Romans de Elodie

The morning sun had barely begun to climb when I woke to the sound of the front doorbell. My heart skipped a beat, a strange unease settling over me. Ares stirred beside me, noticing my sudden alertness.“Who is it?” I whispered, still in bed, listening.“I don’t know,” he replied, already moving toward the window. “Stay here.”I watched him walk toward the door, his movements calm but deliberate. I heard his voice, low and steady. “Who’s there?”There was a pause. Then a woman’s voice, unfamiliar but firm. “I’m here to speak with Valeria.”Ares’s jaw tightened. “Do you have an appointment?”“No,” she said, her tone sharp. “But it’s urgent. For her safety.”I felt a chill run down my spine. Urgency was rarely good news. Slowly, I slipped out of bed and followed him toward the door.Ares opened it, standing tall, protective. The woman stepped in, her eyes scanning the house quickly. She looked professional, but there was something calculating in the way she moved.“Valeria Hart?” she a

The morning began like any other. Sunlight spilled across the kitchen counter, painting soft patterns on the floor. I poured myself coffee, enjoying the warmth in my hands. Ares moved quietly around the kitchen, humming softly as he prepared breakfast.“Good morning,” I said softly, smiling at him.“Morning,” he replied, eyes soft. “Sleep well?”“Yes,” I admitted. “For the first time in weeks, I feel rested.”He handed me a plate with scrambled eggs and toast. “I’m glad. You’ve earned this calm.”I chuckled softly. “We’ve earned it. All of us.”He leaned against the counter, watching me. “Yes. And we need to protect it. Together.”I nodded. “Step by step, moment by moment.”“Exactly,” he said, his voice quiet, almost reverent.---After breakfast, we decided to take a walk along the property. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of flowers and soil. Our daughter ran ahead, laughing, chasing butterflies with small, eager hands. Ares and I walked slowly behind her, hands brushing

The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of wet earth and distant flowers. I woke slowly, stretching and feeling the quiet warmth of the house around me. Ares was already moving about, the faint sound of dishes clinking and soft humming reaching me from the kitchen. Somehow, the calm had become a rhythm I didn’t want to leave.I slipped into the kitchen quietly. Ares looked up from pouring juice and smiled. “Good morning,” he said softly, his voice low and steady.“Morning,” I replied, taking a deep breath. “Coffee?”“Always.” He handed me a cup, and I took it, savoring the warmth. “Sleep well?”“For the first time in months, yes,” I admitted. “The house… the quiet… it feels right.”He leaned against the counter, eyes soft. “It should feel right. That’s what I wanted. A place where you can feel… home.”I smiled faintly. “You’ve succeeded.”We drank our coffee slowly, the silence between us comfortable, filled with understanding rather than words.---Later, I went to check on the

The morning light filtered through the curtains again, soft and golden, painting the walls with warmth. I stretched in bed, listening to the quiet hum of the house. There was a rhythm here, a calmness that felt new, yet familiar. I could hear Ares moving around the kitchen, the soft clatter of dishes, the hum of a kettle. It was comforting in a way I hadn’t realized I’d been craving.I got up quietly, padding to the kitchen. Ares looked up as I entered, his expression soft.“Good morning,” he said, voice low and calm.“Morning,” I replied, smiling faintly. “Coffee?”“Always.” He poured a fresh cup for me and slid it across the counter. “Sit. I made breakfast too.”I raised a brow. “You cooked?”“I did,” he said with a small shrug. “Not much, but it’s edible.”I laughed softly, taking the plate he offered. “Edible is perfect.”We sat together at the small table, sipping our coffee and nibbling on eggs and toast. The quiet between us wasn’t empty; it was comfortable, the kind of silence

The first week in the new house passed slowly, almost dreamlike. Every morning, I woke to the sunlight spilling through the windows, painting soft patterns across the floor. It was quiet. Not empty or lonely, but quiet in a way that felt deliberate, like the world had finally slowed down for us. I never imagined peace could feel so… tangible.Ares had adapted quickly, though I could see him still measuring himself, ensuring that nothing he did would push me away. He moved around the house with careful steps, keeping things orderly, thoughtful. Even his smile seemed softer, more genuine, less practiced.One morning, he was already awake when I came into the kitchen. He was humming softly as he arranged fruit on the counter, the sunlight catching the strands of his hair.“Good morning,” I said quietly.“Morning,” he replied without looking up. “Coffee?”“Yes, please.” I stepped closer, inhaling the faint scent of him—warm, clean, familiar.He finally glanced at me, eyes soft. “You’re ad

The next morning, sunlight spilled softly through the curtains, touching the edges of the room with a warm glow. I lay in bed for a moment, listening to the quiet hum of the house. The world outside seemed calm, almost like it had slowed down just for us. I felt a strange mixture of anticipation and comfort. Today wasn’t about chaos, deadlines, or confrontations. Today was about living.I stirred when I felt Ares move beside me. He sat up slowly, stretching his arms over his head before lowering them and glancing at me. “Morning,” he said softly, voice still thick with sleep.“Morning,” I replied, smiling faintly. “You sleep well?”“For the first time in months,” he admitted. “And you?”“I did,” I said honestly. “Though I woke early. Couldn’t resist the light.”He leaned back on his elbows, studying me quietly. “I was thinking we could have breakfast on the balcony. Quiet. Just us.”I nodded. “That sounds perfect.”---The kitchen wasn’t fully finished, but it was functional and warm.

The mansion was quiet.Not the uneasy quiet that had settled after the bloodshed, but a different kind—gentler, deeper. It was the hush of a house learning peace again, of walls no longer echoing with betrayal, rage, or secrets. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Alessio could breathe.The heavy weight of vengeance had lifted, leaving behind something fragile but honest. Gabriella remained close, not out of obligation or fear, but out of something they’d both fought hard to reclaim: trust.A week had passed since the night of reckoning. The bodies had been buried. The halls scrubbed clean. The old tapestries—once embroidered with the legacy of the Martini name—had been taken down. Alessio didn’t want reminders. Not of the man he had to become, and certainly not of the empire his brother had twisted into something monstrous.One bright morning, Gabriella stood at the bottom of the grand staircase, dressed simply, one hand resting gently on her belly. Alessio watched her f

Gabriella's Pov The sound cracked through the night like a curse. One shot—sharp, final.I spun around.“Leonardo!” I screamed, as my brother’s body crumpled to the ground, his breath hitching as if the air had betrayed him. Blood poured from the wound in his back, dark and thick, staining his shirt like ink spilled from a shattered bottle.I caught him before he hit the stone floor. His weight folded into me, heavier than I remembered, like the life was already ebbing out of him. Gabriella dropped to her knees beside us, hands trembling, eyes wide with disbelief. Her voice caught in her throat as she tried to speak, but no words came out—just a gasp, choked and broken.Vandel stood across the room, still holding the smoking gun. His face was stone. No regret. No hesitation. Only hatred.I cradled Leo's head against my chest. “Stay with me,” I begged, my voice breaking. “Just hold on. Please, Leo…”He coughed, and a thin line of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. “No... it’

Gabriella's Pov The night was supposed to be over. We had escaped. I thought we were safe—just for a second. Alessio’s hand gripped mine tightly, his other hand on the wheel, speeding through the darkened street like he could outrun the world. But safety, I was learning, was just an illusion. And illusions don’t last.Two headlights suddenly swerved into view behind us, fast and aggressive. My stomach twisted before my brain could catch up."Alessio..." I murmured, my voice already trembling.He glanced in the rearview mirror, his jaw tightening. "I see them."Another car came at us from the left. That’s when I knew—we weren’t being followed. We were being hunted.Gunfire cracked through the silence.Glass shattered.“DOWN!” Alessio barked.Without thinking, I threw myself across the console and lunged at him. We dropped below the dashboard as bullets punched through the windows, glass raining down in jagged pieces. I could hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears, deafening me.“I

Alessio's Pov My heart jolted like someone had driven a knife straight through it. Unborn child—that was what Martini had just said. The words echoed in my head, bouncing around with disbelief, confusion, and something dangerously close to hope.I stared at Gabriella.Everything else—Martini’s gun pointed at my forehead, the sweat dripping down my back, the pounding in my ears—faded into the background as I searched her face for the truth. Her lips parted slightly, her eyes shimmering with something raw. Something real.“Yes,” she whispered, barely audible. But I didn’t need her to say more.She was pregnant.With my child.I blinked. My vision tunneled, not from the pressure of the gun still threatening my life, but from the gravity of her words. She was carrying my baby. Our baby.A tremor ran through me, knocking the air from my lungs. I hadn’t seen this coming—hadn’t even considered it. But as shock gave way to awe, a warmth bloomed in my chest. A fierce kind of joy. The kind of

Alessio's Pov She looked like she hadn’t aged a second—but she wasn’t the same girl I once knew.Gabriella stood across the room, framed by the long shadows of dusk bleeding in through the tall windows. The light touched her skin like it belonged there, softening the lines of worry etched into her face. But I could still see it—the fear hidden beneath the surface, the way her fingers curled around the edge of her coat just a little too tightly. She was nervous. And she should be.Because I didn’t trust her.Not anymore.I had no idea what game she was playing by coming here again, by standing beside Martini of all people. That bastard had never shown mercy a day in his life. I didn’t even know how she’d ended up in his custody—or why she hadn’t tried to escape.I studied her face, looking for something familiar, something real.And that’s when it happened.She winked.A slow, subtle flutter of her eyelid. Barely noticeable, but unmistakable.I froze.It hit me like a punch to the gut

Gabriella's Pov The morning sunlight slipped through the thin curtains like golden fingers, brushing against my face, warming my cheek. I blinked slowly, my lashes fluttering against the pillowcase as I stirred, trying to resist the gentle nudge of daybreak. My body ached in places I didn’t even know could ache, a dull soreness clinging to every limb like a second skin. Sleep had claimed me like a thief in the night, but it hadn't been kind—just necessary. I felt as though I'd fought a war in my dreams and lost.For a long moment, I just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, trying to remember how it felt to wake up without dread pressing on my chest. The events of the past few days had blurred into one tangled mess of adrenaline, pain, and fear. But there was something else too—something sharp and persistent beneath it all. A name. Alessio.Just the thought of him sent a shiver down my spine. I hated how his presence lingered in my mind, how the memory of his voice could still echo