Chapter 3: A Month Gone

**Elena's POV**

I opened my eyes and bright light hit me hard, so intense it made my eyes water and my head throb, and for a moment I just lay there, blinking, trying to remember how to breathe.

A machine kept beeping steadily and sharply next to me, filling the silence.

For a moment, I believed I was still inside the car, the sound of metal screeching, glass shattering in my ears, gunshots, the car spinning, and everything turning dark — my mind kept replaying the scene, unable to forget.

Panic rushed through me and I gasped for air.

“Elena?”

I forced my eyes open again, everything swimming in and out of focus, and I had to blink several times before the room stopped spinning.

“Elena, hey…” The voice broke.

I tried to turn my head toward the voice, but even that small movement sent pain shooting through my shoulder and down my side, making me grit my teeth.

Elario was there, right by my bed, and just seeing him made my chest tighten. He looked terrible, hair standing up, eyes red and swollen, as if he hadn’t slept in ages.

I blinked at him, and he just froze, staring at me like he couldn’t believe it, then he got up so fast his chair crashed to the floor behind him.

“Jesus Christ, you’re awake,” he exclaimed, grasping my hand and pressing it to his lips. “You’re really awake.”

My mouth was dry, and when I finally spoke, my voice sounded weak and strange. “What happened?” I whispered. “Where… where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital,” he said softly, gently running his thumb over my wrist, a gesture that felt both calming and protective. “You’ve been here for a while.”

“How long?” I asked, anxiety seeping into my voice.

He hesitated, and his gaze fell to the floor. My heart sank as he spoke. "A month. You were in a coma for a month, Elena."

I stared at him, sure I misheard. "A month?"

He nodded. "A lot happened while you were asleep. We’ll talk about it when you feel better."

I attempted to push myself up, but a sharp pain shot through my shoulder, causing me to fall back, gasping for breath. "No," I whispered, shaking my head. "That can’t be right. It just happened, the crash, the..." I couldn’t complete my sentence.

Everything started to sink in.

“Where’s Papa?” I asked as a wave of concern washed over me.

“He’s outside with the doctors,” Elario said. “He hasn’t left since the night it happened.”

Of course, he hadn’t left. That was just like him.

Then the hospital door opened, and my father stepped into the room, his movements hesitant.

My father, Armando Castellano, looked nothing like himself. His suit was wrinkled, the gray in his hair more pronounced than usual, and the dark circles under his eyes made him appear older and worn out. He just stood there, staring at me, then his face hardened, and something twisted in my chest.

“Papa,” 

He crossed the room quickly, taking my hand in his, his voice cracked. “Cara mia, I thought I lost you.”

My throat burned, but this time it was from trying not to cry. "I’m here," I managed, voice barely audible.

His voice trembled, "You should never have left the house that night. You know the dangers. You know who we are," his words were heavy with the unspoken truth about our family's secrets.

“I just needed some air,” I whispered, unable to admit I was running away.

"Air?" His tone sharpened, filled with pent-up anger and fear. "Your mother wanted air too, and it got her killed."

“Papa…” Elario stepped forward. “Not now.”

The room fell silent.

My father glanced at Elario with concern in his eyes, then turned to look at me. After a brief pause, he simply nodded, "Rest, Cara. You're safe now," he said, gently placing his hand on my shoulder.

He let go of me and turned away, moving slowly, like he was carrying something heavy on his shoulders, and headed for the door.

“Wait,” I called out, my voice barely above a whisper. “There’s something you need to know.”

He paused with his hand on the door handle.

“I received a text,” the memories flooding back, “right before the crash.”

His body went rigid. “What text?”

I looked down, my fingers curled around the blanket. It read, 'An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.' Then I looked up. "It was them, wasn't it? The Lorusso clan."

The silence grew tense and suffocating as they exchanged a glance. My father's lips pressed together, and he looked away, but fear flickered in his eyes 

"Tell me the truth," I urged, my voice trembling. The room was filled with tension, and with every second, the suspense made it hard to breathe.

Elario sighed, rubbing his neck. "We think it was Raffaele Lorusso," he said. "He's been after us since Father’s men stopped his shipment and burned his warehouse. I guess…you were the warning."

My father reached out and gently brushed my hair back, his hand trembling. “You won’t be hurt again, I will ensure that.”

Then he walked out.

The door closed behind him, leaving the scent of his cologne and a silence that weighed on my chest, while Elario stayed with me until I fell asleep again.

The next morning, I woke up to soft voices outside my door. I heard Lucia’s warm laugh, a sound that always felt like home. 

A moment later, she entered, her face beaming with a smile.

Lucia was my best friend, the one person I could actually talk to about anything, and she’d been with Elario for two years now, long enough to feel like family.

“Lena, you’re finally awake!” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “I was beginning to think you enjoyed all this attention.”

I tried to smile, but it felt shaky. "Guess I needed a break," I said, even though it sounded like a bad joke.

She sat on the bed next to me and gently smoothed my hair. “You scared us all,” she said quietly. “You scared him the most.”

Elario leaned against the wall, fiddling with his phone, but when I looked at him, he just sighed and put it down.

“She’s right. You had everyone losing their minds.”

Lucia smiled at him, her face softening. She walked over, leaned in close, and whispered something in his ear that made him chuckle. He grabbed her wrist and gently tugged her closer.

“Babe,” she whispered, glancing at me. “We’re in a hospital.”

“So?” he murmured, kissing her forehead. “You said I should relax.”

She playfully hit his arm, but her smile remained bright. “You only listen when it suits you.”

​“I listen when it comes from you,” he said, gazing at her with warmth in his eyes.

I looked away, giving them their moment, but I couldn’t help noticing the way he looked at her, like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

I wondered what it felt like to be loved that way, to have someone look at you with all the love in the world in their eyes.

Lucia moved closer to me, her cheeks flushed. "He hardly slept at all," she said. "Wouldn’t eat anything, just sat here waiting."

Elario grunted from the corner. “Don’t make me sound pathetic.”

“You are pathetic,” she teased, smiling at him.

He didn’t argue. His eyes softened as he looked at me, “Don’t do that again.” 

Two weeks later, the doctor finally said I could go home, but nothing felt real. Everything looked the same, but it all felt off.

Back at home, there were more guards than before, and it felt as if I couldn’t take a step without someone watching me.

I barely had time to catch my breath before my father called me into his office, his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Sit down,” he instructed gently.

Elario was already there, leaning against his desk, his expression tense.

My father’s face was tight with worry, but his voice was calm, too calm, which made me feel uneasy.

The clock ticked in the background, every second loudly echoing in the quiet room, heightening the tension.

He stared at me for what felt like forever, his eyes lingering on the bruises on my face, and the stitches on my shoulder.

“You were attacked because of me.”

“I know,” I whispered, letting my eyes drop to the floor, as I felt the weight of his words.

“That’s why I’ve made a decision.”

“What kind of decision?” I asked, anxiety creeping into my voice.

"I have made arrangements for your safety. You won't be left unprotected again."

My stomach clenched. "Arrangements? What does that even mean?"

He nodded, his eyes searched mine, and I gripped the arm of the chair so hard my knuckles went white, bracing for whatever was coming.

‘’You are getting married.’’

My heart skipped a beat hearing those words. I couldn’t breathe properly; it felt like something was pressing down on my chest.

I stared at him, my throat tight, voice barely working. "You can’t be freaking serious, Papa."

"I am," he replied softly. "This alliance is the only way to keep you safe.”

“I don’t want protection,” I cried, my voice cracking with raw desperation. "I just want my life back."

His eyes softened, but his voice remained firm. "You mean everything to me Elena, and I would do anything to protect you."

My eyes stung, and everything went blurry.

‘’You can’t just decide that for me. I don’t even know who you want me to marry. Who the hell is it?’’

Elario, looking troubled, spoke up. "Papa, maybe we should consider this more before deciding..."

My father said firmly, "There's no need for further discussions. The decision has already been made."

My hands shook, and I dug my fingers into the chair, trying to keep it together. "Who am I supposed to marry?" I asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"You will marry Stefano Bernardo," he said, meeting my gaze.

The name sent a shiver down my spine. I had heard rumors about him — ruthless, cold, the kind of man people whispered about when they thought no one was listening. A man known for being merciless.

Right then, the door creaked open, I turned around, my heart pounding, as the footsteps came closer.

That's when I first saw him…