INICIAR SESIÓNElena POVI told Dante I was meeting an old friend for coffee. It wasn't exactly a lie. It just wasn't the whole truth either, and I'd become good enough at that particular kind of honesty that it barely registered as guilt anymore.The café was small, tucked between a dry cleaner and a bookstore a few blocks from campus. I'd spent hours there during finals week years ago, surviving on caffeine and panic, surrounded by anatomy textbooks covered in fluorescent highlighter.Dean was already waiting when I walked in.Two coffees sat on the table.Mine was made exactly the way I'd always ordered it.Oat milk. One pump of vanilla. Extra hot.He remembered. For some reason, that nearly undid me before I'd even sat down."You remembered," I said with a small smile as I slipped into the chair across from him.Dean nudged the cup toward me. "Some things stick."His smile softened as he studied me for a second."How are you?" he asked quietly. "Really."A humorless laugh escaped me. "I don't a
Elena POVI told Dante I was meeting an old friend for coffee. It wasn't exactly a lie. It just wasn't the whole truth either, and I'd become good enough at that particular kind of honesty that it barely registered as guilt anymore.The café was small, tucked between a dry cleaner and a bookstore a few blocks from campus. I'd spent hours there during finals week years ago, surviving on caffeine and panic, surrounded by anatomy textbooks covered in fluorescent highlighter.Dean was already waiting when I walked in.Two coffees sat on the table.Mine was made exactly the way I'd always ordered it.Oat milk. One pump of vanilla. Extra hot.He remembered. For some reason, that nearly undid me before I'd even sat down."You remembered," I said with a small smile as I slipped into the chair across from him.Dean nudged the cup toward me. "Some things stick."His smile softened as he studied me for a second."How are you?" he asked quietly. "Really."A humorless laugh escaped me. "I don't a
Elena POVI told Dante I was meeting an old friend for coffee. It wasn't exactly a lie. It just wasn't the whole truth either, and I'd become good enough at that particular kind of honesty that it barely registered as guilt anymore.The café was small, tucked between a dry cleaner and a bookstore a few blocks from campus. I'd spent hours there during finals week years ago, surviving on caffeine and panic, surrounded by anatomy textbooks covered in fluorescent highlighter.Dean was already waiting when I walked in.Two coffees sat on the table.Mine was made exactly the way I'd always ordered it.Oat milk. One pump of vanilla. Extra hot.He remembered. For some reason, that nearly undid me before I'd even sat down."You remembered," I said with a small smile as I slipped into the chair across from him.Dean nudged the cup toward me. "Some things stick."His smile softened as he studied me for a second."How are you?" he asked quietly. "Really."A humorless laugh escaped me. "I don't a
Elena POV The charity gala had been Dante's idea. After the warehouse fire, the city needed to see the Morettis smiling instead of bleeding. Cameras. Handshakes. Donations. A room full of expensive people pretending nothing ugly ever happened behind closed doors. For once, I wore green instead of black. The dress was softer than anything I usually reached for, and for a few hours I almost let myself enjoy the evening. A string quartet played near the ballroom entrance while waiters drifted through the crowd with champagne. Auction paddles went up every few minutes, followed by polite applause and conversations that sounded effortless. Most of the people here had no idea what any of us actually did once the lights went out. Dante got pulled into a conversation with a city councilman near the bar. I slipped away before anyone else could stop me, weaving through the crowd until I reached the terrace. The cool night air met me the moment I stepped outside. I rested my hands light
Dante POV Elena told me everything Isabella had said at the banquet. I spent the night turning her words over instead of sleeping, replaying every conversation, every look, every move I'd dismissed for the wrong reason. By morning, I knew where I'd gone wrong. I had spent weeks hunting a woman I thought wanted me back. She didn't. Maybe she never had. The woman who'd walked into that banquet wasn't fighting for a marriage or a man. She was campaigning for an empire she'd already decided belonged to her. "She's not trying to hurt me," I said, planting both hands on the map spread across the war room table. My untouched coffee had long since gone cold beside it. "She's trying to replace me. There's a difference, and I've been fighting the wrong war." Luca studied the routes marked in red before lifting his eyes to mine. "So what changes?" "Everything." I tapped the first circle on the map, then another. "These routes. These warehouses. Every man she's convinced the future belon
Elena POV The banquet hall smelled like money trying to disguise itself as tradition, candle wax and old wine and too many roses crammed into too few vases. I stood beside Dante near the entrance, my hand resting lightly on his arm. Within seconds, I felt the weight of the room settle on us. "They're staring," I murmured. Dante didn't even glance around. "They're always staring," he said. "Tonight, they just have more reasons to." Ricci reached us first. His smile was polite enough, but his eyes swept over me with open appraisal, lingering on my dress, my posture, my face, as though he were assessing an investment. "Dante," he said smoothly. "And the lovely Elena. I didn't realize the Board banquet had become the place for personal displays." "Elena isn't a display," Dante replied evenly. "Watch how you speak about her." For the briefest moment, Ricci's smile tightened. Then he inclined his head. "My mistake." He moved on without another word. I let out a slow
I couldn't stop shaking for hours after the attack. Even after the mansion had returned to that fake, heavy calmness, my body just refused to settle. It wasn't just basic fear anymore, it was something deeper, something that felt permanent. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring down at my hands. T
I wandered through the hallways, my heels clicking softly against the marble floors, until I found myself outside the training room.Inside, Luca was moving with controlled precision, his fists pounding a punching bag with a rhythm that was almost hypnotic. The sound reverberated through the room,
"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
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. Th







