Alexa's POV
Tears stung at the corners of my eyes as his words reverberated through the large office space, bouncing back to my ears. I couldn't bear the harshness, nor could I bear the man from whom those words were coming. "You're a worthless piece of shit! Just take a look at what you have caused! We lost all those millions because of you!" he screamed. "Dad…" I began. "What is it, Alexa? Are you ready to explain how these documents were signed?" he demanded, flinging the papers at my face. The tears that had stung at the corners of my eyes now clouded them, threatening to spill down my face. "I don't know anything about those papers, Dad. I wasn't the one who signed them." He snorted at my words. "But those are your damn signatures! If you weren't the one who signed them, then who did? Who freaking did?" His eyes burned with fury as he glared back at me. I had to bend my head when I could no longer stand the heat of his gaze. Just then, the office doors opened, and the familiar sounds of heels clicking on the floor announced who had entered. I didn't bother raising my gaze from the floor, knowing it was none other than Elsie, my step sister. Her confident steps told me she was more than excited about the issue I was having with our father. It's not that I was expecting her to be anything else but happy. Elsie hated my guts with everything within her and hadn't hidden it even for one day. "Here are the papers you asked for, Daddy," she said in an excited tone. "Hand them over to your sister," Dad replied to her. She came closer to where I was and gave me the papers. "Take, Alexa." The amusement underlying her tone told me that whatever was in those papers wasn't good for me. My eyes widened as I scanned through the words written on it, "you want me to resign from my position as the CEO?" "That's right," Dad confirmed, "I've lost enough millions all because of you. I need you to sign those papers right now." "But Dad…" I began. "I said now, Alexa! I don't want to hear any more of your silly excuses," he stormed over to where I was and landed a thunderous slap on my cheek, "the damages you have done to the family business are enough!" I held the side of my cheek where the slap had landed and signed the papers with shaky hands. "Good," he scoffed, "This is the only good thing you have done in a long time." I heard Elsie squealing excitedly behind me. I thought she was being the typical Elsie until Dad motioned for her to take a seat. She rushed to my former chair with a speed faster than that of light and relaxed in the chair. "Even though you are the younger one, I believe you are smarter than your sister and will take good care of our family business," Dad told her. "Of course, Daddy! I am way better than my older sister. Don't worry, Daddy, Bavarish brand is in the best hands," she bragged and shot me a mischievous look. I gasped on realizing what just happened. Then I burst into tears the next second, while Elsie burst into laughter hearing my cries. "This is not fair, Dad!" I cried out. "Life is not fair, Alexa," he replied, "Besides, I can't sit still and watch you run down my company to the ground. I put blood, sweat, and tears to get Bavarish to where it is now." "And mind you, those aren't the kind of tears he is talking about," Elsie chimed in with a mocking tone. "You're so smart, my baby," Dad told her. He went further to where she was and kissed her lovingly on the forehead. "See, I told you," Elsie boasted as a reply, "And I am going to make you proud, Daddy." The tears continued flowing. I couldn't control them, nor could I stand the betrayal I was witnessing. My dad seeing me as a dumb blonde, instead of the smart girl he raised me to be, was one of my worst nightmares. And I was seeing it come to pass. The pain felt stronger with each passing second. Running the family business was so important to me. He just broke my heart into a million pieces by taking the one thing I loved doing. Never had I imagined that there would be a day when Dad would compare me to Elsie, my younger stepsister, who I gave a solid five-year gap. To think he just chose her over me. What else would he do? Fire me from the family business and marry me off to some old grumpy billionaire? My broken heart shattered more at that thought. And just when I thought I had had enough heartbreaks and embarrassment for one day, the universe sent another. The door opened while I was still sobbing uncontrollably, and the voice I heard next made me wish that the floor would open and swallow me up. "Donald," he greeted my father. "Don Antonio. You are here," my dad responded. My godfather came into the office with his majestic steps and stood right next to me. He cupped my face and raised my head to look at him. That single touch from him sent shivers running down my spine. When I stared up at him and into his gorgeous gray eyes, it felt like the world stopped rotating. "From the looks of it, I believe you have broken the news to her," he said to my father without taking his eyes off me. "And she isn't taking it well. She has been grumpy ever since," Dad responded to him. "But there is no need to be sad, little Alexa. It's not as if you are leaving the company or anything. You are simply changing positions." He must have noticed my confused frown because he continued, still not breaking eye contact, allowing me to remain mesmerized by them, "Instead of being above every other person, you will now be working under me." My eyes widened at what he just said. No! Hell no!Alexa's POVMy question hung in the stale hospital air, sharp and accusatory: "Is it because she's awake, Dad? Is that why you're finally apologizing? Because she's here to hear it?" The words had pierced through Dad's performative grief, leaving him speechless, a man caught in his own lie, or so I believed. His face was a mask of wounded surprise, tears welling again, but I couldn't discern their true source.My mom who had been quietly absorbing the fragmented reality around her, now turned her gaze fully to Dad. There was no immediate outrage in her eyes, no sudden burst of anger. Just a deep, unsettling stillness, a weary assessment that seemed to see right through him.Dad regaining his voice, although it was still raw with emotion, spoke. He didn't answer my question directly, but his words were meant for Mom, a desperate plea for her understanding, or perhaps, for his own vindication."Babe," he choked out, pushing himself back onto his knees by her bedside. His voice was thick
Alexa's POVThe word "Alexa?" hung in the air, a fragile, impossible gift. It was a sound I hadn't dared to dream of, a voice I thought was lost to me forever. My mother's eyes, though still hazy with the lingering effects of her long illness, were open, and they were looking at me. They knew me.My heart, which had been a lead weight in my chest for so long, suddenly soared. The world tilted, not in a dizzying spin of confusion, but in a sudden, overwhelming rush of pure, unadulterated joy. The bitter taste of revenge, the complex understanding of my father's brokenness, the heavy weight of Don Antonio's war – all of it, for that singular, miraculous moment, vanished into thin air.I moved without thinking, propelled by an instinct stronger than any calculated plan. My father, still frozen in his chair, seemed to fade from my view. I leaned over the bed, gently, so gently, as if she were a delicate bird that might fly away. My arms, trembling with emotion, wrapped around her frail s
Don Antonio's POVThe weak whisper, her calling of Alexa's name, had frozen me mid-step. The raw power of that moment, the impossible miracle of her voice, had sliced through the tension like a knife. Donald, too, had bolted upright, his tear-streaked face etched with disbelief, mirroring my own.My first instinct, honed by decades of ruthless strategy, was to seize the moment. To secure Alexa, to remove her from Donald's presence, to reassert control over the chaotic scene. But as I turned, my eyes locked on Alexa's face. Her expression, a mixture of overwhelming shock and radiant, fragile hope, stopped me cold. Her world, which had been in shattered pieces for so long, had just been given an unimaginable, unexpected gift.This wasn't about strategy now. It was about something far more primal. Her mother is alive and speaking.I knew it was a risky move leaving the trio alone. Leaving Alexa with Donald, especially after his manipulative confession and his current display of what appe
Alexa's POVThe air in the hospital room was thick enough to choke on. Don Antonio remained just inside the door, his eyes locked on my father. Dad, still slumped by my mother's bedside, met Don Antonio's gaze with a mixture of raw pain and a flicker of the old defiance. My mother lay between them, oblivious, her steady breathing the only calm sound in the storm.I was trapped in the middle, a silent spectator to a tension that felt like it could explode at any second. My head spun with the whirlwind of emotions – my own grief for my mother, the shocking revelations from my father, and now the terrifying presence of Don Antonio, who seemed ready to unleash a lifetime of suppressed rage.What was I supposed to do? My carefully constructed purpose, my clear path of vengeance with Don Antonio, had shattered into a million pieces the moment I saw my father's tears, and then even more so as I listened to his broken confession. The lines between right and wrong, hero and villain, had blurre
Alexa's POVThe moment Don Antonio pushed open the door, the air in the hospital room thickened. The heavy silence was replaced by a palpable tension, a clash of forces. My father, still tear-streaked and vulnerable, snapped his head up, his eyes wide with surprise and a flicker of the old defiance, quickly overshadowed by a raw, naked pain. Don Antonio's gaze, usually impenetrable, was a mixture of shock and cold fury as it swept from my father to me, then to my mother's still form.I sat motionless in the armchair, caught between three powerful entities. My mother, oblivious, a silent testament to the wreckage. My father, unexpectedly human in his grief. And Don Antonio, the embodiment of my vengeance, now standing witness to a scene that defied all his rigid calculations.The confrontation I'd initiated last night at the club felt like a distant, childish tantrum compared to the gravity of this moment. My father's tears had already shaken my carefully constructed world, and now Don
Don Antonio's POVI had spent the night in a restless doze, the simulated conversation with Mark J. replaying in my mind. The deception had been well-executed, I was sure of it. Mark would carry the message of my supposed reconsideration straight to Donald, giving him a false sense of security.Yet, despite the satisfaction of the strategic play, Mark's words lingered. He had spoken of our shared history, of decades of friendship, of times when Donald and I were practically brothers. These were echoes from a past I had meticulously buried, images I had fought to erase from my memory.I poured myself a fresh cup of coffee, the rich aroma doing little to dispel the faint chill that had settled in my chest. I sat by the window, gazing out at the sprawling city skyline. I thought about everything Mark J. said. The early days, the forging of our empires, the loyalty, even the times I'd stood by Donald when others turned away. There were moments, fleeting and unwelcome, where a phantom pang