Russo's point of viewIn the darkness of my subconsciousness, images flashed, Isabella's smiling face, Cleopatra’s fiery eyes, my grandfather’s stern, unyielding gaze. The weight of my responsibilities pressed down on me, even in sleep, like a heavy chain that refused to let go.I saw myself standing in front of my grandfather, his eyes cold and hard, as he repeated the same words over and over: “Marriage, Enzo. Without it, you are nothing.”Then the scene shifted, and I was in the mansion again, standing over Cleopatra as she looked up at me with defiance and fear in her eyes. “You think you can control me, huh?” she spat, her voice echoing in the empty halls. “You’re just as trapped as I am.”I jerked awake, my heart pounding in my chest, the remnants of the dream clinging to me like a second skin. The room was silent, the only sound the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the distance.I ran a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the unease that had settled deep in my gut. T
Cleo's POV“Cleopatra,” Russo said, his voice cold and measured. “The sooner you accept the reality of your situation, the better it will be for both of us. Remember, you’re here to pay the huge debt of your late father.”His words struck me like a physical blow, leaving me momentarily breathless. The reminder of the man who had always been my protector, my guide felt like a knife twisting in my chest. How could Russo speak of him so callously, reducing his memory to nothing more than a financial transaction? My father was gone, and now Russo was using his death as a weapon against me. For a moment, I could do nothing but stare at Russo, the anger and pain swirling inside me like a storm. The weariness that had settled into my bones since the accident seemed to deepen, dragging me down into a dark pit of despair. I wanted to scream, to lash out, to make him feel even a fraction of the pain I was feeling, but I knew it wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t care.Russo’s eyes flickered as he to
Cleo's POVAfter thinking for what felt like hours, I realized that my only viable option was Russo. But he wouldn’t help me for free that, I was certain. If I wanted his trust, I would have to play his game, be good to him, calm, and compliant. I needed to deceive him, to make him believe that I was slowly giving in, that I was coming around to his way of thinking. Only then could I gain enough freedom to walk out of this prison disguised as a mansion.It seemed like a perfect plan, and I was ready to execute it. But as hours turned into days, and days into weeks, Russo was nowhere to be found. At first, I thought he was simply giving me space, letting me stew in my thoughts until I was ready to do his will. But as time passed and he still didn’t show, my unease grew. It had been almost a month since our last encounter, and the door to my room only opened to deliver meals and remove the trays. Each time, I watched the guards closely, hoping for some sign of what was happening in the
Cleo's POV The days following my meeting with Russo were filled with a strange, tense calm. The mansion was as quiet as ever, but I was allowed to roam more freely, exploring the house’s dark corridors and vast, empty rooms. It was clear that Russo was testing me, giving me a taste of freedom to see if I would betray his trust. But I knew better than to act rashly. Every move I made was calculated, every glance carefully measured. I wandered the hallways, pausing to admire the art on the walls and study the intricate details of the architecture. But my mind was always elsewhere, turning over the same thoughts again and again. Aunt Lydia. The accident. The truth that lay buried beneath layers of lies and deception. It was time to find out what she was hiding. And I would do whatever it took to get those answers. I had been granted more freedom, but I knew it was a fragile thing that could be easily taken away if I made the wrong move. So, I bided my time, waiting for the
Cleo's POV Luck was on my side, as I made it to the blind spot without incident, the shadows of the tall hedges shielding me from view. I glanced around quickly to make sure no one was watching, then reached for the gate and pulled it open just wide enough to slip through.Within the twinkle of an eye, I was out.After running a few meters away from the mansion, I stopped to catch my breath. I found a silent corner where I slid in and quickly changed out of the stolen uniform. I had worn a trouser and a crop top beneath the uniform before leaving home hoping to blend into the crowd without causing unwanted attraction to myself. “Now where do I go first?” I asked myself as I detangled my loose hair. After a few seconds of thought, I decided to see Miley first, to confront him on why he didn't look for me when he didn't hear from me for over a month and maybe we could plan to escape together. While he gets the car and other things ready, I would go over to Aunt Lydia. Chase her out of
The sound of my voice cut through the air like a blade, and the room fell deathly silent. I couldn't believe what I was seeing Miley, the man I had poured my heart into, the man I thought would stand by me no matter what was tangled up in the sheets with my cousin, Ella. Of all people. Rage boiled inside me, mixing with a deep, gut-wrenching betrayal that left me shaking. How could he? And with her of all the girls in New York City?Ella, meanwhile, showed no such shame. She rolled onto her back, stretching lazily as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Her eyes flicked to me, and a smirk curled at the corners of her mouth. “Oh, look who finally decided to show up,” she drawled, completely unfazed. “Don’t take it to heart Cleo, we were just having a bit of fun.”“A bit of fun?” I scoffed. “This looked like so much fun.”Ella tied the few strands of hair lying on her face to the bun on her head. “It is what it is, Cleo”The nonchalance, the absolute lack of remorse in her voice snapped s
Cleo's POVElla’s eyes flickered, her rebellious mask slipping for just a second as she realized how close I had come to pulling the trigger. She didn’t say anything, but the faintest hint of uncertainty crossed her face. For once, she didn’t have a snarky comeback, and the silence between us felt thick and heavy just like a storm about to break.Miley let out a shaky breath, relief flooding his features as he took another step closer. “Cleo, please… just put the gun down,” he urged softly, trying to reach out to me as if his touch could somehow fix the mess he had made. His words were gentle, but they held no real understanding, no acknowledgment of the damage that had been done. I stared at him, and all I could see was the man who had promised me the world, only to tear it apart without a second thought. There was no fixing this. No going back. Miley and Ella had made their choices, and so had I.“It's okay, Cleo,” Miley said, his voice barely a whisper now. “Let’s just end this h
Russo's POVI woke with a throbbing headache, the kind that pulsed behind my eyes and made every sound feel like a knife slicing through my skull. For a moment, I just lay there, blinking up at the ceiling as I tried to piece together why I felt like I’d been run over by a truck. The room was dim, the curtains drawn tightly shut, but the light that seeped through was enough to send a sharp jolt of pain through my temples.With a groan, I pushed myself up, rubbing my eyes and trying to shake off the fog that clung stubbornly to my mind. Something was wrong. I could feel it, an unsettling hum just beneath my skin. I glanced around, my gaze falling on the empty dishes on the table, the faint smell of something bitter lingering in the air. The memory of last night came rushing back, Cleo’s guarded compliance, her soft smiles, the meal she had insisted on preparing.I reached for the plate, sniffing the rim, and the realization hit me like a punch to the gut. Drugged. She’d drugged me. And
Cleo's POV The first light of dawn filtered into the room, faint and cold, casting a pale glow across the bed. I stirred, my body stiff with lingering tension, and reached out instinctively. My hand met the cold, empty sheets beside me, and my heart sank. Russo wasn’t there. I sat up, the silence in the room oppressive. Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I forced myself to go through my morning routine on autopilot; washing my face, brushing my teeth and trying to ignore the ache in my chest. The sunlight streaming through the windows mocked the chill in my chest. It was the weekend, a day I used to look forward to spending with Russo, but given that he didn't wake me up from sleep, he should probably be at the gym. Maybe he’d come back to his senses and apologize, or maybe offering the kind of explanation I longed for after sweating out all of Isabelle's manipulations. I headed downstairs, trying to push away the gnawing unease that had settled in my stomach. Maybe I’m o
Cleo's POV Before I could process what was happening, he was off the bed, pulling away from me without a second glance. The warmth of his touch, the intensity of the moment, vanished as if it had never been there. I was left trembling, the cold air biting at my skin where his warmth had been just moments before. “Russo? What’s wrong?” I asked, but he was already out the door. He rushed out of the room, not even bothering to throw on a shirt, leaving me lying there in the dark. I heard him call her name again, his voice thick with concern as he disappeared down the hallway. Russo, where are you going?” I called out, trying to mask the frustration in my voice. My body was still humming with need, but I forced my legs together, willing the tension to ebb away. He didn’t answer. I bit my lower lip, the lingering warmth between my thighs rapidly cooling into a hollow ache. For a moment, I just lay there, paralyzed by a mix of emotions, confusion, anger, hurt. The remnants of pl
Cleo's POV I forced another smile as Isabelle belched in my face, her breath reeking of alcohol. My stomach turned, and I had to fight the urge to step back. “Let’s go upstairs,” Russo said quickly, grabbing Isabelle’s arm. He looked at me, his expression almost pleading. “You don’t mind me guiding her upstairs, do you? She’s really drunk, you know.” He didn’t even wait for my response, just turned and put his arm around Isabelle again, guiding her toward the entrance of his building. I stood there, watching them. A thousand words tangled in my throat, but none of them would come out. I didn't suffer any grievances? This woman clearly knew who I was, before Russo could even introduce me. So, how come I never heard anything about her for once in the past six months? Fighting the lump in my throat, I grabbed my broken suitcase and trudged after them, my mind reeling. In the elevator, I finally found my voice. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days,” I said, forcing myself to look
Author’s POV As we turn the page into this next chapter, I want to take a moment to express my heartfelt gratitude for your support on Cleo, Russo, Aunt Lydia, Miley and Ella's journey thus far. Their story has been one of love, betrayal, and resilience, and it is far from over. In this continuation, you will delve deeper into Cleo's evolution as she navigates the complexities of her relationship with Russo and his secret long distance girlfriend, Isabelle, explores the intricacies of her past, and confronts the challenges that come with reclaiming her future. As the bonds of friendship are tested and new alliances are formed, prepare for a tapestry of emotions that will draw you even closer to these beloved characters. This sequel is crafted to seamlessly weave into the narrative you’ve already come to know, enriching the themes and the heart of the story while unveiling fresh layers of intrigue and connection. You are invited to immerse yourself once more in their world, where e
Cleo's POV Russo raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in his expression. “Where exactly?”I couldn’t help but smile, a sense of freedom bubbling up inside me. “To my parents’ grave.”His expression softened, the lines of uncertainty easing away. “Then let’s go.”We stepped outside, the cool air embracing us as we made our way to the car. The world felt different now, lighter somehow, as though the burdens of my past were finally loosening their grip. I climbed into the passenger seat, and he turned to me, a flicker of admiration in his eyes.“You’re brave, Cleo. Facing the past like this.”I shrugged, feeling a mix of pride and vulnerability. “It’s time to make things right and to honor them properly.”The drive to the cemetery was filled with a comfortable silence, each passing moment allowing me to gather my thoughts. As we arrived, I glanced out the window at the sprawling grounds, the rows of gravestones standing like sentinels in the soft afternoon light.“Here we are,” I sai
She flinched, unable to meet my gaze as the truth unraveled before us both, heavy and undeniable. For a moment, a flicker of remorse crossed her face, but it was gone just as quickly, replaced by the twisted self-justification that had driven her all along."Cleo, you don’t understand," she hissed, her voice wavering. "I did it for survival. You don’t know the pressure, the weight of everything I had to endure. Your father was... useless to me. I needed control, or we’d have been left with nothing."My hands clenched, the anger simmering hotter than ever. "So you took everything from him and from me just to save yourself?"She bit her lip, struggling to hold onto her composure, but she was visibly cracking. "I… I did what I thought was best. I didn’t mean for it to go this far," she murmured, the hint of vulnerability almost pitiful if it weren’t for the years of pain she’d caused me.Russo stepped closer, his presence casting a shadow over her. "And Ella?" he asked sharply, his tone
The echo of Ella’s threats lingered in the quiet of the morning, her footsteps fading down the path. I leaned against the gate, taking a slow, steady breath, steadying myself after the charged encounter. My cheek still stung from her slap, but the ache only served to solidify the resolve that had been simmering inside me for so long.As I walked back to the house, Russo stepped into the hall, his brow furrowed as he looked me over. “Did she hurt you?” he asked, his voice calm but with a flicker of anger beneath.I shook my head. “She tried. But she’s not worth it, Russo. Not anymore.”He nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting in a faint, approving smile. “That’s the Cleo I know.” He led me toward the kitchen, where he already had a steaming cup of coffee waiting, knowing I needed a moment to regain my composure.I took a sip, feeling the warmth spread through me, grounding me. “She’s going to keep coming back, you know. Ella won’t stop until she thinks she’s won, no matter what she
Cleo's POV My head was pounding, still foggy from sleep, when a loud bang echoed through the house. I shot up, barely able to focus as I tried to shake off the drowsiness. My vision cleared just enough to see the small screen that connected to the outside security camera. Ella was standing there, seething with anger, her face twisted in a way that sent a warning through my veins.I was expecting her anyways, but not so soon. I adjusted my clothes, trying to mask the unease creeping up my spine, and went to the gate. As soon as it opened enough to let her in, Ella stormed forward, her fury radiating like a wave. Before I could even get a word out, she slapped me hard across the face, the sting sharp and immediate.“Where are they, Cleo?” she demanded, her voice icy and controlled. “Where’s my mother? Where’s Miley?”My mind raced, but I kept my expression steady, meeting her furious gaze with as much composure as I could muster. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, my voi
Cleo's POV The leather seat in Russo's car was cool against my back, a stark contrast to the fiery adrenaline that still surged through my veins. I leaned back, trying to gather my thoughts, but my mind was still replaying the scene in that hotel room with Miley. The look on his face, his shock, his fear was something I’d savor for a long time. Russo glanced over at me from the driver’s seat, his sharp eyes assessing me before a smirk curved his lips. “You know, you looked stunning in that wedding gown,” he teased, the hint of laughter in his voice. I scoffed, rolling my eyes but unable to suppress the small smile tugging at my lips. “If you’re that invested in how I looked, you could’ve at least given me a proper wedding,” I shot back, raising an eyebrow at him. “Even if our marriage is just on paper.” Russo chuckled, his deep laugh filling the car. “So be it,” he said, his voice taking on a playful edge. “Let’s have that grand wedding, Cleo. White doves, a choir, the works.