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 POV.I could feel the tension in the cramped apartment, the walls almost closing in as I stood in the small kitchen, stirring a pot of instant ramen. The smell of cheap noodles mingled with the stale air, making my stomach churn. My brother Marcus burst through the door, the heavy thud sounding through the tiny space, and I prepared myself for the storm.“Why can’t you do anything right, Elena?” His voice boomed, filled with frustration and something darker, something I had come to recognize as hatred. “Look at this mess! You’re just a bad luck charm, you know that? Ever since Mom and Dad…”“Shut up!” I snapped, spinning around to face him, my heart racing. “You don’t get to blame me for their deaths! I didn’t ask them to drive that night!”He stepped closer, his face a mask of rage, fists clenched at his sides. “You think you’re so innocent? They died because of you! All because you were too spoiled to take care of yourself! They went to cater to your whims, and look what hap
Elena's POV.I watched in disbelief as Marcus strolled back into the apartment, holding a plastic bag with a bottle of some fancy drink peeking out. It was evening and there was a different kind of look on his face. For a second, I almost thought he looked… calm. Too calm."Here," he grunted, setting the bottle down on the rickety table in front of me. "Figured you'd want something cold after that… scene you caused." His voice was oddly smooth, almost friendly…a tone I hadn’t heard in years.I looked from him to the bottle, suspicion bubbling up like bile in my throat. "What is this?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. “Since when do you buy me anything?”Marcus forced a tight smile, though his eyes stayed cold and hard. "Oh, come on, Elena," he said with a laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. "I just thought I’d do something nice for once. You can keep acting like a brat, or you can just enjoy the drink."His words stung, but the mocking edge in his voice stung even more. He raised an eyebrow
Elena's POV.Marcus’s desperate voice was still shouting, pleading as if his life depended on it…which, I supposed, it did."Please, Mr. Moretti," he choked out, soaked and shaking. "Take her. She can be… she can be anything you need her to be. Just please… please…"“Enough!” Dante’s voice roared through the rain, a cold command that made everyone freeze. Marcus shut his mouth instantly, staring at Dante like a cornered rat, trembling as he waited for his verdict. My heart raced; for a second, I dared to hope. Maybe this man would laugh in Marcus's face, give him a final warning, and let me go.But then Dante’s gaze fell on me again, and my stomach knotted. He looked me up and down, with his eyes dark and calculating. Every second stretched out as he silently sized me up, the power he wielded radiating like a dark cloud. My skin crawled under his piercing stare, every instinct screaming at me to run. As if I could.And then, as abruptly as it started, the rain stopped. Like some twist
Dante's POV.As I made my way to the room, it was the middle of the night, hours after I'd handled that betrayal. Bloodstains had long dried on my cuff, a reminder that some people needed their fate handed to them in pieces. That idiot Marcus hadn't been any different, trading his own sister like she was some bargaining chip. It still amazed me how daily a man could see his soul…and in this case, his family, for a little relief from debt. But now, I was left with the baggage he'd dropped at my doorstep.The girl was in the room at the far end, the one we typically reserved for prisoners with... potential. Her name was still in my head; Elena. The name suited her, sharp but delicate. Yet, I wasn't sure what she thought she could do here, trussed up and at my mercy. I pushed the door open, letting it creak closed behind me. She was standing next to the window, hands and legs still bound in ropes, like a pathetic figure standing against the city lights. Her hair, which was still damp fr
Dante's POV.I leaned in, close enough that I could taste the tension in the air. "Curious if that sharp mouth of yours is worth all the trouble it causes," I murmured, tracing my thumb over her lips. "Or if you're just all talk.”A flash of anger lit her gaze, a spark that only seemed to fuel the amusement I felt building with me. But I held her gaze, my thumb was still resting against her mouth. She was helpless here, her hands tied, her body tensed under my stare, but her eyes...those damn hazel eyes...still held their challenge."Go on, then," she sneered, her voice defiant. "Do your worst.”The words hung in the air, her voice daring, but I noticed that faint tremble behind them, a hesitation that gave her away.I raised an eyebrow, letting a slight smirk pull at my mouth. "Is that a challenge?"Her lips pressed into a thin line, the fire in her eyes flaring, but she didn't answer. For a second, I was just...staring, captivated by the strange mix of strength and vulnerability she
Elena's POV.The door clicked shut, and I exhaled a shaky breath as Dante finally left. The tension in my shoulders started to ease, but my heart still hammered in my chest, half-expecting him to change his mind and storm back in, deciding I’d outlasted his patience. Each word I’d said felt like walking into quicksand…dangerous, unpredictable, and he’d kept meeting my every comeback with that look, the one that told me he wasn’t used to being challenged. I hadn’t exactly expected him to be amused by it.The ropes were biting into my wrists, rough enough to scrape my skin raw. I twisted my hands a little, trying to get even a hint of relief, but all I got was a deeper ache. I wanted to scream in frustration. So, what now? Was I just supposed to stand here like some prize waiting to be claimed? Helpless, irritated, and still recovering from my confrontation with the devil himself, I was left wondering how long I’d have to endure this.Suddenly, the door opened again, and I held my breat
Elena's POV."Eat up," Carla said, giving me a measured look as she placed the tray on the small table in the corner of the room. "Boss’s orders."I forced my voice to stay steady. “He’s… feeding me?” The disbelief in my tone was hard to mask.Carla shrugged, giving me a small, almost sympathetic smile. “Let’s just say he doesn’t like loose ends.”Right. That sounded about right. Feed me before he kills me.As soon as Carla left, I slid the door shut, taking a long moment to stare at the feast in front of me. Roast chicken with crispy, golden skin that looked like it’d crack under a knife. Fresh vegetables, sautéed with garlic and butter. A warm roll, straight from the oven, with a small pad of melting butter on top. And a chocolate dessert that gleamed under the lighting, like it belonged in some five-star restaurant I’d never step foot in.My stomach roared, and I couldn’t stop myself. I dug in, tearing at the bread like it was the only thing holding me together. The warm, flaky cru
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