177Emilia’s POVThe stench of the room was suffocating—sweat, alcohol, and something metallic that I couldn’t quite place. My head hung low, my body too weak to sit upright for long. Days had passed—how many, I didn’t know—and the ache in my bones felt permanent now. I’d been left alone most of the time, which, as degrading as this situation was, had become a small mercy.Until tonight.The sound of boots scraping against the concrete floor reached my ears before the door groaned open. I flinched involuntarily, my hands curling into weak fists as three of them entered the room. I recognized them immediately: the smug one with the crooked nose and greasy hair, the one who had smacked me in the van, and a wiry man who always seemed to watch me a little too closely.“Look at her,” Crooked Nose said, his tone laced with mockery. “She’s barely got any fight left.”“Bet she squeals just the same,” the wiry one replied, his words making bile rise in my throat.“Shut up,” I hissed, though my
178Emilia’s POVThe world around me felt like it had dissolved into static. My body moved because Alonso’s men pulled me forward, their grips firm but not cruel. I stumbled over my own feet, too stunned to resist, too dazed to speak.The blood-streaked room was now behind us, but its horrors stayed lodged in my mind: the gunshots, the bodies, Alonso’s fury. And then there was the name. Alessandra. My name. According to him.“This way,” one of the men grunted, guiding me toward a sleek black SUV parked just outside the warehouse.I yanked my arm out of his grasp, finding a shred of my voice through the haze of confusion and fear. “Don’t touch me!”He raised his hands in surrender, glancing at Alonso, who stood a few feet away, watching me. “It’s for your safety,” the man muttered, stepping back.“Safety?” I snapped, my voice trembling. “You just killed three people in front of me. How the hell is this safe?”Alonso approached then, his expression unreadable. His tailored suit, still i
179Emilia’s POVThe maid, Rosetta, moved around the room like a ghost, her steps light and deliberate. She set down a tray on the table near the bed—a steaming bowl of soup, a glass of water, and a neatly folded napkin. I stayed perched on the edge of the armchair by the window, as far from her and the bed as I could manage without leaving the room entirely.“You should eat something,” she said gently, her voice thick with an accent I couldn’t place.“I’m not hungry,” I muttered, keeping my arms crossed over my chest.She hesitated, her dark eyes flicking to me with a mixture of pity and concern. “You’ve been through a lot, signorina. It will help.”I didn’t respond, staring out at the sprawling villa grounds instead. Perfectly trimmed hedges, a fountain bubbling softly in the center of the courtyard, and beyond that, a stone wall that loomed like a fortress. It was beautiful in a way that made my skin crawl.The maid left without another word, and the silence in the room settled ove
180Emilia’s POVThe heavy, ornate doors of Alonso Cruz’s villa loomed ahead as I marched toward them, every step fueled by a mix of defiance and desperation. My chest heaved, not from exertion, but from the rage simmering beneath my skin. Alonso’s words still rang in my ears: “You’re not going anywhere, Emilia. This is your home now.” Home? The absurdity of it made me want to scream.I wasn’t staying here.“Open the door!” I yelled, my voice reverberating through the marble hall. Two guards exchanged a look but didn’t budge.“Let me out!” My fists pounded against the wood, the sound echoing like a gavel in a courtroom. The verdict was clear: I was trapped.When it became apparent they weren’t going to comply, I turned, pacing like a caged animal. My thoughts spiraled. How could I have let this happen? One moment, I was enduring hell in a dank hideout, and the next, Alonso Cruz was calling me his daughter and dragging me into a gilded prison.My real father.A bitter laugh bubbled up,
181Alaric’s POVThe office was eerily quiet, save for the soft hum of the monitors and the occasional shuffle of papers as Allesio sorted through reports. I stood by the window, staring out at the dark city. Its usual pulse of life felt muted tonight, like it was holding its breath alongside me.Emilia was out there. Alone. Possibly hurt.My grip on the glass of whiskey in my hand tightened until my knuckles went white. I hadn’t slept more than three days—not since she was taken. Every lead had been a dead end, every second wasted felt like an eternity, and every beat of my heart reminded me of what was missing.Her.“Alaric.” Allesio’s voice broke through my thoughts. He stood near the door, holding a stack of papers. His face was drawn, the lines of stress deepening. “We might have something.”I turned, placing the glass on the desk. “What is it?”He hesitated, a telltale sign that whatever he had to say wasn’t good. “Our men tracked a vehicle matching the kidnappers’ description.
18Emilia’s POVThe door to my room swung open, and Alonso stepped in, his presence as commanding as ever. I stood near the window, arms crossed, glaring at him. My heart hammered in my chest, but I refused to let him see how much he intimidated me.“Alessandra,” he started, his tone too calm for my liking, “we need to talk.”“Oh, now we need to talk?” I snapped, spinning to face him fully. “You’ve kept me locked up like a prisoner for days, and suddenly you’re interested in having a conversation?”His jaw tightened, but he didn’t raise his voice. “I’m protecting you. This is for your own safety.”I scoffed, the sound bitter even to my own ears. “Safety? You call this safety? Trapping me here, refusing to let me leave, keeping me in the dark about everything?” I took a step closer, my voice rising with every word. “You’re no better than the men who kidnapped me!”The flash of anger in his eyes was immediate, but he masked it quickly, folding his arms across his chest. “That’s a dangero
183Emilia’s POVAlonso sat across from me in the small study, a room filled with old, leather-bound books and the lingering scent of cigars. The air was tense, but there was something different about his demeanor tonight—less authoritative, more… human. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped as if searching for the right words.“I owe you an explanation,” he began, his voice uncharacteristically soft.I crossed my arms, not ready to let my guard down. “You owe me more than that.”His lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded. “You’re right. I’ve kept too much from you, and I see now that it was a mistake. But I need you to understand… everything I’ve done has been to protect you.”“Protect me from what?” I asked, my tone sharper than I intended. “From Alaric? From the world? From yourself?”He didn’t flinch at my accusation, which somehow irritated me more. “From the same people that took your mother from me,” he said quietly.The room fell silent, the w
184Emilia’s POVThe villa was unnervingly quiet as I cracked the door open and peered into the hallway. The steady hum of distant conversation and the occasional shuffle of feet were the only indicators that the guards were still in position. My heart pounded in my chest, every thud echoing in my ears as if trying to betray me.I had spent the past few days carefully observing the guards’ movements, piecing together their patrol schedule and noting the blind spots in the villa’s security. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. If I didn’t take this chance tonight, I might never get another. Alonso had softened slightly toward me, but his determination to keep me under his watch was unwavering.Barefoot, I stepped into the hall, the cold marble floor sending a chill up my spine. My dress, loose and plain, clung to me as I crouched low and moved toward the staircase. The grand chandelier above cast sprawling enough brightness in some parts of the room, and I pressed myself into the dark
184Emilia’s POVThe villa was unnervingly quiet as I cracked the door open and peered into the hallway. The steady hum of distant conversation and the occasional shuffle of feet were the only indicators that the guards were still in position. My heart pounded in my chest, every thud echoing in my ears as if trying to betray me.I had spent the past few days carefully observing the guards’ movements, piecing together their patrol schedule and noting the blind spots in the villa’s security. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. If I didn’t take this chance tonight, I might never get another. Alonso had softened slightly toward me, but his determination to keep me under his watch was unwavering.Barefoot, I stepped into the hall, the cold marble floor sending a chill up my spine. My dress, loose and plain, clung to me as I crouched low and moved toward the staircase. The grand chandelier above cast sprawling enough brightness in some parts of the room, and I pressed myself into the dark
183Emilia’s POVAlonso sat across from me in the small study, a room filled with old, leather-bound books and the lingering scent of cigars. The air was tense, but there was something different about his demeanor tonight—less authoritative, more… human. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped as if searching for the right words.“I owe you an explanation,” he began, his voice uncharacteristically soft.I crossed my arms, not ready to let my guard down. “You owe me more than that.”His lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded. “You’re right. I’ve kept too much from you, and I see now that it was a mistake. But I need you to understand… everything I’ve done has been to protect you.”“Protect me from what?” I asked, my tone sharper than I intended. “From Alaric? From the world? From yourself?”He didn’t flinch at my accusation, which somehow irritated me more. “From the same people that took your mother from me,” he said quietly.The room fell silent, the w
18Emilia’s POVThe door to my room swung open, and Alonso stepped in, his presence as commanding as ever. I stood near the window, arms crossed, glaring at him. My heart hammered in my chest, but I refused to let him see how much he intimidated me.“Alessandra,” he started, his tone too calm for my liking, “we need to talk.”“Oh, now we need to talk?” I snapped, spinning to face him fully. “You’ve kept me locked up like a prisoner for days, and suddenly you’re interested in having a conversation?”His jaw tightened, but he didn’t raise his voice. “I’m protecting you. This is for your own safety.”I scoffed, the sound bitter even to my own ears. “Safety? You call this safety? Trapping me here, refusing to let me leave, keeping me in the dark about everything?” I took a step closer, my voice rising with every word. “You’re no better than the men who kidnapped me!”The flash of anger in his eyes was immediate, but he masked it quickly, folding his arms across his chest. “That’s a dangero
181Alaric’s POVThe office was eerily quiet, save for the soft hum of the monitors and the occasional shuffle of papers as Allesio sorted through reports. I stood by the window, staring out at the dark city. Its usual pulse of life felt muted tonight, like it was holding its breath alongside me.Emilia was out there. Alone. Possibly hurt.My grip on the glass of whiskey in my hand tightened until my knuckles went white. I hadn’t slept more than three days—not since she was taken. Every lead had been a dead end, every second wasted felt like an eternity, and every beat of my heart reminded me of what was missing.Her.“Alaric.” Allesio’s voice broke through my thoughts. He stood near the door, holding a stack of papers. His face was drawn, the lines of stress deepening. “We might have something.”I turned, placing the glass on the desk. “What is it?”He hesitated, a telltale sign that whatever he had to say wasn’t good. “Our men tracked a vehicle matching the kidnappers’ description.
180Emilia’s POVThe heavy, ornate doors of Alonso Cruz’s villa loomed ahead as I marched toward them, every step fueled by a mix of defiance and desperation. My chest heaved, not from exertion, but from the rage simmering beneath my skin. Alonso’s words still rang in my ears: “You’re not going anywhere, Emilia. This is your home now.” Home? The absurdity of it made me want to scream.I wasn’t staying here.“Open the door!” I yelled, my voice reverberating through the marble hall. Two guards exchanged a look but didn’t budge.“Let me out!” My fists pounded against the wood, the sound echoing like a gavel in a courtroom. The verdict was clear: I was trapped.When it became apparent they weren’t going to comply, I turned, pacing like a caged animal. My thoughts spiraled. How could I have let this happen? One moment, I was enduring hell in a dank hideout, and the next, Alonso Cruz was calling me his daughter and dragging me into a gilded prison.My real father.A bitter laugh bubbled up,
179Emilia’s POVThe maid, Rosetta, moved around the room like a ghost, her steps light and deliberate. She set down a tray on the table near the bed—a steaming bowl of soup, a glass of water, and a neatly folded napkin. I stayed perched on the edge of the armchair by the window, as far from her and the bed as I could manage without leaving the room entirely.“You should eat something,” she said gently, her voice thick with an accent I couldn’t place.“I’m not hungry,” I muttered, keeping my arms crossed over my chest.She hesitated, her dark eyes flicking to me with a mixture of pity and concern. “You’ve been through a lot, signorina. It will help.”I didn’t respond, staring out at the sprawling villa grounds instead. Perfectly trimmed hedges, a fountain bubbling softly in the center of the courtyard, and beyond that, a stone wall that loomed like a fortress. It was beautiful in a way that made my skin crawl.The maid left without another word, and the silence in the room settled ove
178Emilia’s POVThe world around me felt like it had dissolved into static. My body moved because Alonso’s men pulled me forward, their grips firm but not cruel. I stumbled over my own feet, too stunned to resist, too dazed to speak.The blood-streaked room was now behind us, but its horrors stayed lodged in my mind: the gunshots, the bodies, Alonso’s fury. And then there was the name. Alessandra. My name. According to him.“This way,” one of the men grunted, guiding me toward a sleek black SUV parked just outside the warehouse.I yanked my arm out of his grasp, finding a shred of my voice through the haze of confusion and fear. “Don’t touch me!”He raised his hands in surrender, glancing at Alonso, who stood a few feet away, watching me. “It’s for your safety,” the man muttered, stepping back.“Safety?” I snapped, my voice trembling. “You just killed three people in front of me. How the hell is this safe?”Alonso approached then, his expression unreadable. His tailored suit, still i
177Emilia’s POVThe stench of the room was suffocating—sweat, alcohol, and something metallic that I couldn’t quite place. My head hung low, my body too weak to sit upright for long. Days had passed—how many, I didn’t know—and the ache in my bones felt permanent now. I’d been left alone most of the time, which, as degrading as this situation was, had become a small mercy.Until tonight.The sound of boots scraping against the concrete floor reached my ears before the door groaned open. I flinched involuntarily, my hands curling into weak fists as three of them entered the room. I recognized them immediately: the smug one with the crooked nose and greasy hair, the one who had smacked me in the van, and a wiry man who always seemed to watch me a little too closely.“Look at her,” Crooked Nose said, his tone laced with mockery. “She’s barely got any fight left.”“Bet she squeals just the same,” the wiry one replied, his words making bile rise in my throat.“Shut up,” I hissed, though my
176Emilia’s POVThe room was dark, and the air reeked of mildew and stale sweat. My entire body ached, and every movement sent sharp stabs of pain rippling through me. My cheek still throbbed where that bastard had hit me, and the coppery taste of blood lingered on my tongue. I didn’t dare try to stand; the last time I did, I’d nearly passed out from the dizziness.Instead, I stayed curled up in the corner, my knees pulled to my chest, trying to make myself as small as possible. The dirty concrete floor was unforgiving, but at least it was cool against my feverish skin.Voices filtered in from outside the room, low and muffled. I strained to hear, desperate for any scrap of information that might make sense of this nightmare.“Alonso won’t like this.”The name cut through the haze of my exhaustion. Alonso. Cruz. The don of their syndicate. The one who has had scores to settle with the Castillo family for as long as he could breathe. The one who Alaric hated more than anything else. T