Masuk“7 Million Dollars and 28 cents.” That was what I saw written on the blood stained papers I picked up from the ruins of my father’s burnt down restaurant. His arrest, our debts it all came crashing down on me in one night. Desperate, I ran to my fiancé for help… only to find him sliding a ring onto another woman’s finger. My heart shattered into pieces. From then on, I was nothing but a beggar ,broken, humiliated, and alone. Until one night changed everything. I opened my eyes to find myself tangled in dark silk sheets… in the bed of the most feared mafia lord on the continent. My ex’s future father-in-law. Ruthless. Dangerous. And for reasons I couldn’t understand he had claimed me.
Lihat lebih banyakChapter One
Elena’s POV “$7,654,274.68.” “Dollars or cents?” I whispered, my brows folding as my eyes scanned the faded paper glued to the blackened doorframe. The smell of smoke clung to the air. Ash floated like dying snowflakes around me. My chest rose and fell so fast it felt like I was choking. “No… no, no, no,” I muttered, stumbling back. The restaurant that once smelled of fresh garlic bread and roasted chicken was now nothing but burnt wood, broken glass, and gray dust. I staggered forward, my hand trembling as I touched the charred door. The paper crinkled under my fingers. That number stared back at me in bold black ink. Underneath, a bank account was scribbled, messy and cruel. My voice cracked. “Papiiiiii!” The sound tore out of me like a wounded bird. I shouted again, louder, until my throat burned. “Papiiii! Where are you?” Tears streamed down my face. I tried to push through the rubble, but smoke bit my eyes, and my body shook all over. My lips quivered so badly I could barely breathe. A woman with a scarf tied around her head stopped and grabbed my wrist. “Child, stop. He’s not inside.” “What do you mean?!” I gasped, my voice wild. “Where’s my father? Where is he?” Her eyes softened. “They arrested him last night. Men in black suits. Said something about debts.” My knees buckled, and I pressed my palms into the ashes. “Arrested? No… no, that’s not true.” “I’m sorry, dear,” she whispered. “Your father… he fought. But they dragged him away. And then …” Her voice faltered, “… they lit the place on fire.” I clutched the paper from the door and yanked it off with shaking hands. My nails tore against the wood, drawing blood, but I didn’t care. I ran. My legs carried me through the streets, past cars honking and people staring. Dust clung to my hair, my skirt slapped against my knees, my lungs screamed. Still, I didn’t stop. By the time I reached the police station, my feet were raw and bleeding, my chest heaving. I slammed against the iron gate. “Open this gate! Open it now!” I screamed. The officers inside turned their heads. One came forward slowly. “What’s the matter, miss?” “What have you done to my father?” I cried, my voice cracking. “Where is Papi? What have you done to him?” The officer’s face softened at the sight of my tears. “Calm down, young lady. Who is your father?” “Carlos Nakuru,” I said, choking on the words. “He owns the little restaurant by the old cathedral. The one you burnt down!” “We didn’t burn it,” the officer said quietly. “That was no police action.” My chest clenched. “Then who?” Before he could answer, a voice rose from behind the bars. “It’s okay, Elena.” My head snapped around. There he was my father standing behind the iron mesh. His hands cuffed, his face bruised, but his eyes… those gentle, tired eyes… fixed on me. “Papi!” I rushed to him, grabbing the bars, pressing my face between the gaps. “What’s wrong? Why are you here? Why did they burn the restaurant?” He swallowed hard. His lips trembled. For a moment, he just stared at me. Then, finally, his voice broke. “I am sorry, Elena. I took a loan… a private loan. To pay for your school. To make sure you had the best.” My heart stopped. “Loan? What loan? Papi, you told me I had a scholarship. You said the university gave me one because you worked part-time in their cafeteria!” He closed his eyes, tears slipping down his cheeks. “I lied. I didn’t want you to feel guilty. Your mother wanted you to be a nurse. She died bringing you into this world. That restaurant… It was her memory. But I couldn’t let poverty stop your future. So, I borrowed. I thought I could pay it back. But business slowed. The new coffee chains took our customers. The interest… it grew, Elena. It grew into a monster.” My whole body shook with rage and sorrow. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you hide this from me?” “Because I am your father,” he whispered. “It is my duty to carry the burden, not yours.” I banged the bars with my fists. “And now what? They arrest you? They burn the only thing we had? Papi, that place was Mama’s memory! Every brick, every tile it was all her!” He turned his face away, his shoulders trembling. “I failed her. And I failed you.” “No, Papi,” I sobbed. “You didn’t fail. You tried. You gave me everything. You gave me love. But now… now I will fight for you.” The officer cleared his throat. “Visiting hours are over.” “No!” I screamed, clinging to the bars as they pulled me back. “Don’t touch me! I’m not leaving him here!” My father raised his chained hands. “Go, Elena. Be strong. Do what you must.” “I’ll get you out!” I cried, tears flooding my vision. “I swear, I’ll get you out, Papi. Even if it kills me!” I stumbled out of the station, clutching the cursed paper against my chest. The number blurred through my tears. My body felt like glass fragile, breaking, but somehow still moving. I stood on the sidewalk, staring at the world like it had tilted sideways. My breath came in short gasps. Then one thought pierced the haze. Luka. My fiancé. My perfect, wealthy, well-connected Luka. He had promised me the world, promised me safety, promised me forever. “Yes,” I whispered to myself. “Luka will help. He has to help.” I raised my hand, and a yellow cab screeched to a stop. I climbed in, slamming the door. “Where to?” the driver asked. “Downtown,” I said, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. “The silver mansion. Just drive.” The car pulled into the night. The city lights flickered across my face. My heart beat like a drum in my chest. “Hold on, Papi,” I whispered. “I’ll save you. Even if I have to kneel before the devil himself.”Chapter 221: Forever in the Quiet Valerio’s POVThe villa on the Amalfi coast had been Elena’s idea. She found it during one of those late-night scrolls through real-estate listings she thought I never noticed, a white stone house perched on a cliff above the sea, terraced gardens tumbling down to a private cove, rooms filled with light and old tile floors that stayed cool even in August. She showed me the photos one evening while Sofia was at a friend’s house for the night, her voice soft but certain when she said she wanted a place that was only ours, somewhere the world could not reach. I kissed her then, slow and deep, and told her to buy it the next morning. She did. We signed the papers in a sunlit office in Positano, then drove up the winding road to see it for the first time together.That first summer we spent there felt like stealing time from fate itself. Sofia was fifteen, all long limbs and sharp opinions, spending most days on the beach below the house with friends she
Chapter 220: The Endless Flame Valerio’s POVTime softened the edges of everything except the way Elena and I still looked at each other. Sofia turned ten that summer, tall for her age, all long legs and quick laughter, her dark curls bouncing when she ran across the lawn with the dogs trailing behind her. She had started asking questions about the world beyond the compound gates, about school friends she met during the few carefully arranged playdates, about why her grandmother’s stories always ended with someone leaving and never coming back. Elena answered with gentle honesty, never hiding the scars but never letting them define the day. I watched them from the terrace, coffee in hand, feeling the weight of years settle into something warm and permanent.Elena had taken over the clinic completely now. She hired two more nurses, expanded the hours, started a small program for expectant mothers who could not afford care. She came home smelling of antiseptic and fresh bread from the
Chapter 219: The Endless Flame Valerio’s POVTime softened the edges of everything except the way Elena and I still looked at each other. Sofia turned ten that summer, tall for her age, all long legs and quick laughter, her dark curls bouncing when she ran across the lawn with the dogs trailing behind her. She had started asking questions about the world beyond the compound gates, about school friends she met during the few carefully arranged playdates, about why her grandmother’s stories always ended with someone leaving and never coming back. Elena answered with gentle honesty, never hiding the scars but never letting them define the day. I watched them from the terrace, coffee in hand, feeling the weight of years settle into something warm and permanent.Elena had taken over the clinic completely now. She hired two more nurses, expanded the hours, started a small program for expectant mothers who could not afford care. She came home smelling of antiseptic and fresh bread from the
Chapter 218: Legacy of Light Valerio’s POVYears passed with the quiet certainty of seasons folding into one another, each one leaving its mark on the house, on us, on the life we had fought so hard to claim. Sofia grew into a girl with Elena’s storm-gray eyes and my stubborn jaw, her laughter ringing through the halls like music that never tired of playing. She chased butterflies in the garden, climbed the low branches of the old olive tree, and asked endless questions about everything from why the sky turned pink at sunset to why her grandmother sometimes stared into the distance with a look that made Elena’s hand tighten around mine. We answered as truthfully as we could, never hiding the past but never letting it cast long shadows over the present.Elena’s clinic in the village had become a small cornerstone of the community. She worked there four mornings a week now, delivering babies, stitching wounds, listening to old women talk about aches that had no cure but time and kindne
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