Daisy’s POV
The sound of my phone vibrating against the nightstand jolted me awake. I reached for it, squinting my eyes at the screen. My stomach dropped when I saw the name flashing across it. Dad. I rejected the call, my heart pounding in my chest. The phone buzzed again almost immediately, and then again. He kept calling, over and over, relentless as always. I let it go to voicemail this time, squeezing my eyes shut as if that would block out the mess my life had become. But then, reality struck. "Oh, no." I sat upright in bed. It was my first day at work, and I was going to be late if I didn't get my ass out of bed. I rushed into the bathroom. The cold water on my face helped, a little, washing away the remnants of last night’s tears. I stared at my reflection, my pale face staring back at me. "Get it together, Daisy. You’ve got this," I whispered to myself. "You've survived worse. You can survive this as well." Fifteen minutes later, I stood in front of the mirror, checking my outfit. I was wearing a white blouse tucked into high-waisted black trousers, paired with nude heels. My outfit was simple and professional enough. I tied my hair into a low ponytail and grabbed my bag. As I stepped into the elevator, my phone buzzed again. This time, it was a text. I didn’t want to open it, but my curiosity got the best of me. Dad: Come back home this minute or I swear I won’t spare you for embarrassing me a second time. I laughed under my breath. Embarrass you? What did he expect? That I'd sit still while he sold me off to God knows who? I scoffed, a bitter smile gracing my lips. "Good luck with that," I muttered, deleting the message without replying. I had other things to worry about. --- I stood in awe, in front of Vincenzo’s company. The glass skyscraper in front of me screamed money, power and intimidation. It was everything Vincenzo was rumoured to embody. I took a deep breath, clutching the strap of my bag for courage, and pushed the doors open. The lobby was a work of art. I approached the reception desk, where a woman with perfectly manicured nails was busy tapping away on her phone. "Hi," I began, trying to sound confident. "I'm Daisy Fontana, the new assistant. Could you direct me to Mr Marino's office?" She glanced up, eyeing me like an insect. "Do you have an appointment?" "I'm his assistant," I repeated, forcing a polite smile. "Assistants don’t look like that." Her eyes scanned my outfit. "You look like you’re here to seduce him, not work for him. I'm sorry but Mr Marino doesn't do bitches." I clenched my jaw. The nerve of this woman. Look here lady, I'm sure your boss already told you I'd be coming in today. I just need to know where his office is. Can you... "Miss Fontana?" The deep voice startled me. I turned to see a tall man approaching. He's handsome. "Yes," I said cautiously. "The boss asked me to come get you." He gestured toward the elevators. Before I could thank him, the receptionist stood, her chair screeching against the floor. "Wait! She doesn’t have an appointment..." It's obvious she has feelings for Vincenzo. But that's not my problem. She wouldn't be a receptionist if he was interested in her. The man cut her off with a cool glance. "You're relieved of your duties. Effective immediately." Her mouth fell open. "You can't be serious..." "The boss doesn’t tolerate incompetence, and delaying his assistant on her first day? That’s unforgivable," he said, his tone ice-cold. "Pack your things." The receptionist’s face turned beet red, but she sat down without another word. "Shall we?" He said, turning to me. I nodded, following him into the elevator. My heart was pounding, not just from the interaction but from the ruthlessness I’d just witnessed. Vincenzo’s reputation wasn’t exaggerated. If anything, it was understated. For a brief moment, doubt crept in. Could I work for a man like him? I shook the thought away. There was no turning back now. This was my only way to get close to Antonio again and make him see me in a new light. --- The elevator opened to reveal a stunning office space with black furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the city skyline. Original artwork adorned the walls, a massive desk, and behind it stood the man himself. "Are you here to admire my office or to work?" The voice sent a shiver down my spine. I turned and there he was, Vincenzo Marino. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in his tailored charcoal suit that made my simple outfit feel like rags. But it wasn’t just his appearance. It's the way he carried himself like he owned not just the room but the very air we breathed. "I... I'm sorry," I stammered, lowering my gaze. "Sit," he ordered, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. I obeyed, my palms sweating. "This is Marco," he said, nodding toward the man who had escorted me. "He'll show you around and brief you on your responsibilities." "Nice to meet you," Marco said, offering me a kind smile. I offered a small smile in return and extended my hand for a handshake. Vincenzo cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the room like a knife. "This isn’t a social gathering. You'll have plenty of time for introductions later." I nodded quickly. "Understood, sir." I pulled my hand back, swallowing hard. "Good. Marco, take her around. I expect her to be up to speed by the time I call for her." Vincenzo said, dismissing us with a curt nod. "Yes, sir," Marco replied, leading me out of the office.“Talk?” he scoffed. His eyes, or rather, his one visible eye, finally met hers, and in them, she saw a profound fear. “I don’t need more trouble, Daisy. I don’t need him showing up again.”That last sentence, those few words, made it click. A horrifying realization dawned on Daisy. Vincenzo’s sudden coldness, the brutal accusations… it all made sense.Daisy’s blood went cold.“You mean Vincenzo… did this to you?” Her voice was barely a whisper.Marco didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. The way his jaw set, the fear in his eyes, they were all the confirmation she needed.She stared at him, suddenly ashamed, a crushing guilt that she was somehow responsible for his suffering. And beneath the shame, she felt a sudden anger at Vincenzo’s cruelty. “I’m so sorry, Marco. I swear I never meant for any of this…” she stammered, her voice filled with genuine remorse.“Go home,” Marco said softly, he wasn’t angry, he just looked completely drained. “I don’t want any more trouble.”And with that, wi
The next day unfolded like a quiet aftermath of a storm. Daisy felt it first in the way Vincenzo's gaze avoided hers, as if she were a ghost. That morning she went into his office to deliver the final reports from the recent hotel tour.“Here are the files you asked for, sir.” She announced, her voice was calm.He didn't even acknowledge her presence. His head remained bent over the papers spread before him. He didn’t look up from his desk, didn’t offer a customary thank you, didn’t even spare her a fleeting glance. It was as if she were invisible.“That will be all,” he said flatly.And just like that, the invisible wall between them grew taller.Daisy walked out slowly, the door shutting softly behind her, but the sound of it echoed in her chest like a slam.It didn’t take long for the whispers to start.Whispers began to trail behind her wherever she went. The mocking glances now lingered, transforming into giggles as she passed by. It wasn't just the awkward silence anymore… it wa
The next evening, Vincenzo and Daisy sat in the back seat of his car. They were en route to the site of his newly commissioned hotel. The building was a magnificent display of modern architecture… tall, elegant, all clean lines of gleaming glass and polished steel.As they arrived at the construction site, a man in a crisp suit walked up briskly. He handed Vincenzo a folder. Vincenzo took it, his long fingers flipping it open with ease, his eyes quickly skimming its contents. A moment later, he shut it with an angry snap.His jaw tightened, a clear sign of displeasure.“What is it?” Daisy asked. “Bad numbers? Trouble with a supplier?”“It’s nothing,” he said flatly.She blinked, surprised by the abrupt dismissal. “Are you sure? I could help. If it’s about the hotel, I’ve been keeping tabs on…”“I said it’s nothing.” His voice cut clean and cold.Then he walked back to his car with Daisy following behind, he opened the door for her. Get in,” he instructed, his voice low and firm. He th
The week that followed Daisy’s request for time off unfolded like a suffocating storm. Every single waking moment of Daisy's existence seemed to be mercilessly swallowed whole by the insatiable demands of her work. Meetings piled upon meetings, each one more urgent than the last, and errands, no matter how trivial, were tossed her way by Vincenzo Marino. It was as if her simple, entirely reasonable request for a brief reprieve had triggered some deeply hidden switch within him.“Mr. Marino,” she finally dared one morning, her voice cautious, nearly drowned out by the rustle of files as she organized his schedule, “about the reunion I mentioned last week…”Vincenzo didn’t even bother to look up. His pen scratched against the pristine white paper. He was absorbed, utterly oblivious to the quiet plea in her voice, or perhaps, simply indifferent.She waited. Every second felt like an eternity, her heart thudding nervously against her ribs. She watched the movements of his hand as he conti
Later that day, Vincenzo stood before Antonio's door. It opened with a soft creak, revealing Sophia, Antonio’s fiancée, clad in a silken robe, her surprise evident.“Oh,” she said, lips twitching into a smile. “Don Marino. What a surprise.”Vincenzo said nothing. He did not engage in pleasantries, nor did he acknowledge her presence.“Would you like to come in?” she asked, stepping aside.“This is my house, you don’t get to invite me into a house I bought with my money.” He said and walked past her. Her eyes rolled the moment his back was turned.“I’ll get Antonio,” she said dryly, going upstairs.Antonio came down moments later, looking genuinely surprised by his father’s unexpected arrival.“Dad?” His voice held a note of confusion.Vincenzo turned slowly to face him. “You’re busy, I see.” He said sarcastically.Antonio glanced toward the hallway. “Just having a quiet evening with my fiancée. Want a drink?”“No.” Vincenzo’s reply was blunt.Antonio’s brow twitched. “Alright…”Vince
Vincenzo sat motionless behind his massive desk, his fingers interlocked in a steeple beneath his chin. His eyes were fixed on Marco as he stepped into the room. The soft closing of the door echoed in the quiet space.“Boss.” Marco greeted him.Vincenzo’s gaze didn’t waver. “Sit.” He ordered.Marco, without hesitation, complied.“Talk.” Vincenzo commanded.Marco’s shoulders shifted slightly. He cleared his throat, his gaze meeting Vincenzo’s with a steady resolve. “I’ve just returned from the port,” Marco began, his voice even and controlled. “The Russians have agreed to a meeting. Leonid, personally.”Vincenzo raised an eyebrow. “He’s finally decided to grow a spine?”Marco allowed himself a half-smile. “Apparently, he received your message.” The implication was clear: the Don’s previous actions had been effective, leaving their intended mark.Vincenzo’s expression, however, remained unbothered. He was a man who rarely showed emotion, a master of self-control.Marco cleared his throa