Elena's POVThe pain was endless. It wrapped around my throat tightly, squeezing with every breath I took. I tried to swallow, even just the thought of swallowing hurt. The only thing I could manage was the lukewarm broth Clara brought me, and even that felt like I was drinking shards of glass.I stared at the tray on the bedside table. The small bowl of soup mocked me. I hadn’t eaten properly in two days. My stomach growled angrily, but the thought of attempting to sip more liquid made my eyes water.“Come on, Elena,” I whispered to myself, my voice raspy and barely audible. “You need to eat something.”I picked up the spoon with trembling hands, but as soon as the first sip touched my tongue, my throat rebelled. I coughed violently, tears streaming down my face as the pain shot through me like fire.Clara rushed into the room, her face pale with worry. “Elena, stop! You’re going to hurt yourself more,” she said, gently taking the spoon from me.“I... I need to eat,” I rasped, my voi
Elena's POV.The fourth day arrived, and I was sitting on the bed, poking at the bowl of tasteless soup Clara had left for me. My throat still ached, but the pain was bearable compared to the frustration bubbling inside me. It had been four days since I last saw Dante. Four days of silence, unanswered questions, and restless nights. And then, just like that, the door to my room burst open.Dante walked in, his towering frame and cold, commanding presence filling the space. For a second, I forgot to breathe."You’re better now," he said, his voice sharp and unwavering. "I need you to work with me."I blinked at him, stunned. “Excuse me? Work with you?” My voice cracked slightly, and I winced, but I didn’t stop. “You vanish for four days, and now you show up like nothing happened? Are you insane?”Dante didn’t flinch. He didn’t react at all. His dark eyes bore into mine, unreadable and cold.Before I could say more, he motioned to the men behind him. “Take her.”“What…no! Don’t you dare
Elena's POVThe smell of cigar smoke and expensive cologne was thick in the air, making me nauseous. My knees were weak, partly from fear and partly from the ridiculous shoes Dante’s team had shoved onto my feet. The false teeth in my mouth were making it difficult to breathe, let alone talk, and I cursed Dante for putting me in this situation. I was disguised as an old woman…a frail, hunched-over figure supposedly reunited with her long-lost son.The "son" in question, however, was none other than Lorenzo "The Butcher" Bellucci. His name alone sent chills down my spine, and now here he was, standing before me with a trembling lip and watery eyes. Lorenzo was a large man, thick with muscle, his suit straining against his chest. His presence was as suffocating as the smoke-filled room, and he sniffled loudly, his eyes scanning me with disbelief and desperation."Madre?" he whispered, his voice trembling. His men exchanged glances, their beefy frames blocking every exit. I forced myself
Dante's POV.The moment I saw Elena crumple to the floor, blood spattering from her mouth like it meant nothing, I snapped. My pulse surged with a fury that could only be called pure rage. I didn’t even think. The guy was too slow…too cocky…pushing Elena down, then towering over her like he could do anything he wanted. I saw it all in slow motion: the vile look in Lorenzo's eyes, that damn smirk, as he stood above her, chest heaving in fury, his fist already pulled back for another hit. She was still weak from the damage I’d seen her suffer these past few days, that goddamn wound on her throat that made her struggle to speak, to even breathe right. And now this?“No one touches her.”I didn’t even remember walking toward him. My body was already in motion before my mind could process it. I slammed my fist into his jaw with everything I had, the sound of it was a sickening crack, a sick symphony in my head as he stumbled back, blood pouring from his busted lip.But it wasn’t enough. I
Elena's POV.I couldn’t breathe, my legs were burning, but I couldn’t stop. Not now. This was my chance to escape. This was it. I had to get away from Dante, away from all the madness, the punching from Lorenzo, the blood, and most of all, his insane demands. What had he brought me here for? To kill me? Was this some sick joke?I pushed myself harder, ignoring the way my feet stumbled in the ridiculous old woman’s shoes. The heels wobbled, but I didn’t care. I had to run. I had to get out of this nightmare.I could hear his voice behind me, shouting, his footsteps thundering closer. "You can’t get away from me, Elena. You belong to me." His words were cold, deadly, like he truly thought I was going to let him have his way with me."Go to hell, Dante!" I screamed over my shoulder, barely glancing back as I ran.My heart raced, fear and adrenaline mixing in my veins. I couldn’t even think straight, I was just running. Running from him. Running from my fate.In my panic, I grabbed whatev
Dante's POV The engine purred low as the car moved through the darkness of the night. I adjusted the rearview mirror and glanced at the unconscious figure sprawled across the backseat. Elena. Her face was still streaked with remnants of the ridiculous makeup she wore for the disguise, though half of it had rubbed off during the chaos. Stubborn woman. Even in her unconscious state, she looked ready to fight.Her chest rose and fell softly, but that was about the only thing soft about her. Everything else…the slap she’d given me days ago, the sharp tongue, the way she’d defied me at every turn…boiled my blood. But tonight? She’d outdone herself. Running, screaming, throwing stones and trash, even that damn egg that had splattered on my face. And that knife…she had the audacity to think she could take me down with shaking hands.I sighed, leaning back in the seat, my hand wiping at the crusted flour still clinging to my jaw. Goddamn it. She was impossible. Amusing, but impossible.Enzo,
Elena's POV.I was running again, only this time, it wasn’t from Dante. It wasn’t even from the chaos of the night before. I was running through the past, running through memories of when things were... better. I was twelve.I could hear my mom laughing, her voice soft and warm, as she pulled me into a hug. I could feel my dad’s big, strong hands on my shoulders, his firm but gentle grip, telling me everything would be okay. Marcus was there too. He was my big brother, always so protective, always keeping watch.“Everything’s fine,” Mom said, smiling down at me with love in her eyes. “We’ve got you, Elena. We’ve got you.”I smiled back at her, at them both. Life was perfect, easy. I was happy. And Marcus…he was there, always teasing me but looking out for me.But then... everything shifted. Things cracked, the happy moments faded into a blur. I was gone…missing. Where the hell had I gone?And then, they found me. But it was too late. My parents, on their way to get me, they were dead.
yElena's POV His presence was enough to make the air thick, suffocating. His gaze locked onto me, cold, calculating. I hated the way he looked at me, like he knew something I didn’t.“Do you remember what you did yesterday, Elena?” he asked, his voice low, dangerous.I shot him a glare, trying to mask my fear with defiance. “What the hell do you mean? Let me out of here!”He leaned in, his face just inches from mine, and for a moment, I was frozen. “You think I don’t know what you did? You made your choice. You tried to run away. And now... now you’re going to pay for it.”I spat, the bitter taste of rage filling my mouth. “You think I’m scared of you? You don’t scare me, Dante. Not anymore.”A chuckle escaped him, dark and chilling. “You’re amusing. But you’re also a fool.”Before I could respond, he moved, quick and controlled, like a predator with no patience left. One moment, he was standing over me, the next, he was on top of me, pinning me to the bed with his weight. My breath
Elena's POVPain. It ripped through me like a storm, raw and merciless. My body was drenched in sweat, my fingers clutching the hospital bed as another contraction tore through me. I screamed, my throat burning, my mind barely able to hold on.“Push, Elena!” the doctor urged, his voice was firm but encouraging.I gasped, my chest heaving. Dante’s hand was in mine, his grip strong but gentle, his lips pressed in a firm line as he watched me struggle. His other hand brushed damp strands of hair from my forehead, his eyes dark with worry and something deeper…something I couldn't name.“You’re doing so good, baby,” he murmured, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.I met his gaze, searching for something, anything…to hold onto. But all I found was pain, exhaustion, and a terrifying sense of being lost. I still didn’t remember. Seven months, and I still didn’t know the man beside me, the man who loved me, the man whose child I was bringing into the world.Another contraction hit, and I
Elena’s POVSeven months. Seven months had passed since I woke up in that hospital bed, broken, confused, and pregnant with a child I didn’t remember making. Seven months since I was told that Dante, an intense, dangerous man I still couldn’t recall…was the father.And now, here I was. Heavily pregnant. Nearing nine months. Carrying the child of a Mafia lord.I stood by the tall window, my hands resting on my belly, feeling the tiny kicks beneath my skin. My body had healed, no more wheelchairs, no more braces, no more bandages. Just me, standing on my own two feet again. But my mind? That was another story.I still didn’t remember anything. Not Dante. Not Marcus. Not the accident. Nothing.Dante had tried everything. He showed me pictures, told me stories, brought me to places we had been together. But no matter how hard he tried, my mind remained a blank slate. It frustrated him…I could see it in his eyes. But he never forced me. Never pressured me. He just… stayed. Protecting me.A
Dante's POV.The hospital room was quiet, but my mind was chaos. The steady beeping of the machines monitoring Elena’s vitals was the only sound. It was maddening. I sat by her bed, staring at her pale face, waiting for her to wake up. I didn’t know how long I’d been there, but it felt like an eternity. My chest ached with every breath I took, each second dragging me deeper into my own torment.She stirred, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks. Relief flooded through me like a tidal wave, and I leaned closer, gripping her hand.“Elena?” I said softly, my voice raw. “It’s me, Dante. You’re safe now.”Her eyes opened slowly, hazy and unfocused at first. Then they locked onto mine, and for a moment, I thought everything would be okay. But her brows furrowed, confusion clouding her expression.“Who... who are you?” she whispered, her voice weak but sharp enough to cut through me like a knife.My heart stopped.“Elena, it’s me,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Dante. Don’t you
Elena's POV.Pain. That’s the first thing I noticed. A dull, throbbing ache that stretched across my entire body. My head pounded like a drum, every beat sharp and non-stop. My elbow felt like it had been smashed with a hammer, and my knee…God, my knee, burned as if someone had ripped it apart and stitched it back together with fire.I blinked, my eyelids heavy as though they were made of lead. The light above me was too bright, piercing my vision and making my head hurt worse. I wanted to scream, but my throat was dry, raw. I groaned instead, barely able to move.Where was I?I glanced around, squinting through the brightness. The room was white…clinical. Machines beeped softly beside me, wires snaking from them to my body. Bandages wrapped around my arms, my chest, even my leg, which was propped up on some kind of support.A hospital. I was in a hospital. But why?I tried to move, but pain shot through my body like lightning. I gasped, gripping the sides of the bed with weak hands.
Dante's POV.The room was cold, damp, and reeked of fear. It was exactly how I wanted it. I stood just inside the doorway, staring at the woman tied to the chair in the center of the room. Carina. Isabella’s little sister.She had the same dark hair, the same sharp features, but there was none of the kindness Isabella had once carried in her eyes. Carina’s gaze was filled with nothing but venom, even as her lips curled into a defiant smirk.“Well,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery. “If it isn’t the grieving lover. Come to avenge your little damsel in distress?”I didn’t answer. My silence made her smirk falter, just for a second.Enzo stood by the wall, his arms crossed, watching silently. He knew better than to interfere. This was personal.I stepped forward slowly, each step deliberate. My boots sounded against the concrete floor. Carina’s smirk returned, but there was unease behind it now.“You think you’re untouchable because of who you are,” I said, my voice low and stea
Dante's POV.The hours felt endless, a slow, agonizing stretch of time where every second clawed at my sanity. I paced the hospital hallway, my fists clenched so tight my nails bit into my palms. My men stood at a distance, quiet, not daring to say a word. Marcus was slumped on the floor against the wall, his face buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.Every once in a while, his muffled cries broke through the sterile silence. It was unbearable.“Why hasn’t anyone come out yet?” I growled, slamming my fist into the wall. The thud echoed down the corridor, but it didn’t ease the rage boiling inside me. “They’ve been in there for hours!”Enzo placed a hand on my shoulder, his voice steady but cautious. “Boss, they’ll come. She’s strong. You know that.”I turned on him, my eyes blazing. “Strong? You think strength matters right now? A damn car hit her, Enzo. She’s pregnant, and I…” My voice cracked, and I had to look away.I couldn’t break, not here. Not now. But th
Dante's POV.The scene felt like a nightmare that had come to life, a cruelty of the past I thought I’d buried deep.From the moment Enzo’s phone call came through, my blood ran cold. “Boss, we’ve got her location. Carina’s behind this. She tricked Elena with that lottery scam,” he said. His voice was steady, but I could hear the edge of urgency underneath.I clenched the wheel so tight my knuckles turned white, trying to stay focused as we sped toward the address Enzo had sent. The thought of Elena being in Carina’s grasp churned my stomach. I’d underestimated Carina’s hatred…her obsession. And now, I was the one who had failed to protect the woman I loved.As we approached the building, I saw her. Elena stood outside, her hoodie pulled up as if it could shield her from the world. For a second, relief washed over me. She was free. Carina had released her. But something didn’t sit right. My gut told me this wasn’t over.Then I saw it. The headlights. A car barreling down the road stra
Elena's POV.My head pounded as I came to. My arms felt like they were being yanked out of their sockets, tied tightly behind me. My legs were bound to the chair, and the air smelled of something metallic and sharp. I blinked, trying to clear the fog in my head.The room was cold, empty except for me and the chair I was tied to. The walls were a dull gray, and the only light came from a single bulb hanging overhead.Then I saw her.Carina.The same girl who had tried to kill me in Dante’s apartment. Her face was just as I remembered it, sharp, angry, filled with hate. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she was dressed in black leather, like she was ready for war."Finally awake," she sneered, crossing her arms. "I thought they’d given you too much."I clenched my jaw, refusing to show any fear. "Carina. Back to finish what you started?"Her lips curled into a smirk, but her eyes were full of anger. "You have no idea how much I hate you," she hissed, stepping closer.
Elena's POVI hated sneaking out of the house. It felt childish, but what else could I do? Dante’s men followed me everywhere, acting like I couldn’t breathe without his approval. The constant presence of those suited-up bodyguards was suffocating. At first, I told myself it was because he cared, but now? It felt like a leash I couldn’t shake off.I glanced over my shoulder as I slipped through the side gate. No one had seen me, not yet. I had timed everything perfectly. Enzo was too busy barking orders to notice, and the guards stationed near the front were far enough away. I let out a breath of relief, pulling my hoodie tighter over my head.The message about the lottery win had been sitting in my inbox for days, and though I didn’t remember entering, curiosity got the better of me. The prizes were too good to ignore: a luxury vacation, shopping vouchers, and a brand-new car. It all sounded like a dream. Too good to be true, maybe, but after the past few weeks, I needed something to