_Amelie’s POV_I didn’t cry anymore.There were no tears left. They had been scraped out of me alongside the skin under my nails, drained with every drop of blood, cauterized with every burn Silvio gave me. Now there was only a quiet cold, numb, and bitter. I sat slumped against the wall, my body broken but my mind still functioning—barely.I was barely functioning at this point. The door opened.This time, it wasn’t Silvio.It was my father.Or rather sperm donor. Santiago walked in wearing his usual black, a long coat trailing behind him. His presence didn’t fill the room. It crushed it.I couldn’t lift my head, but my body still reacted. Every cell braced.I wanted to kill him but I couldn’t move a single muscle in my body. His shoes clicked across the floor as he came to stand in front of me. “You’re alive,” he said plainly.“Unfortunately,” I rasped, voice like rust.He could have just killed me instead of making me go through all these. He crouched, tilting my chin up with o
_Amelie’s POV_I woke up with a jolt, my eyes roaming around the room as I tried to figure out why I had woken up in the first place. And that was when I heard it again… the sound of metal.It was a soft click which was followed by the door opening.My entire body tensed. No part of me could move without me screaming. My hands felt detached—raw, destroyed, useless. The pain from yesterday hadn’t faded. It had taken root in me, humming through my blood like a second heartbeat.I hadn’t even known when I had lost consciousness. The pain was too much for me to bear, I had to pass out. I watched as Silvio stepped inside. He looked Calm and Composed. He was dressed in the same black gloves and tailored shirt as if yesterday never happened.But I knew it had. My fingers were proof of it. “You didn’t use the blade,” he said, eyes flicking to where it lay untouched by the wall. “That’s good. Means there’s something still alive in you.”I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. My lips were dry and crack
Amelie’s POVI don’t remember when I started screaming.Only that I stopped hearing my own voice long before I stopped feeling the pain.The man didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t smile. He didn’t gloat. That somehow made it worse.His silence was more deadly than any other thing that I know.He introduced himself as Silvio. “I work in truth,” he said, like that was a job. Like that made him an artist.I didn't know why he was here, what he was here for. Until he opened the metal case slowly, letting me see everything inside. Pliers. Hooks. A blade with a serrated edge. Cotton. Alcohol. Rusted things and shining things and things that didn’t look like they belonged in a toolkit, or a hospital, or anywhere that made sense.But they were, staring right at me. At first, my eyes widened. Surely he wouldn't be using all those on me… right?“Why are you here?” I asked, trying to stop my voice from shaking. I couldn't let him see how scared I was. Wouldn't let him think he had broken me.
Amelie’s POVI should have known he knew what I was up to the entire time.Every breath. Every lie I tried to stitch together with trembling fingers. Santiago wasn’t fooled by trembling.“You’re sweating,” he said lightly, swirling his drink. “Why?”I straightened my back. “It’s warm.”The weather felt cold right now, but I was still sweating. He didn’t look at me. He was watching the dark liquid circle in his glass like it was more interesting than me. “Strange,” he murmured. “It’s always cold in this house.”I stayed silent. Anything I said would be wrong.Any small movement could lead to dire consequences. I was sitting on a time bomb that was just about to go off. “Sit,” he said, gesturing to the armchair across from him.My legs didn’t want to obey, but they did. I lowered myself slowly, carefully, every movement rehearsed in my mind a dozen times before I acted it out. Like prey pretending it wasn’t seen.I could still feel the gun at the back of my head and I knew any form of
_Amelie’s POV_I didn't realize how quiet the world could get until the car stopped in front of my father’s estate. The engine shut off and the driver waited patiently for me to leave. The silence that followed was so absolute, it felt like the world itself had taken a deep breath and was waiting to see if I would survive this return. I highly doubted the chances of that.I couldn’t move at first, my hands were clenched in my lap and my fingernails bit into my palms, drawing out blood. The driver didn’t say anything, he just occasionally stared at me through the rearview mirror.After taking in a deep breath, I pushed the door open and walked out. Even though I had a few days to prepare myself. Even when I gave myself a whole load of prep talks on the plane as I made my way here, my hands still shook in fear.You can do this Amelie. What’s the worst he could do? I wish I hadn’t asked that. The iron door closed shut behind me, startling me. There is no turning back now. The man
_Amelie’s POV_Luca wanted to punish me. That much was obvious.But he didn't do it the way Matteo did. He didn't do it the way Nico did. He did it his way. And it was ruthless. I was surprised when a maid came with a message for me, Luca wanted to see me in his office. And I thought he wanted to finally hear me out, maybe if I explained he would listen. But little did I know of his true intentions.I stood at the door of his office, unsure whether I was expected to sit or kneel or disappear altogether. I didn't mind disappearing from the face of the earth right now.Luca didn’t look up at first—just kept writing something in a small black notebook. His pen scratched softly against the page, the only sound in the room. That, and the heavy weight of my breath.What was I to do now? He had called me into his office and now he was ignoring me? I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, waiting patiently for him to speak. “Close the door.”His voice was calm. Detached.I did