Nicholas’s Point Of ViewThe moment the door opened, I felt my breath catch. There she stood, a vision in crimson, the fabric hugging her curves as if it were molded for her. For a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to admire her, the way her hair cascaded over her shoulders, the faint glint of irritation mixed with admiration in her eyes only added to her allure. Then, as if to remind me of the game we were playing, the darker part of my mind took over. I imagined tearing that dress off her, exposing the fire I knew she hid beneath that defiant exterior.But her voice brought me back to reality, sharp and clipped as she descended the stairs. “Can we go?” she asked, her tone indifferent, as if she were already bored of my presence.I adjusted my suit and stood up from the couch I sat on. “After you,” I said coolly, gesturing for her to lead.She swept past me, the hem of her gown brushing against my leg like a taunt. We walked in silence to the car, her chin held high, her back straigh
Elena's Point Of ViewThe ride home was suffocatingly silent. I pressed my forehead against the cool glass of the car window, the blur of streetlights sliding past like streaks of gold. My hands balled into fists on my lap, nails biting into my palms as I tried to focus on the passing scenery and not the man beside me. Nicholas radiated anger, his jaw clenched so tightly I thought his teeth might crack. The tension in the car was unbearable, like the air had been sucked out, leaving behind an oppressive vacuum. I knew tonight wasn’t over, not by a long shot.This was going to be one hell of a ride.The tires crunched against the gravel of the driveway as we pulled up to the mansion. Nicholas got out without a word, the slam of the car door echoing like a gunshot in the still night. I barely had a chance to unbuckle my seatbelt before he appeared on my side, yanking the door open.“Get out,” he growled, his voice low and lethal.I stared at him defiantly for a moment, refusing to move,
Elena's Point Of View The rustle of keys on the iron door startled me awake, dragging me out of a restless, haunted sleep. My body ached from hours spent curled on the hard, cold floor, and my head throbbed as if it had been pounded by a hammer all night. The memories of the previous evening came rushing back, Nicholas’s iron grip on my arm, the panic as the door slammed shut, the suffocating darkness that had swallowed me whole. My breath hitched as I sat up, the stale air of the tiny room pressing down on me like a physical weight.The door creaked open, and the light streaming in was almost blinding. “Miss Elena,” came a soft voice. I squinted up to see Elizabeth, the head maid standing there, her expression a mixture of pity and discomfort. “The master instructed me to let you out.”I didn’t wait for her to say another word. Scrambling to my feet, I pushed past her without so much as a glance, my legs shaking beneath me as I made my way down the hall. My feet carried me on autopi
Elena's Point Of ViewTwo months. Two soul-crushing, mind-numbing months in Nicholas’s house, and it felt like I’d aged years.The mornings blurred into nights, the days indistinguishable from each other. I avoided him like the plague, hiding in my room when I heard the heavy thud of his boots in the hallway, slipping out only when I was sure he was gone. The four walls of my so-called “room” had become my prison, suffocating and unrelenting.But my mind? My mind refused to stay caged.That date, 25/12/2014 had become an obsession. It haunted me in the quiet hours, whispered in the corners of my dreams, and gnawed at my thoughts every waking moment. What did it mean? The painting had to be important, but Nicholas’s cold rage that night had shut me down before I could uncover anything.I sat at the small desk by the window, staring blankly at the outside world as the voice of Elizabeth, the head maid echoed in my head.“It would be better if you don’t go snooping around the master’s pr
Nicholas's Point Of ViewThe room reeked of authority, mahogany furniture, muted light from the chandelier, and the faint scent of leather and ink. This was my sanctuary, the nerve center of my empire, where deals were struck, wars were planned, and lives were decided.Sitting behind the massive desk, I adjusted the earpiece in my ear and leaned back in my chair. The cold surface of my Glock brushed against my hand as it rested on the desk, a silent reminder of the world I ruled. Across from me, Alejandro stood, his expression stoic but his sharp eyes never missing a thing.“Mr. De Luca,” the voice on the conference line crackled with a mix of hesitation and greed. It belonged to Jason Smirnov, a known black-market investor notorious for brokering weapons deals. “The shipment is impressive. High-grade firearms like these… they’ll fetch a premium in Eastern Europe. But the price you’re asking? It’s steep.”I allowed a brief silence to stretch, the kind that made men sweat. “And yet, yo
Elena's Point Of ViewThe dining room was unnervingly quiet, except for the rhythmic clinking of Nicholas’s silverware against his plate. I kept my head low, pretending to focus on my omelet, though my mind was far from the plate before me. Across the table, Nicholas sat like a marble statue, rigid, cold, unreadable. His dark eyes skimmed over the newspaper in his hand, every so often lifting to glance at his phone.I needed to ask him. No, I had to. The words from the report were etched into my brain, each one a dagger twisting deeper into my gut: “From the investigation, it is declared that the deaths of Emilio Torres and his wife Bethany Torres was a deliberate murder.”Who would want my parents dead? My father was a saint in every sense of the word, a man who dedicated his life to helping others through his shelters and foundations. He was the kind of man who went out of his way to make life better for the less fortunate. And my mother, Bethany, was his perfect partner in every wa
Elena's Point Of ViewI woke to a blinding throb in my skull, as if a mallet was pounding relentlessly against my temples. Groaning, I pressed my palms to my forehead and struggled to sit up. The room tilted slightly before righting itself, and the events of the previous day came rushing back in a whirlwind of chaos and anger. Nicholas’s furious eyes burned in my memory, his rage palpable as he towered over me in his study. The files, the damning signatures, the horrific truths, every detail played on a loop in my mind. Nesa Caistro. The Ghost. D’Angelo.“What the hell does it all mean?” I whispered into the stillness of the room. My parents’ murder, the sinister revelations about my father’s foundations, and Nicholas’s connection to it all, it was a puzzle with missing pieces, but I was determined to solve it. My thoughts were interrupted by the soft creak of the door opening.Nicholas strolled in, impeccably dressed as always, carrying a tray with a steaming bowl. His expression was
Nicholas’s Point Of View"Why the hell can’t she just listen?" I muttered, my voice sharp and cutting as it filled the silence of my office. Pacing behind my desk, I stopped to slam my palm down, the sound reverberating in the room. Alejandro stood opposite me, arms crossed, his gaze calm but probing as if he were analyzing my outburst. It only fueled my frustration.“She defied me, Alejandro. Not once, but repeatedly.” My words came out like venom, and yet, deep down, there was something I couldn’t admit aloud... a pang of worry that had taken root in my chest. Elena’s stubbornness wasn’t just infuriating. It was dangerous to both of us.Alejandro shrugged, his calm demeanor somehow more irritating than if he’d disagreed outright. “You keep calling her stubborn, but you know damn well why she’s doing it. You’re shutting her out, boss. She’s not as stupid as you think. She sees the cracks in the walls you’ve built. She just wants to understand what’s on the other side and I think it w
Elena’s POVI don’t expect Marco to bring him to me.I had asked him to keep this a secret.The rest house is quiet, tucked away from the chaos of the city, surrounded by nothing but open land and the occasional whisper of the wind through the trees. It was supposed to be a safe space, a place to clear my head, to convince myself that leaving was the right choice.And yet, the moment I see him standing in the doorway, all those carefully constructed walls I built around myself begin to crack.Nicholas.He looks like hell. His sharp suit is wrinkled, his usually perfect hair is disheveled, and dark circles shadow his eyes. He’s always been so put together, so untouchable, but right now, he looks like a man on the edge. A man who hasn’t been sleeping. A man who’s been… suffering.I tell myself not to care. Not to feel.But my breath catches anyway.“Elena.”My name on his lips is hoarse, raw. There’s something almost hesitant in the way he says it, like he isn’t sure I’ll want to hear i
Nicholas’s POVI haven’t slept in days.She had done everything possible to be on my good graces but u didn't care, all I did was vent out my anger on her, I didn't even give her the chance to breath, now she was gone and all I could think of was my heart breaking in piecesThe weight of exhaustion presses against my skull, a relentless drumbeat of fatigue and frustration. The silence of the house is suffocating, the walls closing in on me with every passing hour. My hands tighten into fists as I pace the length of my office, the air thick with the scent of whiskey and regret.She’s gone.No matter how many times I try to push that thought away, it crashes back into me with the force of a wrecking ball. Elena is out there somewhere, hiding, disappearing into the world like a ghost. And I hate it. I fucking hate it.Marco was supposed to find her. He was supposed to bring her back. But it’s been days, and there’s been nothing.No calls. No updates.Nothing.My patience snaps the moment
Elena’s POVI had told myself I wouldn’t look back.Not at the city, not at the past, and especially not at him.But as I stepped out of the car and took in my surroundings, I realized how much I had underestimated the weight of my own emotions.The rest house was tucked away in the countryside, a stark contrast to the chaos I had left behind. It was a secluded sanctuary, surrounded by towering trees that swayed with the whisper of the wind. The air smelled clean, untouched by the scent of smoke, whiskey, or regret. The sky stretched endlessly above me, painted in deep shades of indigo as dusk settled in.For the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe.Marco shut the car door and turned to me, his sharp gaze assessing. “Not bad, huh?”I let out a small breath, nodding. “It’s… quiet.”“That’s the point,” he replied, motioning for me to follow him inside.The inside of the house was warm, but not in a way that felt welcoming, more like a place built for solitude. A hideout, not
Nicholas’s POVI slam the door behind me, breathing hard.My hands are still clenched into fists, my pulse a chaotic mess beneath my skin.That kiss.What the hell was that?I press my fingers against my temples, trying to steady the storm raging inside me. I should have stopped her the second she leaned in. I should have pulled away before our lips even met. But I didn’t.Because for a fleeting, stupid moment, I wanted it.I wanted to feel her again.I curse under my breath and shove a hand through my hair, pacing across my room like a caged animal. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was supposed to stay angry, stay distant. I was supposed to punish her for what she did.But every time I try, something holds me back.Her eyes.Her stubbornness.The way she’s been pushing herself, breaking herself, trying so damn hard to prove something to me.And I hate that I care.Hours pass, but sleep doesn’t come.I sit at the edge of my bed, staring at nothing, wrestling with my own pride.Why ca
Elena’s POVThey say actions speak louder than words.If that’s true, then maybe... just maybe.. I can make him see me again.Because words don’t work.Not with Nicholas.Not anymore.He doesn’t hear me. He doesn’t even look at me.His silence is worse than his rage.I’d take the shouting, the accusations, the bitter words laced with anger. At least then, I’d know he feels something. But this? This void, this nothingness between us?It’s killing me.So I do the only thing I can.I prove myself.The morning air is crisp as I step into the kitchen, the scent of fresh bread and brewing coffee wrapping around me like a warm embrace. The staff, a mix of cooks and housekeepers, pause mid-task, their eyes widening in surprise as I roll up my sleeves."Miss Elena," an older woman, Maria, starts hesitantly, "what are you doing here?""I’m helping," I say simply, reaching for an apron.She exchanges a look with the others before laughing nervously. "That’s… not necessary. This is our job.""I w
Nicholas’s POVThe moment the front door shut behind them, I felt my pulse skyrocket. I stood in the middle of the sitting room, fists clenched at my sides, my body coiled so tight I could snap. The air in the room was thick with tension, the silence deafening except for the sound of my own breathing, deep, slow, controlled, but only barely.I had been standing there, waiting, drowning in the sheer fucking anxiety of not knowing what they had been up to. And now that they were back, the sight of them, smug and victorious, did nothing to ease my fury.I turned sharply, facing Marco, my voice slicing through the silence like a blade."What the fuck were you thinking?"Marco barely flinched, his expression unreadable as he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the couch. "Nice to see you too, Nick.""Don't give me that shit, Marco!" I barked, stepping toward him, my jaw so tight it ached. "You should never have let her do this! Do you have any goddamn idea what could have gone wrong
Elena’s POVThe city lights blurred past the car window, neon streaks of red and blue casting fleeting shadows over my face. My hands rested on my lap, clenched together, the smooth fabric of my dress cool beneath my fingers. I could feel my heart pounding, a steady, insistent rhythm against my ribs. Nerves. Excitement. Dread.I had to do this.Marco, seated beside me in the driver's seat, glanced over. "You're awfully quiet," he remarked, his voice laced with something between curiosity and concern.I forced a small smirk, though my stomach was in knots. "Just mentally preparing myself to sell my soul."He huffed a laugh, but there was no humor in it. "You're really going through with this, huh?"I turned to face him. "You thought I’d back out?"Marco kept his eyes on the road, but his grip on the steering wheel tightened. "No. But a part of me hoped you would."Silence stretched between us, heavy and unspoken.Backing out wasn’t an option. Not when Nicholas still saw me as a liabili
Elena’s POVI had forgotten what fresh air felt like.For days, I had been locked away, my world reduced to four suffocating walls and the weight of my own regret. I had hidden from Nicholas’s cold, indifferent stares, from Marco’s careful glances, from the suffocating knowledge that I had ruined everything. But hiding wasn’t going to fix this.So, for the first time in what felt like forever, I stepped out of my room.The house was quiet, the kind of eerie stillness that made my skin prickle. The scent of polished wood and expensive cologne lingered in the air, familiar yet strangely foreign after my self-imposed isolation. My bare feet moved across the cold marble floor as I made my way down the hall, past the grand staircase, past the walls that had witnessed my downfall.Then I heard it.A voice. Low. Tense.I paused.The door to Nicholas’s office was cracked open, and from inside, I could hear the smooth hum of a newscaster’s voice filtering through the air. Normally, I would hav
Nicholas’s POVI stared out the window of the dimly lit office, watching the rain trickle down the glass. Each drop, like a tear of its own, fell to the earth, eventually joining the rest of the misery below. The city felt colder tonight, darker than usual. It wasn’t the weather... no, it was the storm brewing inside me. I could feel the weight of everything pressing down, suffocating me in a way that no amount of liquor or distractions could alleviate.Marco stood at the table across from me, his eyes glued to the monitor as he pulled up the latest intel on Alejandro’s movements. Every word he spoke was calculated, every gesture purposeful. This was necessary, and nothing... not even my tangled emotions.. could derail him from it. It was the only thing he knew how to focus on when it came to me, but tonight, something else was gnawing at him.He flipped through the files, not looking up as he spoke. "Alejandro's been busy. He's moving men into position, preparing his stronghold for t