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Sofia's heart pounded in her chest as the rain pelted against the windows, matching the rhythm of her mother's sobs.
She could hear her mother's footsteps pacing back and forth in the living room, waiting for her husband to come home. Then, suddenly, the sound of a car pulling up to the house cut through the storm.
"Mama, he's here!" Sofia whispered, barely audible over the sound of the rain.
She watched as her mother rushed to the door, wiping away her tears and plastering on a fake smile.
"Welcome home, dear," her mother said, her voice shaking.
Sofia's father strode into the house, a beautiful woman in his arms. Sofia recoiled at the sight of her father's mistress, but her mother put on a brave face.
"Who is this?" her mother asked, trying to keep her tone light. "Is everything alright?"
"Everything is fine," her father sneered, pushing her away. "Can't a man have a little fun?"
Sophia knew this just wasn't right although she was just a teenager!
Her mom's fingers trembled as she stood straighter, her voice gaining a strength. “How could you?” she choked out. “You bring her into our home and expect me to—to just—”
Her father didn’t even look at her mom. Instead, he shrugged off his coat, tossing it onto the sofa like this was any other night.
Sophia was scary. Her mom lunged forward, yanking his arm. “I’m your wife! Don’t I deserve an explanation? Don’t I deserve—”
Crack.
The sound of his palm striking her cheek sent me reeling backward. Her mom staggered, her hand flying to her face where an angry red mark bloomed.
Her father's face twisted with rage. "You're always so worried about me," he spat. "It's pathetic. I hate that you even think about me. You don't deserve me. Get out of my way."
"Please, honey, don't do this to me," her mother begged, grabbing her husband's arm.
"Don't touch me," her father yelled.
Sofia's mother flinched at her father's words, tears streaming down her face again. Sofia watched as her father raised his hand to strike her mother. She wanted to scream, to tell him to stop, but she was frozen with fear.
Her father didn't stop. Instead, he kicked his wife's stomach so hard she fell to the ground crying and clutching her stomach.
Sofia retreated to the staircase, her heart breaking with every sob. She clutched her stuffed animal tightly, hoping and praying that her father would leave soon and they would be safe again. After a while, her father stopped throwing punches and kicks after spitting on her mother.
Sofia peeked through the railing of the staircase, her eyes wide with fear as she watched her mother sobbing on the floor. Her father, towering over her, yelled insults and accusations at her.
"How dare you question me?" he bellowed. "You know I can do whatever I want. You're lucky I even bother to come back here."
Sofia's mother could not speak but whimpered in pain.
Her father kicked her mother while she was still on the ground, causing her to scream out in pain. Sofia covered her mouth to stifle her sobs.
"You're nothing but a worthless piece of trash," her father spat at her mother. "And this brat," he gestured towards Sofia, "is just a reminder of how much I hate you."
Sofia's mother tried to shield her from her husband's wrath, but he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up to her feet. Sofia watched in horror as he continued to beat her mother mercilessly, her cries echoing through the empty house.
"No, please stop," Sofia whispered to herself, tears streaming down her face.
But her father didn't stop until he had vented all of his rage and anger. As he finally left for his room with his beautiful mistress, Sofia's mother lay on the ground, bruised and broken. Sofia rushed to her mother's side, holding her tightly when the room was locked upstairs.
"Mama, are you okay?" Sofia asked with pain.
"I'm okay, baby," her mother said weakly. "Don't worry about me. Just go to bed now."
"Mama, you also come with me to my room. Dad has locked your room, so where will you sleep?" Sofia asked with teary eyes.
Her mother nodded, still trembling with fear and sadness. Mother and daughter made their way to Sofia's bedroom when they heard the woman moaning Sofia's father's name. Her mother cried, covering her mouth. Sofia was eleven years old, but she understood everything that was happening in this house. They slowly went to Sofia's room. Sofia made her mother lie on the bed.
Her mother moaned as her whole body was aching with unbearable pain after getting a merciless beating.
"Mama, I'm here," Sofia said as she sat beside her mother, holding her hand. "I'll never leave you. I promise."
Her mother looked at her with tears in her eyes, her face still swollen from the beating.
"I know you won't, baby," she said weakly, her voice trembling with vulnerability. "You're the only good thing in my life," she whispered, the weight of her words heavy with a mixture of despair and affection.
“Why do you suffer Dad’s beatings and endure him bringing that woman home?!” Sofia's innocent question pierced the tense air, her confusion and concern evident in her furrowed brow.
“He's a rich man, Sofia, and rich men have insatiable needs,” her mother responded, her voice strained with both resignation and hidden anguish. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, mirroring the turmoil within her. “He feels entitled to vent his anger on me and seeks solace in other women.”
“But you didn't have to endure it, Mom. Why don't you leave him?” Sofia's voice trembled.
“I can't, darling. I have no one to turn to,” her mother confessed, her voice cracking with the weight of her truth. “I came from a poor family, and I feel trapped. I'm bound by circumstances to endure this life, and... and I still love him,” she admitted, her lips trembling with a sense of helplessness.
Sofia’s heart filled with unknown fear.
Her father's cruelty had scarred her deeply and it would take a long time for her to heal.
"Don't worry, mom," Sofia said softly. "I'll take care of you always. And I'll never marry a rich man. Rich people are heartless and demons."
Her mother smiled weakly, her hand stroking Sofia's hair. "You're such a good girl, Sofia. But you have to marry one day just like Every girl has to marry. A prince will come to marry you on a white horse. He will make you happy and love you forever."
"No, Mom, I will never marry, and I will never leave you. Men don't love. they only beat and treat women as slaves," Sofia cried as she hugged her mother tightly.
"Sofia, my child! I love you and will always be with you," her mother whispered in her dull voice.
After a few months, her mother passed away. However, she had died inside long ago due to her husband's cruelty and betrayal. People thought she died from some illness, but Sofia knew it was murder, even though she had no proof to accuse anyone.
Sofia was left alone in this cruel world, and her problems increased when her father remarried just a few days after her mother's death. Her father's beautiful mistress was now her stepmother. She hated Sofia even more.
She brought her daughter Kat with her. Her father loved his new wife's daughter more. Sofia's position in her own house was now not better than a housemaid.
Sofia would cry at night, gazing at the stars in the dark sky, believing her mother was watching over her.
"Mom, why did you leave me? How can I live without you? Why didn't you take me with you?" she whispered, standing near the window and looking into the night with her wet eyes.
Silence. The stars didn't answer.
margin-left:0.0000pt;mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto;mso-pagination:widow-orphan;text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph;">But she knew one thing: Men were monsters. And she would never to get married.Cristiano answered the call, lifting the phone to his ear without a single word.Silence. Then a shaky breath on the other end.“Don Vitelli?” Raffaele’s hesitant voice broke in. “I— I know I wasn’t supposed to call you. But…”Cristiano’s eyes narrowed. His tone was ice. “But?”There was a long exhale, like the man was gathering courage he didn’t have.“I just want to know…” Raffaele’s voice cracked. “How’s Siena?”Cristiano leaned back in his leather chair, unreadable. “She’s fine.”Raffaele didn’t speak immediately — as if he was stunned by the simple answer. He hadn’t expected Cristiano to reply so calmly.“Thank you,” he whispered, relieved. “Please… take care of her. She’s innocent. She’s kind. She doesn’t belong in your world.”Raffaele bit his lip, the words spilling before he could stop himself.Cristiano couldn’t see his expression through the phone, but he heard him, and it irritated him.His voice snapped, low and sharp.“She does belong to my world. Don’t forget your pla
The news that Cristiano Vitelli’s wife was in the headlines had Vittorio furious. He didn’t want to argue about it at home, so he waited until they were in the office. Vittorio stood over Cristiano, hands on the desk. “What were you thinking when you did this?” he snapped. “Why did you go to her college and announce she’s your wife? Now it’s everywhere.”Cristiano stayed unnervingly calm. “I know what I’m doing, Father.”“Do you?” Vittorio barked. “Was it wise to reveal her identity? Do you understand what that means? They’ll be coming for her any day now.”Cristiano’s jaw tightened. He didn’t answer instantly.“I am not a kid, Father. Don’t worry — nothing’s going to happen. Why would they come after her just because I married her? And if you’re so worried, why did you make me marry her?” Cristiano snapped, irritation flickering across his face, but doing nothing to calm his father.Vittorio stared at his son for a long, hard minute. His jaw tightened. The words came out low and clip
A few tears slipped down her cheeks.Cristiano stood there speechless as Siena continued.“I can’t believe they abandoned me just like that,” she sobbed, and he couldn’t hold back anymore—he pulled her into his chest. She clung to him, crying harder.“I miss my mom… she loved me so much. How could she leave me like this?” Her voice cracked. “Raffaele was always so protective of me. How could my big brother just forget about me? And Silvia—my sister—she panicked every time I so much as sneezed. She studied medicine because she wanted to keep me healthy forever. How could she leave me?”Tears poured down her face.“And Dad… Dad was always worried about me. He made sure I never suffered, not even a little. He wanted the best of everything for me.” Her voice broke completely. “Now he’s gone… without a trace. Not even thinking twice about who would take care of his baby girl.”Cristiano cupped her face in his large palms and gently lifted her head so she would look at him.“I’m here, doll,”
The next morning, before Siena had even fully opened her eyes, Cristiano scooped her into his arms. He didn’t bother asking anything—not how she felt, not what she planned to do—he simply carried her straight into the bathroom, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.He wanted to bathe with her.The shower, meant to be a quick ten-minute rinse, stretched into an hour the moment his hands slid over her skin—time unraveled, and everything else ceased to exist. Siena was pressed to the shower wall, and he kept thrusting hard and fast, so deep into her. The steam enveloped them, warm water running over their tangled bodies. His touch was slow at first—possessive, hungry—and then everything blurred into breathless urgency against the tile. The world narrowed to the sensation of him, the water, the heat, the way he kept himself buried in her like she was something he couldn’t let go of.By the time their shower sex ended, Siena’s legs felt like they no longer belonged to her. Her
Moscow, late night — a tired barroom where whispers traveled faster than the vodka.“Pakhan,” a man hissed from the shadowed table. “The new Italian Don is married. The woman he married — she isn’t a secret anymore.”The Pakhan rose as if pulled by a wire. The room sucked in a breath; his face closed like a gate. Grey-streaked hair framed a hawkish face, hazel eyes so cold they cut through the smoke. His bulk filled the space; his presence — part animal, part authority — made the messenger swallow and every man at the table shrink back.“Finally,” the Pakhan muttered. “I found her.”He stared at the grainy photo passed around the table. For years, he’d kept a small, impossible hope buried — the only hope that the missing girl might still be alive. Now that hope slammed into terrible proof.“How are you so sure it’s her?” another voice asked, guarded.The Pakhan snapped his head around so quickly it might have cracked a bone; when his gaze landed on the man, it burned like a brand. “Be
When they finally broke apart, breathless, she gave him a playful push toward the steering wheel and gestured with her eyes for him to start the car.He exhaled deeply, as if reluctant to end the moment, before starting the ignition and shifting his focus on the road ahead.Their drive led them to a high-end music store, its glass walls showcasing rows of gleaming instruments. Her eyes widened in surprise and delight.“You brought me here?” she asked softly, turning to him.“It’s time to upgrade, mia piccola regina del rock. Go on, choose the best one.” he said simply, his tone firm but affectionate.She couldn’t help but smile as her eyes swept over the rows of guitars — and then she saw it, the one she had always dreamed of owning. It was right there in their collection. Without a moment’s hesitation, she picked it up, running her fingers lovingly over the sleek strings of her chosen instrument.“This one!” she said, turning to him with a bright grin. He nodded in approval before ha







