LOGINShe was never meant to be his Arya Vitale, the daughter of his sworn enemy was supposed to be a bargaining chip A pawn in a blood war. But from the moment Giovanni De-Santis laid eyes on her, he didn’t see a pawn… he saw hi So he took her Stole her from her wedding, forced her into a contract marriage, and branded her with his name in every way that mattered To the world, it was a business strategy to him, it was an obsession. But she isn’t the fragile princess he expected. She’s smart, sharp, hot-headed, sassy, and far too good at making him feel things he buried long ago And when she runs away he hunts her Because Giovanni doesn’t lose Not his empire Not his war And never the woman he’s marked as his own. But some wars can’t be won with bullets. Some secrets refuse to stay buried And the deadliest betrayal may not come from his enemies at all… What happens when the one thing he can’t control is the only thing that could destroy him? And a war that demands blood… even if it’s hers.
View MoreARYA’S POVThree days after Marco gave me the black card, I found myself staring at it on my nightstand, untouched.I had used it once, to pay Mrs. Marta for the month's rent. The landlady had looked at the sleek black card with narrowed eyes but ran it through her ancient machine without comment. When the transaction went through, I felt both relieved and trapped.Since then, the card had sat there, a constant reminder that I was living off someone else's generosity. Cherry had noticed, of course."You know you can use it for food, right?" She said yesterday, watching me count out the spare money he had given me for the cheapest pasta at the market. "That's literally what he gave it to you for."I nodded. "I know.""But you're not going to." She retorted. I looked at her and smiled tightly. "Not unless I have to."She sighed but hadn't pushed. She understood, in her way. The need to maintain some shred of independence, even when accepting help.But independence required income. R
ARYA’S POVThe hostel room felt even smaller when I returned, the walls seeming to press in as I closed the door behind me and leaned against it.The money Marco had given me sat heavy in my pocket. I had no idea what I just did. "There you are!" Cherry burst through the door, she had a key to my room, just like I had one to hers. "I was starting to worry. How did the job hunt go? Any luck?"I moved to the bed and sat down heavily, pulling out the cash. Cherry's eyes widened. "Holy shit. Did you rob someone?""No." I set the money on the bed between us. "I called Marco.""Marco?" Cherry frowned. "Who's Marco?""Someone from... before. From my old life." I wrapped my arms around myself. "He's an old family friend. I called him because I was desperate, and he wants to help.""Help how?" Cherry's tone was immediately suspicious. "Because that's a lot of money, Arya. Nobody just hands over that kind of cash without wanting something in return.”"It's not like that. He just… he wants to
ARYA’S POVHe paused for a moment before responding. “I'll find it. Is thirty minutes too long for you to wait?"I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. "Okay.""Arya?" His voice softened. "I'm so glad you called. I've been so worried."I hung up before I could respond, my heart racing.What was I doing? What if this was a mistake? No. I couldn't spiral. I needed help, and Marco had offered it before. Maybe he could get me a job, or loan me enough money to make rent until I found something stable.******The café was small and quiet, tucked away from the main streets. I ordered a tea I couldn't really afford and sat in the back corner, watching the door.Marco arrived exactly thirty minutes later. I almost didn't recognize him.The last time I'd seen him, he looked slightly disheveled. Now he looked... refined. His suit was expertly tailored, his hair styled perfectly, his shoes probably worth more than everything I owned.He looked like money. Like someone who belonged in my fathe
ARYA’S POVThe knock on my door came at eight in the morning, and I knew who it was before I opened it.Mrs. Marta stood in the hallway, her face was set in the same hard way I’ve been seeing every day for the past week."Arya," she greeted with a huff. "I’ve been patient with you enough. When are you paying?”My chest squeezed uncomfortably . "I know, Mrs. Marta. I'm so sorry.” I nervously licked my lips. “I've been looking for work, and I thought I would have something by now, but-""Everyone has excuses." She cut me off with a wave of her hand. "I run a business, not a charity. You have until the end of the month. That's twelve days. If you can't pay by then, you're out."I gasped, scrambling forward. "Please, I just need a little more time. I promise I'll get you your money.”"End of the month, Miss Russo." She used the fake surname I gave her when I moved in. "No extensions."She left before I could plead further, her footsteps echoing down the narrow hallway.I closed the door a
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