MasukAnna froze, her fork hovering halfway to her mouth. Slowly, she lowered it back to her plate, the soft clink sounding far too loud in the sudden quiet. Every eye at the table turned toward her.Her eyes flicked around the table, landing on their expectant faces. Everyone was waiting—expecting her to say something. Anna’s thoughts spun wildly. She didn’t know what to say, knowing that telling the truth would only make Isabella ask questions she couldn’t bear to answer, yet she couldn’t bring herself to lie. “We met at…” she began, but her words faltered.“At where?” Isabella prompted gently. Anna swallowed. “We met at—”“We met at a restaurant,” Vincenzo cut in.Anna turned to him and caught a wide smile on his lips as their gazes locked.“Isn’t that right, mi amore?” he added, raising an eyebrow.“Yes,” Anna breathed out, too quickly. “Yes, that’s right.”“The minute I set eyes on Anna that day, I couldn’t look away. From that moment, I knew she was the one for me,” Vincenzo conti
Vincenzo’s words sent a chill down Anna’s spine, knocking the air from her lungs. Slowly, he pulled back, his dark eyes locking onto hers for a long, cold second, ensuring she felt every warning behind his words.Then he turned and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him. A moment later, the sound of running water filled the room.Anna remained rooted in place, the ghost of Vincenzo’s whisper still chilling her skin.Gathering herself, she closed the bedroom door and sank onto the edge of the bed.Vincenzo’s words echoed relentlessly in her mind, repeating over and over, leaving a hollow ache in her chest.Deep down, she knew he was right.She did not belong here.In a year, she would disappear from their lives, as if she had never existed at all.There was no point in getting close with them.By the time Vincenzo stepped out, Anna didn’t even notice; her gaze was fixed on the floor.The bathroom door clicked shut behind him, and a thin stream of steam drifted
“Mi amore?”The words hung in the air between Anna and Vincenzo.She stared at him, her mind going blank for a second. She didn’t know Italian, but she understood what those words meant, probably from watching too many Italian movies and hearing it spoken in soft, intimate moments meant for lovers.But why did Vincenzo call her that?Her pulse quickened, unease crawling up her spine as she searched his face for answers. Vincenzo stood there as he always did, composed and unruffled, his expression carefully arranged into something almost gentle.Too gentle.“Anna?” he called, his voice still wrapped in that fake, warm tone, as if nothing about the moment was strange, as if the word had not slipped out loaded with meaning.Anna swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, unsure whether to respond or what responding might invite.“Anna?” Vincenzo called again, his voice calm but sharp, pulling her out of her spiraling thoughts.She blinked, snapping out of her daze.“Yes. Yes, I insisted on co
Camilla’s words made Anna freeze at the top of the stairs. She slowly turned, her eyes drifting downward, while passing maids halted mid-step, their gazes drawn to the tense scene below. Vincenzo’s jaw tightened. He spun toward Camilla, closing the distance between them in swift strides. “V—answer me,” Camilla said. “Don’t tell me it’s tru—” Vincenzo’s hand shot out, gripping her chin, fingers digging into soft flesh as the words died in her throat. “Shut your fucking mouth,” Vincenzo snarled, his gaze drilling into Camilla like he wanted to pierce her soul. “I’m done tolerating your bullshit.” His voice dropped low, a controlled roar that echoed off the high ceiling. “Anna is not a maid. And whether I fuck her or not is none of your fucking business.” Camilla stared at him, panting, eyes wide with fear and fury. She had so much to say, but dared not speak, not wanting to anger him any further. “This is your last warning, Camilla,” Vincenzo said, each word striking like a ha
Anna turned and headed for the café door, never looking back. The tall guard stepped forward, holding the door open as she stepped outside before falling in step behind her. Monica stood at the café table frozen, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her shopping bag lay forgotten at her feet, as she pressed both hands against her pregnant stomach. ~~~~ The car ride back to the mansion was a blur of grey streets and swirling thoughts. Anna sat in the backseat, Monica’s words clanging in her head like loose rocks in a tin can. How could James, the same man she thought couldn’t hurt a fly, the man who brought her coffee in bed, treated her like a princess, and proposed to her on her twenty-fourth birthday in the very park where they’d had their first picnic and promised her forever, also be the same man involved in illegal business, even selling human organs? Cheating on her with Monica for a whole year was one thing, but she had never expected him to be capable of somethin
“Anna, it’s—not—” Monica started, her voice trembling as her heart raced with guilt.“Wow. You are truly something else, Monica… a fucking desperate whore,” Anna cut her off, anger and disbelief lacing her words.“I didn’t mean to! James deceived me. He… he forced me,” Monica stammered.Anna leaned forward, her voice a harsh whisper. “Forced you? Did he force you to sleep with him? Because that’s not what it looked like that night. You were on top of him, riding his cock, pleasure all over your face, moaning his name like you didn’t have a care in the world.”Monica’s face flushed a deep red. She averted her eyes, staring blankly out the window, saying nothing.Another heavy silence hung between them, thick with tension.Anna took deep breaths, trying to control her anger.“You know… you could have had any man in the world, and yet you chose my fiancé,” she said, breaking the silence.Monica turned slowly to her, her face tense, eyes flicking nervously.“Anna… I’m sorry for hurting y







