FAZER LOGIN
Elena POV
The rain slammed against the thin roof of our little house, a steady drumbeat that matched the panic coiling in my chest. I pressed my palms against the cold window, trying to convince myself it was just the storm outside. But deep down, I already knew this was bigger than the weather. The feeling had been growing for weeks, and tonight it was suffocating. "Elena… we have a problem." My father's voice came from behind me, quiet and shaky. I turned around slowly. He was standing in the doorway holding a crumpled envelope, his hands trembling so badly the paper shook with them. His face looked pale under the yellow light of the old lamp. He wasn’t even trying to hide it this time. My stomach dropped before he said another word. “What’s going on?” I asked. My voice came out smaller than I wanted. He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at me with those sad, guilty eyes. The kind of look that made my chest tighten. “We’ve got a problem, kiddo.” I swallowed hard. “What kind of problem?” He rubbed a hand over his face, the stubble scratching loud in the quiet room. “The debt. I… I thought I could handle it. Thought I had more time. But they’re done waiting.” My heart started beating faster. I already knew what he was talking about. Gambling. Again. After everything he promised when Mom died. After all the nights I sat with him while he cried and swore he’d never touch another card or bet. “How much?” I whispered. He looked away. “A lot. More than we’ve got. Way more.” Before I could say anything else, a loud bang hit the front door. Hard. The whole house seemed to shake with it. "Rossi! Open up!" Dad jumped like someone had shot at him. The envelope fell out of his hands and papers scattered across the floor. I could see red stamps on them from where I stood. Late notices. Warnings. Threats. “Dad…” My voice cracked. Another bang. Even harder this time. The door rattled like it was about to break. “I’m coming!” My father called out, but his voice sounded weak. Scared. He looked at me with this broken expression I’ll never forget. “Stay back, Elena. Please.” But I couldn’t. I followed him as he walked to the door, my bare feet cold on the wooden floor. My hands were shaking. When he opened the door, cold wind and rain rushed inside, and three big men stepped in without waiting to be invited. They filled up our tiny living room instantly. Big coats dripping water everywhere, hard faces, no smiles. The tallest one stepped forward first. He didn’t yell. He didn’t need to. The way he looked at my dad was enough. “You’re late again, Rossi.” My father put his hands up a little. “Please… just give me a few more weeks. I’ve got something lined up, I swear—” The man cut him off with a short laugh. “You’ve been saying that for months. The boss is finished with your excuses.” His eyes moved past my dad and landed straight on me. He looked me up and down slow, like he was checking out a piece of furniture. I took a step back until my back hit the wall. “She’s pretty. Young. Looks healthy.” “No,” I said, my voice shaking. “Dad, tell them no.” But my dad just stood there, shoulders slumped, like all the fight had already gone out of him. “You said there was another way,” he whispered. “You told me there was another way to settle this.” The tallest man nodded once. “There is. We’ll take the girl.” The words hit me like a punch to the chest. For a second I couldn’t even breathe. “No!” I shouted. “You can’t just take me! This is crazy!” I tried to run to the kitchen, but two of the men moved fast. One grabbed my arm, twisting it behind my back. The other caught me around the waist when I tried to kick him. “Dad! Help me!” I screamed. My father lunged forward, but the third man shoved him hard against the wall. Dad hit it with a sick thud and slid down, tears already running down his face. “Elena… I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I’m so fucking sorry. I never wanted this. I love you, baby. Please forgive me…” I was fighting like hell, kicking and twisting and screaming. My elbow connected with one of the men’s ribs and he grunted, but it didn’t loosen his grip. They were too strong. Too used to this. “Stop struggling,” one of them growled in my ear. “It’s done.” Tears were pouring down my face now. I kept looking at my dad on the floor, reaching out like he could somehow stop this. But he couldn’t. We both knew it. “Dad! Don’t let them take me! Please!” He was crying harder now, still on the floor. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” They guided me toward the door. My father tried to speak, tried to fight, but the men silenced him with a look. . The rain poured harder as we stepped outside. The night was cold, the wind biting, but I barely felt it. All I could feel was the terror and the humiliation of being dragged from my home like I was nothing more than a possession. My life had changed in a single moment, and there was no turning back. My father's eyes lingered on me, full of helplessness. He opened his mouth, tried to say something, but the words caught in his throat. I wanted to run to him, to scream that I would be okay, but I knew deep down that nothing could make this okay. The men led me away from the house, their steps steady, calm, professional. I stumbled once, and a hand gripped my arm. I flinched, but they didn't release me. The message was clear: resistance was useless. The moment I realized it, I felt a hollow emptiness settle in my chest. My life was no longer my own. I had no control. No one to protect me. How could he do this to me? How could my own father gamble away my life like this? Memories flooded through the panic. Mom’s gentle smile and the way she fought cancer with everything she had until the end. She died when I was fourteen, slow and painful. After that, Dad completely fell apart. The gambling became worse and worse. He kept saying one big win would fix everything. I believed him. I covered for him. I worked extra shifts until my feet ached and my eyes burned. I stayed up dreaming of a normal future, of finally being able to breathe. I had sacrificed so much for him. And this was how he repaid me. Tears mixed with the rain on my face as the men pulled me further into the darkness. I looked back one last time at our little house, the only home I had ever known. It was already fading. And just like that, my fate was sealed. I would not be returning home tonight. I would not see my father again. Perhaps… ever.Dante POV By six that evening, I had Isabella’s known properties spread across the war room table, along with a map marking each location. I’d spent the drive back from the warehouse deciding what to do about the article, and my mind hadn’t changed. “Three locations,” I said, tapping the map. “The textile warehouse, the storage facility on the south docks, and the apartment she’s been using near the harbor. I want all three hit tonight.” Luca stood opposite me, his arms crossed. “What exactly do you mean by hit?” “I want her operation dismantled. Whatever she’s keeping in those buildings, whatever she’s using them for, I want it gone.” "You're talking about burning three buildings to the ground over a newspaper article." "I'm talking about making sure she understands there's a cost to what she did." I kept my voice level, though the effort it took was beginning to irritate me. "She put Elena's name in every outlet in t
Elena POV Rina from the kitchen found me first. She rarely came looking for me, so I knew something was wrong before she even spoke. “You need to see this.” She held out her phone. I took it. The headline loaded before I'd even finished reaching for a chair. THE FIVE MILLION DOLLAR BRIDE: INSIDE THE MORETTI AUCTION SCANDAL I sat down and read the article, forcing myself to take in every detail before reacting. It wasn't vague gossip. The amount, the room, and the events of that night were all described with a precision no outsider should have had access to. "Who wrote this," I asked, turning to Rina. "I don't know. It's everywhere already. Three outlets by this morning, Miss Elena." Something in my chest went cold. The phone felt heavier in my hands than it had a second ago. I looked back at the screen. Whoever had written it knew far too much to have relied on rumours alone. Either they'd been in that room or someone with direct access to the details had given them
Isabella POV Konstantin knocked once and came in without waiting for an answer. "You didn't sleep." "I didn't need to. I needed to think." "About the banquet," he said. I looked up at him. "How do you already know about the banquet?" “You've been in this room since four in the morning. I didn't need a report. I just needed to see your face.” He crossed the room and took the chair across from my desk. "Tell me." “She took me apart. Calmly. Without raising her voice once.” I said it as plainly as I would report a loss on a balance sheet. “I've had Board members twice her age who couldn't manage that.” “So she's good.” Konstantin leaned back in his chair. “She’s better than good.” I stood and crossed to the window. “She's starting to believe it, which is worse. A frightened girl makes mistakes. A confident one doesn't. I built my entire approach around the assumption that she was still the first kind.” “You could stop approaching her altogether,” Konstantin said.
Dante POV The office at the east warehouse smelled like diesel and cold coffee, which was about right for how the week had been going. The Board's clock was running in the background of everything I did now. A dead article was still circulating that I couldn't unprint, and now a shipment discrepancy had taken three men most of the afternoon to untangle. I had come down personally because the numbers hadn't made sense on paper, and numbers that don't make sense usually mean someone's been helping themselves to more than their cut. I was going through the ledgers when Luca knocked. "Gomez is here," he said. "Send him in." He walked in a minute later with two men behind him. Luca took his place by the door. I stayed behind the desk. "Dante." Gomez spread his hands like we were old friends. "Thanks for making time." "You're twelve minutes late." I nodded toward the chair across from me. "I don't like people wasting my time. Sit." He sat, leaving his men standing behind him. "I'
Elena POV I thought we were done for the night. I should have known better. The party had started to thin, the kind of late hour where the real conversations were already over and everyone left was just finishing drinks they didn't need. I found Dante by the terrace doors, deep in something with Adrian that looked more like posturing than actual business, and caught his eye long enough to mouth that I needed a minute. He nodded, distracted, already turning back to whatever Adrian was saying. I headed for the coat check alone, grateful for a reason to leave the noise behind for a few minutes. My feet hurt, and honestly, so did my face from holding the same composed expression for three hours straight. I wanted my coat, the car, and twenty minutes of silence before I had to be anyone's queen again tonight. Isabella found me halfway to the coat check. "Walking away doesn't win you the room," she said, falling into step beside me. "I wasn't trying to win a room. I was tr
Elena POV The gathering was supposed to be a show of unity. Dante's idea, another public appearance to prove the family wasn't splitting down the middle the way everyone suspected. I wore navy, something quiet, and stayed near the back while men twice my age traded handshakes and called it conversation. "You're cataloging the exits again," Dante said, appearing beside me with two glasses. He handed me one. "Old habit," I said. "A useful one." He glanced around the room. "This should be easy tonight. No vote, no clock running in the background. Just people pretending to like each other over appetizers." "You say that like it isn't exhausting." "It is exhausting," he admitted. "But it's the kind where nobody's trying to kill us. I'll take it." I almost believed him. I got about twenty minutes before the noise near the door changed. Isabella stopped a few steps inside the entrance, and she didn't look around for anyone. Within seconds, conversations near the front started dying d
The room felt suffocating as I followed Dante out of the auction hall. Every step I took made my chest tighten, every echo of my heels against the floor reminded me constantly that I had no real choice anymore. My mind was a mess of questions, panic, and a deep, heavy fear. Why me? Why him of all pe
The room fell into an almost unbearable silence after my name was announced. Every eye turned toward me at once, and I could feel the weight of their attention pressing down like something physical. The lights above me felt hotter now, the air thicker. My chest tightened, my palms were slick with sw
The room smelled faintly of expensive perfume and polished leather, a mix that should have felt luxurious but only made my stomach twist tighter. My heels clicked painfully against the marble floor, each step echoing in the vast, high-ceilinged room. I tried to keep my head down, to disappear into m
"No! I won't go!" I shouted, my voice cracking. My hands flailed as I tried to push the men back, but their grips were iron. Fear surged through me like fire, every instinct screaming to run, to fight, to disappear. "Elena… please! Listen to me!" my father's voice broke through the storm in my che







