Alexa's POVMaria somehow managed to get me a taxi later that night and slip the driver some money. I was shaking the whole way, clutching the crumpled paper with the address Don Antonio had given me months ago. It was the only place I could think to go.When we pulled up to the gate, my heart was pounding, not just from the fear of facing my godfather after a long time, but from something else entirely. What would I say? What would he say?Then, the security system announced my name. And a few seconds later, the gates swung open.I saw him first, running out of the villa like a madman. He was still wearing hospital clothes, his arm in a sling. He looked pale, and there were dark circles under his eyes, but his gaze… his gaze was fixed on me.He reached the taxi door in seconds, pulling it open. "Alexa!" he roared, his voice rough with emotion.And then I saw him fully. The man I loved, the man who had been shot, whose businesses were burning, all because of me.I froze. A hundred fee
Don Antonio's POVWe were driving, heading towards the city. I was going over the plans for Bavarish Industries in my head, feeling a grim satisfaction. This was how we'd hit Donald, how we'd get his attention, and maybe, just maybe, find Alexa. Xavier was quiet in the passenger seat, tapping on his phone.Suddenly, he stopped tapping. He looked up, and his face went completely white. The color just drained right out of it. He looked like he’d seen a ghost."Xavier? What is it?" I asked, a cold dread twisting in my stomach. Something about the way he looked, that sudden fear in his eyes, told me it was bad. It was about Alexa. I knew it.He slowly turned the phone so I could see the screen. It was a news website. The headline was in a language I didn't recognize, but there was a picture. A picture of a wrecked car, smashed into some trees on the side of a road. And even though it was blurry, I knew that car. It was Claire's.My heart seized in my chest. "What happened?" I demanded, my
Alexa’s POVThe days in the hospital started to blur together again, but this time it wasn't just the darkness of the basement. It was a heavy, gray feeling inside me. I didn't want to talk to the doctors or the other nurses much. I just wanted to lie there and let the guilt wash over me.But Maria, the nurse who had told me about Claire, she was different. She was always kind, always gentle. She'd come in and just sit with me sometimes, not saying anything, just being there.One afternoon, she came in and the sun was shining through the window. "Alexa," she said softly, "how about we try to get you out of this bed for a little while? Just a short walk. Some fresh air might help clear your head."I didn't really want to, but she looked so kind, and honestly, lying there wasn't making me feel any better. So, slowly, carefully, with Maria helping me, I managed to get out of bed and onto crutches. My leg still hurt a lot, but just being upright felt a little different.We went slowly dow
Alexa’s POVI woke up slowly, and for a few seconds, I didn't know where I was. My head was pounding, and everything felt fuzzy. There was a weird smell in the air, like metal and something sweet.Then it all came back in a rush. Claire's angry face, the speeding car, the feeling of losing control, the loud crash…My eyes fluttered open, and I saw that I was still in the car. Everything was sideways. The windshield was cracked, and the airbags had gone off, all puffy and white. My chest felt tight, and my head throbbed with every tiny movement.I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through my leg. I groaned and fell back against the seat. My hands were still tied together with the zip ties, digging into my wrists.Looking around, I could see we had crashed into some trees. The car was all smashed up. I didn't see Claire or the security guy. Maybe they had gotten out? Or maybe…A wave of tiredness washed over me. Not just sleepy tired, but a deep, bone-weary kind of tired. Tired of
Don Antonio’s POVThe moment those words left Xavier's mouth – Alexa. Killing her. – something inside me just snapped. It was like a switch flipped, and all the anger I had for Donald, all the frustration of being stuck in this damn bed, it all just focused on Xavier.Before I even knew what I was doing, my hand shot out. It wasn't my good shoulder, but it still had enough force behind it to connect with his face. A solid, dirty slap right across his cheek.His head snapped to the side, and for a second, he just stood there, looking stunned. His usual calm was completely gone, replaced by a look of shock and maybe even a little hurt."Don't you ever," I said, my voice low and dangerous, shaking with a fury that went deeper than anything I'd felt for Donald. "Don't you ever suggest anything like that again."Xavier finally looked at me, his hand slowly coming up to touch his reddening cheek. "I'm so sorry sir, I just…""Just what?" I cut him off, leaning forward in the bed, ignoring th
Alexa’s POVThe basement was cold and damp, and it smelled like dirt and something else… something musty. The only light came from that one bare bulb hanging up top, and even that felt weak and far away. They hadn't even given me a blanket. Just left me there, tied up on the hard concrete floor.The first day, I mostly just yelled. Yelled for my dad, yelled for Sarah, yelled for anyone who might hear me. My throat got all scratchy and sore, but nobody came. After a while, I just felt tired. So tired.My wrists were killing me from the zip ties. I tried to wiggle free, but they were too tight. My stomach kept growling. I hadn't had anything to eat or drink since Sarah and I left her apartment. Time started to feel weird. One long stretch of dark and cold.I kept thinking about Sarah. She saw what happened. She saw them drag me away. Surely, she knew something was wrong. She knew I wouldn't just disappear. Please, Sarah, I kept thinking. Please figure it out. Please call someone. Call t
Alexa’s POVAfter seeing that news article about Don Antonio, something just snapped in me. All that worry and feeling helpless just turned into pure anger. My dad had to be behind it somehow. Cutting me off, maybe even… maybe even more. I had to know. I had to face him.Sarah didn't want me to go. She kept saying I needed to calm down, that barging into his mansion wouldn't solve anything. She even offered to drive me herself in her beat-up old car, probably thinking her being there would somehow make things less crazy.But I wasn't listening. My head was just filled with this buzzing anger, this need to confront my father. Every mile Sarah drove felt like it was taking too long. I kept fidgeting in the passenger seat, my hands clenched."Alexa, please," Sarah said, her voice gentle but firm. "Just take a breath. What are you even going to say to him?""I'm going to ask him if he had anything to do with Don Antonio getting shot," I said, my voice tight. "And if he knows anything abou
Don Antonio’s POVTrying to find some damn peace in this sterile room was proving impossible. My shoulder throbbed a constant, dull rhythm, a reminder of Donald’s treachery. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the gnawing anxiety about my businesses. The warehouse fire had been a brutal blow, a violation. And now, seeing Xavier’s grim face as he walked in, I knew the universe, or rather Donald, wasn’t done with me yet.“Lay it on me, Xavier,” I said, the weariness in my voice probably more evident than I intended. “What fresh hell has decided to pay me a visit?”He stood by the edge of the bed, his usual composure ruffled. He ran a hand through his hair, a rare sign of his own agitation. “It’s the textile factory, Antonio. The one just outside Palermo.”My breath hitched. The textile factory. That wasn't some small operation. That was a cornerstone of my income, employed hundreds of people. “What about it?” I asked, a cold premonition settling in my gut.Xavier’s gaze was di
Alexa’s POVSarah’s small apartment had become an unexpected sanctuary. Her presence was a quiet comfort, a stark contrast to the storm raging within me. After a fitful night on her sofa, I woke to the smell of strong coffee and the gentle clinking of dishes.She offered me a tentative smile as I joined her in her tiny kitchen. "Morning," she said softly. "How are you feeling?""Numb," I admitted, the raw edges of the previous day still too tender to touch.She nodded understandingly. "I was thinking," she began, stirring her coffee thoughtfully, "about what you said last night. About wanting to start something new."The idea, first planted by my mother, felt distant now, a forgotten seed in barren soil. "It's impossible, Sarah," I said, the discouragement heavy in my voice. "I have no money. My father made sure of that.""But you have the talent, Alexa," Sarah countered, her gaze earnest. "You were brilliant at Bavarish Industries. You know the business inside and out. You could do i