass with your mother, okay?” Carlo was eager to end the conversation as well. He hated showing anger in front of his mother. After the bitter disappointment his father had become, his mother and Hudson were all he had left for family comfort.“Alright.” He nodded, then turned and headed for the wine cellar.Once Carlo disappeared from view, Valentina swiftly picked up his discarded phone. Lyla’s previous call had ended, but just moments later, it rang again. This time, Valentina answered.A panicked voice came through immediately, “Where’s Dr. Riffe? He didn’t show up for class today, and the school contacted his wife. She said he left early this morning, but no one’s heard from him since.”“Was this your doing? Don’t joke with me—I know you’re try
Lyla was arrested by the police in the middle of her class the next afternoon.The arrest warrant, issued for the alleged murder of Dr. Riffe, hit her like a tidal wave. She felt an overwhelming dizziness, as if the entire world around her had dissolved into an eerie silence.A female officer stepped forward and cuffed her wrists. Lyla caught sight of a male officer speaking, but all she could hear was a faint buzzing in her ears. His words were completely lost on her. As she was led out of the classroom, she noticed her students whispering amongst themselves, and other faculty members staring at her with both curiosity and concern. Among them, Lucas came running toward her.“I’ll get you a lawyer, Lyla, don't be scared.'” Those were the last words she heard before the officers pushed her head down and roughly shoved her into the back of the police car.Sitting between two officers in the backseat, Lyla felt utterly numb. Her mind seemed to shut down, overwhelmed with fear and humili
Lyla couldn't remember how long the police had interrogated her. What she did recall was the growing frustration and escalating anger in their voices, as they repeatedly questioned her. In the face of all the so-called evidence, she had only one response: “I don’t know.”Eventually, the officers, getting nothing from her, stormed out, leaving her alone in the cold interrogation room. Her reflection in the one-way mirror emphasized her solitude, and the eerie quiet was broken only by the relentless ticking of the clock, a sound indifferent to the situation, as though it had witnessed countless such moments before.Glancing at the clock, Lyla saw that it was already past midnight.The room’s lighting had been gradually increased to a glaring intensity, as bright as daylight. Lyla recognized this as an interrogation tactic she had once studied in her criminal psychology course—using harsh light to deprive suspects of sleep, weakening their mental defenses, and making them more likely to
Lyla woke up in an unfamiliar room. As she slowly opened her eyes, the dimly lit space made it difficult to observe where she was. The high ceilings and vintage furniture exuded an air of luxury, yet it felt cold and impersonal. Heavy curtains blocked out any light from the outside, leaving the faint, warm glow of a bedside lamp as the room's only illumination.This was clearly not a hospital, but the IV in her arm told a different story. For a moment, she was disoriented, her sense of time muddled. What injury had she sustained? What illness was she recovering from? Fragments of her past—the fight in the prison and the car accident—flashed in her mind. Then, a sharp pain in her lower abdomen pulled her back to reality. A flood of memories surged forth—she might have lost her child.Panic took hold. She sat up abruptly, ignoring the tug of the IV, and instinctively placed her hand over her abdomen.“Lyla, you’re awake. Are you okay?” Lucas’s voice came from beside her. Once a source o
The car sped down the desolate highway. Lucas told Lyla that Carlo would surely send someone to search her mother’s house. It was safer to stay away from her mother, both for Camilla’s safety and her own. He promised to take her to his hometown—a peaceful, quiet place where she could stay until the baby was born.Lyla, unsure where else to go, silently agreed to his plan. Resting her head against the window, she watched the scenery blur past like a fast-forwarded film. Her mind wandered back to moments with Carlo—his sudden appearances, abrupt disappearances, his truths and lies, and the magnetic charm that had once captivated her. She found herself questioning: was it the man she had fallen for, or simply the physical connection between them? More than once, she wished it had only been about his looks—the sculpted body, the possessive control, and the irresistible allure. If that were all, she wouldn’t be in this much pain. There wouldn’t be the betrayal, the despair. The only ce
Hudson’s words left Lucas frozen, unable to recover from the shock. Before he could fully process what he had just heard, Hudson continued, “Listen, Lucas. Ending the pregnancy is for everyone's best. Without the baby, Lyla will have no ties to Sir Carlo. Mrs. Bianchi won’t waste her time going after her, and she’ll lose her value to Blake. Her life will be spared, and you won’t have to pay an even steeper price. Isn’t that a better option than killing her outright?”Hudson’s voice buzzed in Lucas’s ears, like an incessant drone.He couldn’t deny the fact that Hudson's words were convincing. Without the baby, the bond between Lyla and Carlo would be irrevocably severed. A few minutes of tense silence passed before Lucas made his decision.“What do you want me to do?” he croaked, his voice rough with resignation. “I can’t guarantee it will be completely safe to… end it. You clearly have a plan, don't you? What is it?”“Of course, I have a plan,” Hudson replied smoothly, unfazed by Lucas
"Who the hell do you think you are to order me around?" Lucas stormed forward, grabbing Carlo by the collar, his voice shaking with fury. "I warned you—if you hurt her again, I’ll never forgive you.""What the hell does this have to do with you?!" Carlo snapped, shoving Lucas's hand away. He didn’t even know who he was truly angry with, but the storm of emotions raging inside him demanded release. "She’s carrying my baby! Of course, I’ll protect her and the baby. This is none of your fucking business!""Enough!" Lyla’s voice cut through the tension, low but sharp. She clutched her still-flat stomach, her eyes brimming with pain and despair. "This isn’t your baby, Carlo. And I will never let you see it. You don’t deserve to be a husband, a father, or to be loved!"Though she spoke quietly, afraid of being overheard, her words were like daggers. The raspy, restrained anguish in her tone sliced through the night, hitting Carlo like a blow to the chest. His voice trembled as he tried to p
"Who is this woman?!" Isabella quickly approached Carlo, her eyes sharp with suspicion as she examined the disheveled, tear-streaked woman before her. The stranger's casual attire was out of place for the elegant engagement party, and she clearly wasn’t one of the household staff either.Carlo clenched his fists tightly, avoiding Lyla's gaze and refusing to meet Isabella's eyes either. His voice was cold and detached as he replied, "I don’t know. Just some crazy woman. I found her acting suspicious, so I followed her out to check. No big deal. I'll call Hudson to handle this. Come on, babe, let’s head back. We shouldn’t keep the guests waiting."He grabbed Isabella’s arm, attempting to lead her away, but she jerked free. "A crazy woman?" she snapped, clearly irritated. "I won’t allow anyone to ruin our engagement party. There’s no need to bother Hudson over this."With a sharp snap of her fingers, two burly men stepped out from the shadows at her beckon. Speaking in Italian, one asked
The mansion was enormous, filled with laughter and brightly lit from corner to corner. Lyla fought back tears and nausea as she tried to navigate her way out, relying on her memory of how she had arrived. She was aware that Carlo was silently following her, but he dared not call out to her in front of the crowd, and she dared not stop. They weaved through the bustling throng of guests, Lyla quickening her pace with each step, until she finally reached the dark, desolate vineyard.“Stop following me!” Lyla couldn’t hold it in any longer. The emotions she had been suppressing erupted as she turned to Carlo and screamed, her voice raw and miserable. “Don’t you have more important things to do? Go back! Be a happy fiancé! Why should you care if I live or die? I don’t need you anymore! I never will!”Her screams were filled with such pain and despair that she seemed like a porcelain doll, covered in cracks and on the verge of shattering at any moment. Carlo’s instinct was to rush forward a
Lyla sat quietly at a secluded table, her gaze fixed on the center of the grand ballroom. There, Carlo, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, was recounting the story of how he and Isabella met and fell in love.Just minutes ago, Blake had escorted her to this dimly lit corner. He had placed her at an inconspicuous table, posted two men to keep an eye on her, and then disappeared.When she arrived, she caught the tail end of Leonardo’s announcement—Carlo being granted the family name and partial control of its power. Carlo stood proudly beside his father, with his mother on the other side, her arm looped around Leonardo’s, her smile radiant. They looked like the perfect family, united and unshakable. Carlo’s expression was brimming with triumph, his striking green eyes gleaming with ambition and a hunger for power—something Lyla had never seen in him before. In that moment, he felt like a stranger to her.Now, the spotlight had shifted to Carlo and Isabella. The stunning, confident
The mansion on the seaside cliff was unusually lively today. The engagement party of Carlo Ferretti and Isabella Cavalieri wasn’t just a union of two powerful Mafia families; it symbolized their collective expansion into international territories. The Cavalieri family had flown in hundreds of members from Europe, while the Ferretti family made an equally impressive show of force, gathering nearly all their key figures. Adding to the grandeur were representatives from other factions hoping to curry favor with the two Mafia dynasties.The whole thing felt like a royal wedding—lavish and over the top.For Carlo, this wasn’t just another party—it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He had spent over two decades fighting for recognition within his family. While his initial agreement to marry Isabella had been a strategy to save Lyla, recent developments had shifted his perspective. Just before the engagement, his father, Leonardo, had visited him in the hospital despite his failing hea
Lyla felt like she’d been hit over the head, her mind foggy and spinning. Stumbling, she grabbed onto the table for support, picking up the invitation and staring at it as if she didn’t recognize the words. She flipped it over, studying it again and again.“No… I don’t believe it,” she murmured, her voice trembling as if she were trying to convince herself. “He told me Isabella was only six. They… they can’t be getting engaged.”“Oh, so that’s what he told you?” Blake sneered. “No wonder. When you heard it yourself that day, I thought your temper would have you walking out on him for good. But looks like even a stupid lie like that was enough to fool you. Ah, poor girl. I almost feel sorry for you.”Lyla shook her head, unsure if she was rejecting Blake’s words or denying that Carlo had lied. Her eyes filled with tears, but she bit them back. “No, you’re lying. You’re just using me to hurt him!”Blake clicked his tongue, his expression laced with fake sympathy and disdain. “Why don’t