Margarita woke up the following day, replaying the entire scene in her mind. The memory of Aslan accusing her of sleeping with Samson made her feel disgusted. The bruises on her cheeks from his harsh grip served as a painful reminder of his anger. Determined to confront the situation and clear the air, she noticed the slightly ajar door of another room where Aslan was sleeping. With hesitant steps, she made her way toward the room, determined to address the past and ensure it didn’t taint their present. She had married Aslan with the hope of a fresh start, but his lingering grudges threatened to overshadow their new beginning.Her trembling hand reached out to touch his, her voice barely above a whisper. “Aslan,” she muttered, but before she could say another word, his eyes flew open, startling her. Caught off guard, she stumbled and fell to her knees, hastily composing herself in front of him.“You must have the wrong information about Samson and me; we are just...” Her words trailed
The day went by, and Margarita reluctantly accepted her situation of being trapped in the Ivankov mansion. She had resigned herself to the fact that she couldn't expect love and care from Aslan anymore. However, whenever she caught a glimpse of Samson, her heart ached with pain. She remembered how he had warned her not to trust Aslan, but now that their lives were intertwined, she had no one to blame but herself. Feeling desperate and in need of guidance, Margarita dialed the number of her mentor, Dr. Davis, who had always helped her understand the complexities of psychology. She never thought she would have to reach out to him for her own trauma. "Sir," she greeted him when he answered the call. "Margarita, how are you?" he inquired. "I need your help, sir," she confessed. "Is there a problem? Have you encountered a critical case?" he asked, concerned. "It's about me. I need to sort things out," she explained. "Of course, you can stop by my clinic. We can sit and talk," he offe
Margarita sat in front of Dr. Davis, her gaze fixed on him, hoping that he could help her navigate the turbulent mental battle she was facing. “How are you, Margarita?” Dr. Davis asked, his voice gentle and concerned. “I’m feeling a bit feverish, but that’s not why I’m here. I need your help to understand my husband,” Margarita replied, her voice tinged with both vulnerability and determination. Dr. Davis listened attentively as Margarita poured out her heart, sharing the intricacies of her relationship with Aslan and the intentions she had discovered behind his actions. With each word, there were moments when she couldn’t hold back her tears, surprised at how she had fallen into his manipulative trap. After Margarita finished, Dr. Davis leaned back on his couch, contemplating her words. He began to jot down some key points as he gathered his thoughts. “I’m going to ask you a question,” Dr. Davis said, his tone gentle yet probing.“Do you love him?” Margarita was momentarily taken aba
Storm brewing Aslan found himself sitting on the couch, his eyes fixated on the vintage painting adorning the living room wall. This house held significant memories for him, as it was the place where his journey of hatred had molded him into the person he was today. Before he came here, he was burning alone in the fire with no outcome, but as soon as his guiding hand held him, he found how to make a way and win this world. Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed when the door opened, and Master entered, pushing Elijah’s wheelchair into the room. Aslan’s gaze softened as he looked at Elijah, feeling a mixture of pity and a strange connection. Despite Elijah’s immobile state, Aslan had witnessed a glimmer of progress in his ability to communicate through sounds. As a doctor, he had tried his best to help Elijah, seeing a spark of hope in his eyes. “How are you, Aslan?” Master’s voice broke the silence, and he took a sip of his coffee, basking in the warmth of the morning sunlight. T
Margarita’s eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for Aslan. After their conversation, he had left the house. It was the middle of the night when Aslan stumbled out of his car, clearly under the influence of alcohol. His heavy footsteps led him to the entrance of the door. As he raised his hand to knock, the door swung open, revealing Margarita’s face, a source of solace he didn’t consciously seek. Observing his disheveled appearance, her gray eyes flickered with concern as she offered the support he didn’t ask for. “What are you doing out so late?” Aslan questioned, scanning the dark room with a bewildered look. “Shhh... you’ll wake everyone up,” Margarita hushed him, disregarding his question and guiding his hand to rest on her shoulder. “I asked you a question. What were you doing out so late? Waiting for your lover to...” Aslan’s words trailed off, unable to complete the accusatory thought as he met Margarita’s innocent gaze, ready to embrace whatever he was willing to give
As Margarita slowly regained consciousness, the world around her came into focus. She found herself in a dimly lit, dilapidated stable. The smell of hay and dirt permeated the air, intensifying the feeling of confinement. As she tried to move, she realized her hands were tightly bound with cable ties, rendering her helpless.Her heart pounded with fear as she surveyed her surroundings. The place was eerily silent except for the distant sound of dripping water.“Hello, is anybody here?”Panic welled up inside her as she remembered the events leading up to her abduction. The woman who sought her help turned out to be a decoy, and her guards were ruthlessly taken down. Now, Margarita found herself at the mercy of her captors, the unknown abductor who had orchestrated this kidnapping.“Who is there?”She muttered when she saw a shadow. The person she saw lying on the road and the lady responsible for her kidnapping.“Why did you bring me here?” Margarita, her cheek stinging from the slap,
Aslan's hands trembled slightly as he cradled Margarita's face in his palms, his eyes searching hers for answers. Concern etched deep lines on his forehead as he gently brushed away a strand of hair that clung to her damp forehead. The moonlight glimmers on her skin as she tries to stir up and lean on her own strength. "Don't," he muttered in her ears and let her settle on his chest. His heart was still burning with revenge, and if he could gift those bastards more deaths, this might extinguish the pain he was feeling at that moment. As soon as the driver killed the engine, Aslan scooped her in his arms and headed towards the entrance. Capo and Ramona stood there watching him, bringing her back. "Is she okay?" Capo questioned, watching his son popping with concern lines on his forehead. "I have to check." he chose not to attend his dad's questioning and stepped inside to call the maid. "I need hot water in my room in two minutes," He headed towards his room and placed her in th
Margarita woke up under the influence of medicine. It was not a refreshing morning, but vital enough to let go of the horror she encountered in the last few hours. She made her way towards the bathroom, making herself ready. She wanted to take over her duties today, but her health didn’t allow it. What surprised her was Aslan’s concern for her. He took Samson’s help to save her.Margarita turned off the shower and wrapped herself in a towel, her mind clouded with mixed emotions. As she picked up her phone and saw Samson’s name, a hint of hesitation gnawed at her. She contemplated whether to answer or not, knowing that their relationship had been strained and her trust in him had faltered.“How are you feeling now?”“I’m feeling better,” she replied, her eyes meeting her own reflection in the mirror. The bruises on her face were a painful reminder of the ordeal she had endured.“I am sorry. You suffered all of this alone.” Samson’s voice carried a tone of genuine remorse, but Margi’s h
Margarita looked out at the moon, standing next to the fountain. The breeze played with her long curls, emphasizing the coldness. She was not expecting her dad to reveal the situation like this. She heard the footsteps approaching in her direction, and she was not willing to talk to anyone right now. She rushed towards the garden, thinking she could hide. “Margarita,” a voice brushed in her ears, and the goosebumps started to crawl out from her skin. She didn’t turn because she knew she would look weak and vulnerable in front of Samson. Margarita’s fingers tightened around the edge of her dress, her knuckles turning white. She could sense Samson’s presence behind her, the weight of his gaze, the unspoken words that hung in the air between them. But she remained committed, determined to protect herself from the pain that had once shattered her world. “I know... I have never missed an opportunity to hurt you, but we both know how much...” Samson whispered close to her ear; she turned
Three of them went inside. Samson could feel the resilience aura coming his way from Mateo. His presence might have been accepted by the Italian don but by the brother of Margarita Costello.The room was filled with a tense silence as Decker’s sharp gaze fell on Samson, his expression unreadable. Mateo stood by, observing the interaction between the two men.“Samson,” Decker’s voice was steady, his tone devoid of any warmth.“How are you now?”“I am... better,” Decker gestured toward a chair, indicating for Samson to sit. As they settled around a table, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation.“Mateo, could you please call everyone? Our friend here came to have dinner with us,” Decker instructed, his eyes never leaving Samson.Mateo nodded and left the room, leaving Samson and Decker alone for a moment. The silence was tangible, and Samson could feel the weight of Decker’s scrutiny on him.The silence filled with the click of glass when Decker poured whiskey into two glasses and dr
Master’s cold eyes flickered with intense emotion. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers interlaced, and recounted his side of the story.“It all started when you shot Elijah, leaving him to die.” That sight was still crisp in Master’s mind, watching his son bathed in his own blood pool.Master’s voice was low and filled with bitterness.He paused for a moment, his gaze distant as he relived the memories of that fateful day. “Elijah’s condition only fueled my rage further. He was left paralyzed, and I couldn’t bear to see my son suffer like that.”“The pain of watching our son consumed my wife, and she chose to die by taking her life. I lost everything that day, and the pain consumed me because of you.” Master’s eyes didn’t flicker from Decker’s face.“I wanted revenge, and I wanted Decker to suffer as I had suffered. So, I searched for the worst criminals, those who would carry out my bidding without question. That’s when I found Vasco Ivankov and helped him establish the Spanish
In a quiet corner of the room, Adele and Elijah sat closely together. Both of them were old, and time had carved its marks on their faces, but their eyes held the same warmth and love that had bound them together for decades. Adele looked at Elijah with concern, her heart aching for the man she once loved deeply.“You look beautiful,” Elijah stammered.Adele smiled thinly and shook her head, withering away the worries about what was happening outside.“Is this because of the bullet in your spine?” Adele asked gently, her voice barely above a whisper.Elijah nodded slowly, his lips twisted in pain as he struggled to speak. “Yes,” he uttered. “I got punished for what I did.”Tears welled up in Adele’s eyes as she reached out and cupped Elijah’s hand in her own. “No, Elijah,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. “You didn’t deserve this. You were caught in the crossfire, and it was never your fault.”Elijah drooled, and Adele picked to wipe his face.“Is he handsome enough?” He chuck
The thick scarlet liquid dripped from the on the wooden floor, slithering down at the Master’s shoe. He finished, placed his cigar back on the ashtray, and looked sideways to see the lifeless body of Capo on his patio. His face twisted in disgust and anger. He looked at the man who had once been his friend, his ally, but was now nothing more than a hindrance to his plans. “Your blood stains my patio, making it dirty,” he muttered, his voice cold and devoid of any remorse.“I thought your son was better than you, but these Costello bitches always win the men with their charm,” he greeted, his teeth watching over Elijah as he made his way to the patio.“Don’t look at me like this,” Master rolled his eyes, watching Elijah’s judgemental eyes.Capo’s phone started to buzz on the coffee table, displaying the name “Samson” on the screen, but Master didn’t bother to pick up. He threw the phone aside, frustrated by the turn of events. His plan to defeat Decker and take control of the underworl
The room was shrouded in darkness, the heavy curtains drawn tightly shut, blocking any sliver of light from the outside world. The only source of illumination was a single dim lamp perched on the edge of the heavy wooden desk. Its soft glow created dancing shadows on the walls, adding to the eerie atmosphere of the room.Capo sat there, a solitary figure amidst the darkness, his face partially concealed by the shadows. The lamp cast a faint light on his troubled expression, revealing the lines of sorrow etched on his face. His eyes, filled with a mixture of grief and determination, remained fixed on a picture of his beloved son, Aslan, which lay on the desk before him, his handsome face smiling back at him, and tears welled up in his eyes.“I’m so sorry, my boy,” Capo whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “I never got the chance to tell you the truth. I wanted to explain why I punished your mother. Why I had to make the choices I did.”His mind drifted back to the painful memories
The morning sun gently streamed through the curtains, waking Sarah from her restless slumber. As she opened her eyes, she saw Margi sitting beside her, her face filled with concern.“Hey,” Margi said softly, “How are you feeling?”Sarah mustered a weak smile. “Better, I guess. Thanks for taking care of me.”Margi nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of everything that had transpired. “Of course, Sarah. I’ll always be here for you.”Tears welled up in Sarah’s eyes as she looked at Margi. “I’m so sorry, Margi. I never meant for any of this to happen.”Margi reached out and gently squeezed Sarah’s hand. “It’s not your fault, Sarah. None of us could have foreseen any of this.”Sarah’s voice quivered as she spoke, “Will you ever be able to forgive Dominic?”Margi looked at her friend, unsure if she could ever find it in her heart to forgive the man who had caused her so much pain. “I... I don’t know if I can forgive him,” she admitted, her voice filled with uncertainty and vulnerability
Margi looked down at her trembling hands, her dress stained with blood and dirt. One part of her heart was relieved. Sarah is safe and under the doctor’s observation. Her mind drifted back to that horrifying day when she witnessed her brother Ethan’s tragic end. The image of him being engulfed by bullets haunted her, and her own screams echoed in her ears. She felt the guilt creeping in, wondering why it was always her loved ones who suffered while she managed to survive.Aslan’s face flashed before her eyes, his hazel eyes filled with love and happiness just hours before his life was taken from him. The memory of his gentle smile and the promise of a new life together crushed her heart. She couldn’t bear the thought that she was with him in his last moments, and yet she couldn’t save him.“Why does it always have to be them? Why can’t I protect the ones I love?” Margi whispered to herself, her voice filled with desperation.Amid her thoughts, Antonio extended a glass of water towards
The road ahead seemed uncertain and dark. The headlights of the car cut through the night, illuminating the winding path before them, but it did little to dispel the heaviness in their hearts.In the silence of the car, broken only by the sound of the engine and the soft hum of tires on the road, Margi and Sarah couldn’t help but contemplate the shattered trust that lay between them and Dominic.Margi skimmed in her direction and knew how the pain etched on Sarah’s face. The dry tears and blank eyes were a reflection of the shattered trust that mirrored her own feelings. Looking at Sarah, Margi saw a reflection of her own heartache, and she knew that they both shared a similar pain.“Do you love him?” Margi asked, her voice soft and understanding, knowing the weight of that question.Sarah hesitated for a moment, her lower lip trembling with fear of revealing the truth. She squeezed her eyes and swallowed the truth without uttering them in words.Margi knew the ache of loving someone