MasukBianca’s POV
“This is ridiculous.” I sighed looking at the car parking in front of the front doors. “Miss these are the boss’s orders.” Clara said and I rolled my eyes. Dad planned a date for Matteo and me. I hate that he is pressuring me, but Matteo’s father is a well know man in the mafia. Although I know Rafael Ricci’s true intention in making me marry his son, my dad is adamant on this bond. I talked to him millions of times but he won’t change his mind. At least I am going horse riding with him. Something I love to do. Dad knew that, the reason why he planned this day. “Okay I will go down now.” I told her and left my room to greet Matteo. “You look beautiful.” Matteo said as soon as he saw me. I rolled my eyes at him and nodded. These are his stunts. Always trying to sweet talk to me. He doesn’t know that I am not that kind of girl. I won’t swoon at his feet. “Enjoy your day.” Dad said and I tried to smile at him. “Let’s go.” Matteo extended his hand and I ignored him again. He won’t take the hint to leave me alone no matter how many times I reject him. “Isn’t Alessandro coming with us?” I asked dad. “I thought you hated him following you around.” Dad said. I do. But I prefer him being with Matteo and me. I don’t trust Matteo to be honest. And we will be alone together which makes me gag. “I do.” I shrugged because if I showed dad that I want him he will be satisfied. “Matteo can take care of you.” I nodded and followed him to his car. We got in and he turned the car on. “I really don’t know why you hate me.” Matteo said. “I don’t hate you. I just don’t want to marry you.” I replied looking outside the window. “I am not that bad.” He winked and smiled. “I saw you at the banquet flirting with Camilla.” I sneered and he turned red with anger. “I tried to make you jealous.” He gritted out. I laughed internally and stopped myself from mocking him. My dad would be furious. Finally we arrived at our destination. My dad owns a small forest, where we keep our horses and stable. Christofer greeted us as soon as we parked the car. “Miss Bianca. It’s been a while.” He smiled at me. I smiled back, as I’ve known Christofer since he was a baby. He was the son of the old couple who takes care of the stable. “Hello Chris.” I hugged him. He was like a little brother. “You must be Matteo.” Chris extended his hand towards Matteo, but he ignored him. “Is my horse ready?” I asked him to break the ice. “Yes miss.” He replied excitedly. I followed him, and looked back to see a frown on Matteo’s face. Such a satisfaction to see that look on his face. We arrived at the stable, where Luna was standing proudly. My beautiful horse. I bought her with the money I had and surprised dad with her. At first he didn’t like the idea of me having a horse, but he got over it with time. I made sure the saddle and girth are secured, and I adjusted the stirrups. I mount on the horse and held the reins in my left hand. I put my left leg on the on the stirrup and swung my right foot over Luna’s back. I gently lowered myself into the saddle. I didn’t look back as Luna took off. The wind rushed past my face, tangling itself in my hair as I pressed my heels lightly against Luna’s sides. She responded instantly, her muscles tensing beneath me before she surged forward. The rhythmic thud of her hooves against the dirt is a steady drumbeat, matching the pounding in my chest. I laugh, pure unrestrained joy bursting from me. Out here there is no weight of expectation, no boundaries. Just the wild freedom of speed, the deep trust between us. I loosen the reins slightly, giving her the space she craves. She responded with an exhilarating burst of power. “We flew tonight.” I whispered, my voice lost in the whispering wind. She flicks an ear back as if to answer, and I smile, knowing she felt it too. “Enjoying yourself?” I heard a gruff voice from next to me and I whipped my head. “What are you doing here?” I asked Alessandro who was riding a brown horse. “Turned out your date was too scared to ride a horse.” He sneered. “Thanks god.” I replied aa I slowed Luna down. We stopped next to the small lake and I got down to let Luna rest for a bit. “Bodyguard duties?” I asked him. “No.” He replied. I furrowed my brows, and I knew my dad didn’t send him obviously. “How did you know where I am?” “It’s not hard to know things, princess.” He got off his horse. Luna and Alessandro’s horse snuggled and I looked at them in awe. “I thought you knew that I hate being followed.” I rolled my eyes. He didn’t reply patting his horse. He was dressed in full black, with boots. Unlike Matteo he looked handsome. Now I was comparing them which is something bad. I shouldn’t see him like this. He is only my bodyguard, who I am trying to get rid of. I sat down in front of the lake catching my breath. He stayed standing a couple of meters away, observing our surroundings. A couple of minutes later, Matteo came running, he was out of breath. He stopped when he saw Alessandro and didn’t hide his disdain. “What brought you here?” He snapped. Alessandro didn’t give him attention and that made Matteo angrier. “Someone has to look after her, and that’s me.” Matteo hissed and walked towards me.*Bianca's POV*The house was too quiet.Not the tense silence of a war room or the alert stillness of guarded halls — but the kind of quiet that comes after everything has already been said. After truths are laid bare and there is nothing left to shout.Our home.I still wasn’t used to calling it that.The fire in the living room had burned low, embers pulsing softly like a tired heart. Outside, the sea whispered against the cliffs, steady and indifferent to the way my entire world had fractured in the span of days.I sat on the couch with my knees drawn to my chest, staring at nothing.Angelina Siankovski.My mother had lived an entire life before me. A dangerous one. A brilliant one. A doo
*Bianca's POV*The letter haunted me more than the contract.Ink could kill.Signatures could end lives.But words written in grief? Those had a way of surviving everything.She betrayed me.I’d read the line a hundred times over the past months, tracing the indent of my mother’s pen until the paper thinned beneath my fingers. For so long, I’d believed it was the final truth she’d left me — a warning, a judgment, a severed bond.Daniella Volkov.Violet’s mother.The woman whose photograph sat tucked inside a false drawer in Vincenzo’s archive, her arm looped through my mother’s like they w
*Bianca's POV*I thought knowing would make it hurt less. It would make me finally be at peace.I was wrong.Knowing didn’t dull the pain — it sharpened it, gave it edges, gave it names. Knowing meant that every memory of my father now carried a second shadow behind it. Every kindness was suspect. Every silence deliberate.By the time Vincenzo summoned us to the archive room beneath the estate, my grief had already begun to mutate.Into focus.Into rage.The archive wasn’t meant for comfort. No windows. No art. Just steel cabinets, climate-controlled drawers, and a long table scarred by decades of decisions that had ruined lives.“This room,” Vincenzo said evenly, “exists
*Bianca's POV*I didn’t sleep.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my mother — not as she was in my memories, soft-spoken and distant, but as a stranger wearing her face. A woman with another name. Another bloodline. Another war stitched into her veins.Angelina Siankovski.The name tasted wrong in my mouth. Like a lie I had been forced to swallow my entire life.By morning, my grief had hardened into something sharper.I went looking for Nazyr.I found him where the house ended and the sea began — standing alone on the stone terrace, coat untouched by the wind, gaze fixed on the horizon like he was waiting for something that would never return.“You owe me everything,” I said.He didn’t turn. “I know.”I stepped closer. “Start talking.”Nazyr finally faced me. Up close, the resemblance was undeniable. The same eyes. The same stillness that came before violence. The same way emotions didn’t soften the face — they carved it deeper.“She was younger than me,” he began. “And smarter than
*Bianca's POV*I was done being protected.That was the thought that followed me down the corridor, past the portraits, past the guards who straightened when they saw me, past the door everyone avoided unless summoned.The strategy room.I didn’t knock.Vincenzo looked up first. Nazyr was standing by the window, hands folded behind his back, the sea reflected in the hard lines of his face. Erico was seated near the table, already tense — like he’d felt me coming before he heard my steps.“Stop,” I said.Every movement froze.“No more fragments. No more half-truths,” I continued. “No more deciding what I can and cannot survive.”Vincenzo leaned back slowly. “Bianca—”“My mother was killed,” I cut in. “My father ordered my execution. I was hunted in my sleep and married into a war. Whatever you’re protecting me from no longer exists.”Nazyr turned.His eyes — so like mine it made my chest ache — held something heavy. Old.“You are asking for ghosts,” he said quietly.“I was raised by on
*Bianca's POV*The worst part wasn’t that Antonio had seen me.It was that he had been close enough to notice details.The angle of the terrace.The way the light hit the ring.The timing — not before the marriage, not during, but after.He hadn’t guessed.Someone had told him.The strategy room felt smaller now. Not physically — but emotionally. The walls that had once felt solid seemed suddenly permeable, as if secrets could seep through stone.Vincenzo didn’t raise his voice.That was how I knew things had crossed into something colder.“No one leaves,” he said calmly. “Not staff. Not guards. Not family.”Mario straightened instantly. Giovanni’s humor vanished. Paolo’s expression closed like a door locking from the inside.Erico moved closer to me without thinking. His hand didn’t touch me, but his presence was unmistakable — a shield that didn’t ask permission.“The photo,” Paolo said quietly, holding up the locket. “It was taken from inside the perimeter. That narrows it.”“Not b







