CAMILLA'S POVIt was exactly how it felt: garish, ice-cold, and full of pomposity. Tom had his arm over me, some sort of prized possession he just had to show the world. I glued a fake smile on my lips as we went into the ballroom and the moment heads turned. Every inch of that room screamed money and power, something Tom desired most yet was the only thing I abhorred."Remember," he whispered into my ear, his fingers digging into my waist, "speak only when spoken to. We would not want you saying something foolish."I nodded, trying to let the expression on my face be meek. Inside, a war was going on, with the clutch that felt controlling, and the way he told me to do this and that, it was all so intolerable. All the same, I knew I needed to play along, for the time being at least.In a flash, Tom's colleagues came towards us, a Murmuration of pinstriped men hooting with laughter at jokes that weren't funny. Lapping this up, lapping up praise and adoration."And this must be your love
CAMILLA'S POVIt was as if, with every passing day, the ringing of time in my head showed me how the time was running out, and Dante's betrayal also got me broken, but I would not let it get to me. I had to get Jasper and myself out before the wedding or else I'd never be able to if I didn't take any action. The wedding which loomed over my head tightened the noose that strangled any glimmer of happiness. There was only one thing Tom and my father didn't know; they didn't know that I had an exit, and I was going to take it.It all started right when he gave me that unlimited business card when he was still playing a sweet father. Quite vividly, I recall that it instructed me to purchase whatever I needed for both me and Jasper. But the moment that card came into my hands, deep somewhere inside, I knew it was more than buying dresses and expensive stuff, it was my life support.I had sworn that when I came into profit, it would be for myself alone and not for the delight of Father and
CAMILLA'S POV“Make sure you don't do anything foolish, we can't afford any Mistakes."Those words still echoed in my head as I slid through the darkness, Jasper clutched tight against my chest. I was running, my heart racing in a marathon, but I dared not give in to fear. It was now or never. This was my only chance, and I had to be fast. With every step we made an echo reverberated within the silence heavy with musty earth and tension. We were almost there. Almost free.With every glance back, I half-expected the silhouette of Father or Tom to pop out from nowhere and sneak his way up to us. But nothing stirred in that tunnel. My heart was racing with every second spent; at the end of this hidden path lay freedom, freedom in its purest form for Jasper and me. My fingers clutched his small hand. I just couldn't bear to lose him to that abominable place, to Father, to Tom.We emerged onto the edge of the tunnel; the moonlight broke through the treetops. My breath caught in my throat,
DANTE’S POVThe phone slammed onto the wall, still vibrating from the noise it had just made, still echoing in my office. My fists were fisted and I could feel rage building underneath my skin. Every second counted when I had to deal with this betrayal."Dante, we are going to catch the rat, we are working on it," Alex said, matter of fact, and tugged me to spin me around. I shrugged him off.”Working on it? We're bleeding, Alex!" I snarled at him. My heart was racing against my temple. "They're stealing from us, leaking information, destroying everything I built. And Camilla's out there, trapped. What am I supposed to do first? Clean up this mess or save my family?"Alex didn't bat an eye; his face was rock steady. He was used to me losing it, used to the rage that I couldn't always keep inside. "We're close. I've got the team monitoring every communication. The traitor's going to slip up, and we'll be ready."I wanted to trust him, but trust was not that easily earned, not in this w
Camilla's POVIt was an iron chain, each thread bonded me closer to a future in which I had no desire to be. Every time I looked in the mirror, I could hardly recognize the girl standing back. My eyes, once bright and alive, shone dull with nothing but dread. My lips colored crimson red wobbled with words which, with rendition, I couldn't say.Now, this was to be the day that I married a man I despised, a man who treated me no better than as a pawn to make himself look good.My hand ran over the silky fabric of the thing, soft to the touch of my fingers, yet it could have been anything, so ordinary. What was to be a day of love and joy had become an endless nightmare from which I couldn't awaken. I couldn't run away. My father made certain of that. He left explicit instructions for his men to see that my arrival at the Lockwood estate was to be as smooth as it could possibly be, no mistakes, no excuses."Miss Camilla, it's time," Hannah whispered from the door.I didn't run. My feet s
CAMILLA'S POV.This little safe house sat at the corner of the town, at a location no one would ever think it would be. I was still out of breath, owing to all that had just happened: screeching tires, shots fired, the near escape. I said nothing but sat trying to put myself together, with each breath feeling like a jagged cut.He guided me inside, his hand clamped tight over mine. I hadn't let him go since he'd dragged me out of that car. Down the hall, he took me into a room at the end. My heart raced once more, this time for a whole different reason."Jasper's in here," Dante murmured, turning the handle.I swallowed the lump as the knot of nerves twisted within my stomach. My legs quivered, shaking, as I stepped inside.And there, in the crib, my baby boy was fast asleep, serene as ever. With every breath he took, his little chest arched up and then descended. The weight of it all pricked the corners of my eyes with tears: he was safe; Dante had saved him.I ran to him, taking J
CAMILLA'S POV.Dante strode across the room, pulling it open just far enough to speak to whoever was on the other side. His voice was low and controlled, but even I could hear the stress underlying it."What is it?To his right stood Alex, who I was well familiar with when I used to work at Dante's mansion; his face was straight as he said, "John's men tear through the city asking questions, boss, but they are clueless about anything, and nobody has an idea it is you behind this."Relief washed over me for a moment but for just that. My father still might not know yet who'd taken me, but I knew just how relentless he could get, he'd never stop until he found us.Dante nodded at him. His voice was smooth but threaded with an underlay of metal. "Good. Let's keep it that way. Make no slips and stay two steps ahead. I want full updates on their movements.""Yes, sir." Alex inclined his head sharply, cast me one quick reassuring look, and then vanished back outside to leave us with silenc
DANTE’S POVI woke up early before the light of early morning and my anticipation gnawed at me. Today would be different. Camilla had seemed so determined last night, her eyes had flamed with determination when I'd said we'd start training this morning. She'd had almost a feral aspect to her, one I didn't recognize. It wasn't about survival anymore. It was about defense and protection of her son.My son.I rolled out of bed and padded into the kitchen for a quick coffee. My phone vibrated on the counter, and I snatched it up, knowing there would be more updates from Alex about John's men. Sure enough, the messages confirmed my thoughts: they were still screwing around, no closer to figuring out that it was me. Definitely had no clue Jasper was mine. Then, though we were yet in a place of safety, this feeling inside that the time was running out would not go away.I tossed on a t-shirt and headed to the back of the safe house where I'd set up a small training area. I reached the door
DANTE'S POVThe door softly shut behind us, nestling us into the silence of the hotel room. There was still friction from tonight hanging in the air, but at least some of the weight was off my shoulders at any rate. It was huge, and Rocco agreeing to go to Chicago was just a major first hurdle of many different obstacles going forward. Twenty years of hate and all the reasons that it had created were never going to get solved overnight.Camilla stood at the window, staring out at the Italian city below, where the lights sparked on like diamonds in a polished velvet case. That soft glow came alive in her silhouette, and for a moment, I simply looked at her. There was something about Camilla where convoluted situations seemed doable.She muttered to herself, in the otherwise silent room: "I just can't believe it. Rocco actually agreed to meet your father. It is not real."I crossed the room, leaning against the edge of the bed and folding my arms as I watched her. "Wouldn't have happene
CAMILLA'S POVI heard the sharp shatter of glass as the room froze in place; it was as if the air formed into ice. My pulse thundered in my chest as instinctively, I pulled Annie's arm back from this stumbling man and his predicted random movements. He sneered, his frame unsteadily swaying, but a dangerous mixture of arrogance and intoxication gleamed in his eyes.The scrape of a chair leg across the floor cut through the silence before I could get another word out. I whirled to see Dante storming toward us, an expression blacker than I'd ever seen on his face. Every step he took was deliberate, as if some sort of predator closing in on his prey."Dante…" I started, but the words died in my throat.In an instant, he was beside us, his towering figure completely blocking me from the man's line of vision. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" Dante said in a low, controlled voice full of threat.The man was either utterly unaware of the serious peril he found himself in or simply
CAMILLA'S POVThe bar was in twilight, heavy with the smell of ages of whiskey and cigar smoke. The low murmurs of conversations and clinking glasses alike seemed to fade into the background, my attention was on Dante and Rocco - they sat at a corner table, but a single lamp cast sharp shadows across their faces. The tension between them was palpable from my seat: Dante hunched forward, his knuckles grazing the table; Rocco leaned back, his face impassive, save for the gleam of ice in his eyes.I sipped my wine slowly, the coolness of the glass a balm against the palm of my hand, but doing little to settle the queasy twist of my belly. Next to me, Annie seemed placid, but I noticed how her fingers gripped the stem of her glass just that little bit too tightly.“Why do they always look like they're about to kill each other?" I asked, trying to sound light.Annie smirked. "You're witnessing history in the making. Rocco doesn't listen to anyone-except me, sometimes. If he's even conside
CAMILLA'S POVThe moment the door to our room clicked shut, I blew out a very long, deep breath that I didn't realize I was holding. Dante sprawled across the room, yanking off his jacket to toss it onto the armchair in a spiky movement. His silence was deafening; the tension crackled between us in the air."Dante—" I began, but he sliced the word off.He whirled on me now, his eyes seething with anger and disbelief. "So you're saying she's the same woman" he snarled. "The Annie you practically threw yourself in front of a bullet for.” I crossed my arms over my chest and met his glare. "I didn't know who she was. She was just a woman in danger. I did what anybody with a conscience would have done."Dante snorted, passing a hand through his hair. "Anyone with a conscience wouldn't have flung themselves in front of a bullet!"The memory of that night tumbled back into my mind in a rush. "I didn't think," I whispered. "I just acted." Those words, like a threat of a storm, seemed to set
CAMILLA'S POVBefore us was the stretched Italian countryside-endless rolling hills of vineyards bathed in shades of gold by the afternoon sun. If anything, the villa where the wedding was held wasn't less than magnificent, a true melting pot of old-world charm and modern-day elegance. Marble columns framed the entrance, while a string quartet floated its music across the open courtyard.I really should have been utterly mesmerized by the view, but Dante's tense attitude was impossible to overlook."Relax," I whispered, tugging at the hem of my silk dress as I leaned in toward him. "Why are you so tense over a wedding?"Dante's jaw clenched, his sharp features lit for a moment by a flash of annoyance. "This isn't just some random wedding.""What do you mean?" I pressed, my curiosity getting the better of me as far as letting him stew in silence went.He said nothing for a second or two, his dark eyes scouring the crowd ahead of us. "This is Rocco Cafaro's domain." he finally said; his
TOM'S POV.I had been confined to a wheelchair for weeks, because of these symptoms. Whereas earlier I used to tower above all others because of my unbridled force, now I sat in this damned chair, legs useless weights, arms losing strength day by day. Irony indeed was bitter. People feared my dominance; now they pitied me. I hated it. Hated them.My fists knotted, my nails digging into my palms. The pain anchored me in the now. It wasn't some random event that had happened. My body hadn't betrayed me of its own volition. There'd been a puppet master yanking on strings, and I knew full well who was on the other side of them.That afternoon, My assistant wheeled me into my office, her soft footfalls barely audible over the dull roar in my head. Now she treated me as if I were glass, her voice perpetually soft, and guarded, as if some wrong word might shatter me."Anything else for you, Mr. Lockwood?" she asked, honey dripping with pity from her tone. She jerked at the blanket on my lap
TOM'S POVIt had started as no more than a whispered unease, a faint haze across my sight that cleaned itself a second later, and I'd been sure I'd just imagined it. But as days slid by, that haze grew darker, creeping into my mind, weaving itself into my body like a parasite.I sat in my office, staring down at the contract I'd spent the last hour trying to read; words on the page blurring and swimming before me until they finally dissolved into nonsense. Frustration prickled along my spine, and I closed my eyes, pressing my fingers into my temples. "Mr Lockwood?" I jerked my head up, to find my assistant, standing in the doorway with a look of concern."What?" I growled, sharper than I meant to, but I didn't care. There was just something wrong, off-the-charts disturbingly wrong-and I wasn't in the mood for questions.She stepped back, her hand releasing the door as she took a second to recompose herself. "You asked for the quarterly reports by this afternoon. I wanted to check to
Camilla's POVSoft light from the chandelier bathed the sitting room in a warmth that casts a gold sheen over plush furniture and polished hardwood floors. Jasper sat center of it all, his tiny fingers digging into the edge of the coffee table for balance as his eyes locked onto Dante and me with that determined glint I was starting to recognize as pure Draven spirit. My heart swelled as I looked at him-my beautiful boy.“Come on, Jasper," I cooed, holding my hands out to him. "You can do it, baby. Just one step."Dante knelt beside me and set his gaze in the middle of our son. "Just one, little man," he said softly, filled with excitement and warmth. "One step, and your mom and I will give you the biggest cheer of your life.”Jasper wobbled, holding onto the edge of the table with chubby hands and a fierce grasp that spoke volumes to someone who was determined not to fall. His great big grey eyes, mirrors of his father's, stared at us with such concentration and excitement. He wanted
ELLA'S POVI slammed my glass down, the echo slicing through the silence of my apartment. Red wine splashed onto my fingers, but I didn't bother wiping it off. All that lined my vision was Tom's face, his smug expression, as if he held the upper hand—as if I was the one failing. As if I was the problem.How dare he.My phone buzzed on the coffee table, lighting up Tom's name. A single word text: "Meet me. Now!"I rolled my eyes and took another gulp of wine, reaching for my coat, the cabernet tasted bitter like the failure. If Tom wanted to talk, he better come prepared. Because I wasn't letting him brush off his failures on me.I found him waiting in the shaded corner booth of his favorite club, fingers drumming impatiently on the table. The sound of my footsteps made his head snap up. Dark eyes locked onto mine with that far-too-familiar spark of control he seemed to think he had over everybody. But tonight, I wasn't here to play nice."Ella," he greeted without preamble, the tensio