64Emilia’s POV I’d been in my room all day, wrapped up in the thick comforter like it could shield me from everything going on outside. The walls felt like they’re closing in, the silence so heavy it was almost oppressive. I haven’t eaten, haven’t moved much except to roll over and stare at a different spot on the ceiling. It was the kind of day where time felt elastic—every minute stretches out endlessly, but somehow, hours have slipped by.It was very hard to get my thoughts straight. They were a tangled mess spinning around my head, refusing to settle. Everything felt different now, like the floor has shifted beneath my feet and I’m trying to find my balance again. I should have left the mansion—gone for a walk, cleared my head—but instead, I’ve just stayed here, letting the memories wash over me like waves crashing against a rocky shore.I closed my eyes and my mind drifted back to the look on Alaric’s face when he confronted Dominic. It was a mask of cold fury, the kind that wo
65Alaric’s POV The sun was just beginning to set and I could hear the murmur of voices from the kitchen, where Allesio was going over the latest shipment logs with our suppliers. I stood by the window in my office, watching the sky darken each passing second as I took a slow sip of whiskey, savoring the burn. The house felt strangely calm tonight, despite everything that had happened over the past few weeks.I needed that calm, even if it was just an illusion. Too much had gone down the drain recently, and I could feel the tension coiling beneath the surface. It was only a matter of time before something snapped.A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Only one person knocks with that specific kind of confidence, like he owns the place.“Come in, Guiseppe,” I called out, nearly rolling my eyes as I set my glass down on the table.The door swung open, and Guiseppe walked in, his sharp gaze sweeping the room before it settled on
66Emilia’s POV I watched Francesca dart ahead of us, her curls bouncing as she ran toward the playground. She was all energy and excitement, a bundle of joy that seemed to radiate life in a way that made it impossible not to smile.Alaric walked beside me, his hands in his pockets, looking out of place in his casual clothes. He was dressed in dark jeans and a simple black t-shirt that somehow made him look even more intimidating than his usual suits. He hadn’t said much since we left the house, but that was typical of him.“Francesca,” he called, his voice softer than usual. “Don’t go too far.”She turned and gave him a thumbs-up before resuming her sprint toward the swings. I smiled at her enthusiasm, feeling a rush of warmth. This was a side of her I didn’t get to see often—a carefree child, just enjoying a day out with her dad.“She’s going to run herself out in the first ten minutes,” I said lightly, glancing over at Alaric.He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Probably,”
67Alaric’s POV I stood crosslegged as I watched Francesca run ahead, her curls bouncing as she sprinted from the jungle gym to the swings. It was a good day for her, I could tell. She was laughing, smiling, so full of life that it almost made me forget the darkness we would be returning to.Almost.“Emilia, come push me!” Francesca called out, her voice cutting through my thoughts.I glanced over at Emilia, who was standing a few steps away, her arms crossed as she watched us. Her expression softened when Francesca called for her, and she moved toward the swings without hesitation. Francesca grinned, practically leaping into the seat. Emilia positioned herself behind her, giving her a gentle push.“Higher, Emilia!” Francesca squealed.Emilia chuckled, obliging her request with a stronger push. Francesca’s giggles filled the air loudly as she grinned at Emilia. My heart squeezed with an emotion I didn’t like at all. It wasn’t jealousy exactly, but it was close. It was the realization
68Emilia’s POV The park had started to empty out, the sun already setting. I sat on a bench, watching Francesca dart between the swings and the slides, her face lit up with a kind of pure, unbridled joy I hadn’t seen in a while. It was infectious, and despite the little argument between Alaric and me earlier, I found myself smiling.Alaric was standing a few feet away, his eyes following Francesca with a mix of protectiveness and something softer that I couldn’t quite place. There was no trace of the coldness and bitterness I had seen in him earlier. And even if his words really stung me, I understood. He looked… different here. More at ease, less like the ruthless mafia leader I’d come to know and more like just a man—a father watching his daughter. I couldn’t help but wonder who he might have been if his life had taken a different path.I got up and walked over to him, feeling the crunch of gravel beneath my shoes. He didn’t acknowledge me right away, but I knew he’d noticed. He a
69Alaric’s POV “Now where the fuck did I keep my card?” I murmured in annoyance, looking for my black Amex but I couldn’t find it.“I should probably ask Emilia if I got it back from her,” I murmured to myself though I doubt she was with it. I had to try though. Maybe she had seen it anywhere. I needed my card. It might have fallen when we got back to the house this evening and maybe she had picked it up. I hoped she had because I needed it urgently now.I walked out of my office and headed to her room. Deep down I knew it wasn’t with her. But I just wanted to see her once again. Maybe to touch her, to be sure if that spark I had felt this evening was imagined or it was real.I walked into her room and stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes flashing at the sight in front of me. She was lying on the bed naked, one hand between her legs and the other twisting her nipples in one hand. A slight moan escaped her lips that sent a jolt straight to my cock. I honestly couldn’t believe what I wa
70Emilia’s POV The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, lighting up the room. I blinked against the brightness, my body slowly coming back to life. The haze of sleep and the aftermath of last night made everything feel a bit surreal. My limbs were heavy, relaxed in a way they hadn’t been in a long time. I turned my head to the side and found Alaric lying next to me, one arm resting above his head, his eyes still closed.I found it quite hard to believe that he hadn’t left immediately after last night. Instead he stayed here with me, wrapping his arms around my waist. And in the middle of the night, he had woken up and fucked me again. I didn’t even remember how I got to his room.For a moment, I just watched him. He looked different when he was asleep. The hard lines of his face softened, the tension that seemed to cling to him had melted away. It was rare to see him like this—unguarded, peaceful. Vulnerable, almost. My heart clenched unexpectedly, a pang of something I d
71Alaric’s POV There was a light knock on my door, and I knew, without having to ask, that it was Emilia by the door. “Come in,” I answered, twirling the pen in my hands. I hadn’t seen her since she left my room this morning, and though I hadn’t been able to keep her out of my mind and all I wanted the most was to bury my cock in her once again, I had more pressing issues.She walked in, wearing a very provocating dress. It hugged her curves like a second skin and showed an alarming amount of cleavage.“You called for me?” She asked, closing the door behind her, turning around and giving me a view of her ass as she did so.God. Was she here to seduce me? To distract me? Because this was the first time I ever saw her wearing something as tight as this.“Yes.” I nodded. “It’s about Francesca. Sit.”She sat, folding her arms beneath her breasts and that only pushed her breasts out more. “what about Francesca?”“I needed your opinion on something. On her schooling,” I replied, going str
208Emilia’s POVThe package sat on the dining table, wrapped in elegant gold paper and tied with a satin bow. Francesca bounced on her toes, her small frame radiating excitement.“Can I open it now, Emilia? Please?”I hesitated, glancing at the doorway where I knew Alaric would appear any moment. My stomach twisted at the thought of his reaction. This wasn’t just any gift—it was from Alonso.“Go ahead, sweetheart,” I said softly, smoothing down her curls. Francesca’s joy was infectious, and I couldn’t bear to ruin it for her.Her tiny fingers worked quickly to tear the paper, revealing a sleek black box. She opened it with a gasp, pulling out a beautiful, hand-carved wooden horse. The craftsmanship was impeccable, every detail perfect, from the delicate reins to the smooth finish of the wood.“It’s so pretty!” Francesca exclaimed, holding it up for me to see. “Look, Emilia! It’s like the ponies in my storybook!”I forced a smile, though my chest felt tight. “It’s beautiful, love. Do
207Emilia’s POVAlaric paced the living room like a caged tiger, his hand raking through his hair as he muttered under his breath. I sat on the couch, my arms folded, trying to keep my own emotions in check. This had become a familiar scene since I’d returned from seeing Alonso, the air between us heavy with tension neither of us seemed willing—or able—to break.Finally, he stopped and turned to face me, his dark eyes blazing. “I don’t understand how you can even consider letting that man into your life after everything he’s done.”I took a deep breath, bracing myself. “It’s not about letting him in, Alaric. It’s about understanding where I came from, about finding some kind of peace with it.”“Peace?” he repeated, his voice sharp. “You think you’re going to find peace with a man like Alonso? He’s a manipulator, Emilia. He’ll say whatever he thinks you want to hear to worm his way into your good graces.”I stood, my frustration bubbling over. “Do you think I don’t know that? Do you t
206Emilia’s POVI was seated across from Alonso in the dimly lit study of his villa, the journal clutched tightly in my hands. It felt strange to be here again, to look into the eyes of a man who had caused me so much pain and confusion, yet who claimed to have loved my birth mother more than life itself. He looked different today—not the powerful, untouchable mafia king, but a man weighed down by his own ghosts.“I found this,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt as I placed the journal on the polished wooden table between us. “It was my mother’s.”Alonso’s face softened, his gaze dropping to the worn leather cover. He didn’t reach for it. Instead, he leaned back, his expression shadowed with something I couldn’t quite name. Guilt? Pain? Regret?“She kept it hidden,” I continued. “But it paints a picture I’m not sure I can reconcile. She loved you, Alonso. That much is clear. But she was also afraid of you, afraid of what this life would do to her—and to me.”His shoulders sagged,
205Emilia’s POVI sat at the edge of the couch, clutching my mother’s journal like it was my lifeline. It had this emotional weight to it that I hated, pressing against my chest like a phantom ache and making me feel suffocated. Alaric paced the room, his sharp movements punctuated by the occasional clenched fist. I’d just finished reading him the most damning entries, and the fire in his eyes made me question whether I should’ve shared them at all.“She loved him,” I said quietly, breaking the tense silence. “That much is clear. But she was scared, too. Scared of what his world meant for her—and for me.”Alaric stopped mid-step, turning to face me. His jaw tightened, and his eyes were colder than I’d seen them in a long time. “She was scared because Alonso dragged her into hell. He promised her safety, and instead, he handed her over to a life she couldn’t escape.”His words cut deep, and not because they were wrong. The journal painted a picture of a man who loved my mother but cou
204Emilia’s POVThe late afternoon sunlight filtered through the wide windows of the library, casting golden patterns across the polished wood floor. My fingers brushed against the spine of an ancient leather-bound journal, its surface cracked and worn with time. I had found it tucked away in a small wooden chest Alonso had left in the room I was temporarily staying in—a chest I wasn’t supposed to open but couldn’t resist. I hadn’t even remembered about it until now.The name Inscribed on the cover made my breath catch. Isabella. My mother.I hesitated, the weight of the moment pressing down on me. I had spent weeks trying to piece together who she really was, struggling to separate the idyllic image I had as a child from the fragmented truth Alonso had given me. And now, here in my hands, was her voice—her thoughts, her fears, her love—all bound in a fragile relic of the past.My heart pounded as I flipped open the cover. The pages were filled with a delicate script, the ink faded b
203Alaric’s POVThe meeting room was quiet except for the low hum of voices as my men debated logistics. Allesio stood at the head of the table, his arms crossed, the tension in his posture mirroring my own. I sat back in my chair, listening but not speaking, my fingers steepled as I processed the information.“They’ve been hitting our distribution routes near the docks,” Allesio said, his tone clipped. “Two shipments delayed this week alone. It’s not coincidence, Alaric.”My jaw tightened. “And you’re sure it’s the Santoros?”Allesio nodded. “As sure as I can be. The timing, the method—it fits their MO. They’re small-time, but they’re not stupid. They see the tension with Alonso and think it’s their chance to play kingmaker.”“Idiots,” I muttered, leaning forward. “They won’t survive stepping into this war.”“We could let them,” Allesio suggested. “Let them hit Alonso’s operations, stir up trouble on his end. It might even work in our favor.”“No,” I snapped, the finality in my voic
202Alaric’s POVThe house was quiet, too quiet, as I sat in my office with a glass of whiskey that I hadn’t touched in over an hour. The amber liquid caught the dim light of the desk lamp, swirling lazily as if mocking my restless mind. Emilia was in the next room, probably pacing, possibly crying, but definitely not telling me everything she was thinking. That was the problem with her. She’d shoulder a world of burdens without letting anyone else carry even a fraction of the weight.And it was killing me.I heard the soft creak of the door opening, and when I looked up, there she was. Her hair was slightly disheveled, her face weary, but there was something very dull in her expression. She didn’t wait for me to invite her in—she rarely did these days. Instead, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts.“Are you going to stand there all night?” I asked, my voice rougher than I intended.She crossed the room and sat in the chair ac
201Emilia’s POVThe house was unusually quiet when I stepped through the front door, the familiar scent of leather and polished wood greeting me like an old friend. My body ached from the stress of the day, and my mind was still reeling from everything Alonso had said. But as my gaze swept the empty entryway, I felt a pang of longing—for the comfort of this home, for Francesca’s sweet voice, and, yes, even for Alaric’s brooding presence.I hadn’t even taken a step toward the living room when I heard the unmistakable sound of Francesca’s laughter floating down the hallway. It was light and unburdened, and it felt like a balm on my frayed nerves.I followed it, my footsteps soft against the tiled floor, and found them in the sunroom. Francesca was perched on Alaric’s lap, her tiny hands clutching one of his much larger ones as she giggled at something he’d said. Alaric, for his part, looked almost relaxed, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.The sight made my heart twist
200Emilia’s POVThe air inside the car felt heavy and suffocating as though the stupidity of my decision pressed down on every passenger. The convoy surrounding us—a caravan of SUVs loaded with Alaric’s men—only heightened my anxiety. Outside the tinted windows, the world passed by in muted colors, but my focus was on the knot in my stomach that tightened with every passing second.“I still think this is a mistake,” Alaric’s voice crackled through the small earpiece I wore, his tone as sharp as the blade he always carried.“I know,” I replied quietly, glancing at the driver, who kept his eyes locked on the road. “But I need to do this.”He sighed audibly. “We’ll be right outside. If anything feels wrong, anything at all—”“I know,” I interrupted. “You’ll storm the place. Just… trust me, Alaric.”The line went quiet, but I could sense his frustration. He hated this, hated the idea of me walking into Alonso’s villa even with his men stationed at every entrance and exit. Still, he’d agr