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Sofia's heart pounded in her chest as the rain pelted against the windows, matching the rhythm of her mother's sobs.
She could hear her mother's footsteps pacing back and forth in the living room, waiting for her husband to come home. Then, suddenly, the sound of a car pulling up to the house cut through the storm.
"Mama, he's here!" Sofia whispered, barely audible over the sound of the rain.
She watched as her mother rushed to the door, wiping away her tears and plastering on a fake smile.
"Welcome home, dear," her mother said, her voice shaking.
Sofia's father strode into the house, a beautiful woman in his arms. Sofia recoiled at the sight of her father's mistress, but her mother put on a brave face.
"Who is this?" her mother asked, trying to keep her tone light. "Is everything alright?"
"Everything is fine," her father sneered, pushing her away. "Can't a man have a little fun?"
Sophia knew this just wasn't right although she was just a teenager!
Her mom's fingers trembled as she stood straighter, her voice gaining a strength. “How could you?” she choked out. “You bring her into our home and expect me to—to just—”
Her father didn’t even look at her mom. Instead, he shrugged off his coat, tossing it onto the sofa like this was any other night.
Sophia was scary. Her mom lunged forward, yanking his arm. “I’m your wife! Don’t I deserve an explanation? Don’t I deserve—”
Crack.
The sound of his palm striking her cheek sent me reeling backward. Her mom staggered, her hand flying to her face where an angry red mark bloomed.
Her father's face twisted with rage. "You're always so worried about me," he spat. "It's pathetic. I hate that you even think about me. You don't deserve me. Get out of my way."
"Please, honey, don't do this to me," her mother begged, grabbing her husband's arm.
"Don't touch me," her father yelled.
Sofia's mother flinched at her father's words, tears streaming down her face again. Sofia watched as her father raised his hand to strike her mother. She wanted to scream, to tell him to stop, but she was frozen with fear.
Her father didn't stop. Instead, he kicked his wife's stomach so hard she fell to the ground crying and clutching her stomach.
Sofia retreated to the staircase, her heart breaking with every sob. She clutched her stuffed animal tightly, hoping and praying that her father would leave soon and they would be safe again. After a while, her father stopped throwing punches and kicks after spitting on her mother.
Sofia peeked through the railing of the staircase, her eyes wide with fear as she watched her mother sobbing on the floor. Her father, towering over her, yelled insults and accusations at her.
"How dare you question me?" he bellowed. "You know I can do whatever I want. You're lucky I even bother to come back here."
Sofia's mother could not speak but whimpered in pain.
Her father kicked her mother while she was still on the ground, causing her to scream out in pain. Sofia covered her mouth to stifle her sobs.
"You're nothing but a worthless piece of trash," her father spat at her mother. "And this brat," he gestured towards Sofia, "is just a reminder of how much I hate you."
Sofia's mother tried to shield her from her husband's wrath, but he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up to her feet. Sofia watched in horror as he continued to beat her mother mercilessly, her cries echoing through the empty house.
"No, please stop," Sofia whispered to herself, tears streaming down her face.
But her father didn't stop until he had vented all of his rage and anger. As he finally left for his room with his beautiful mistress, Sofia's mother lay on the ground, bruised and broken. Sofia rushed to her mother's side, holding her tightly when the room was locked upstairs.
"Mama, are you okay?" Sofia asked with pain.
"I'm okay, baby," her mother said weakly. "Don't worry about me. Just go to bed now."
"Mama, you also come with me to my room. Dad has locked your room, so where will you sleep?" Sofia asked with teary eyes.
Her mother nodded, still trembling with fear and sadness. Mother and daughter made their way to Sofia's bedroom when they heard the woman moaning Sofia's father's name. Her mother cried, covering her mouth. Sofia was eleven years old, but she understood everything that was happening in this house. They slowly went to Sofia's room. Sofia made her mother lie on the bed.
Her mother moaned as her whole body was aching with unbearable pain after getting a merciless beating.
"Mama, I'm here," Sofia said as she sat beside her mother, holding her hand. "I'll never leave you. I promise."
Her mother looked at her with tears in her eyes, her face still swollen from the beating.
"I know you won't, baby," she said weakly, her voice trembling with vulnerability. "You're the only good thing in my life," she whispered, the weight of her words heavy with a mixture of despair and affection.
“Why do you suffer Dad’s beatings and endure him bringing that woman home?!” Sofia's innocent question pierced the tense air, her confusion and concern evident in her furrowed brow.
“He's a rich man, Sofia, and rich men have insatiable needs,” her mother responded, her voice strained with both resignation and hidden anguish. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, mirroring the turmoil within her. “He feels entitled to vent his anger on me and seeks solace in other women.”
“But you didn't have to endure it, Mom. Why don't you leave him?” Sofia's voice trembled.
“I can't, darling. I have no one to turn to,” her mother confessed, her voice cracking with the weight of her truth. “I came from a poor family, and I feel trapped. I'm bound by circumstances to endure this life, and... and I still love him,” she admitted, her lips trembling with a sense of helplessness.
Sofia’s heart filled with unknown fear.
Her father's cruelty had scarred her deeply and it would take a long time for her to heal.
"Don't worry, mom," Sofia said softly. "I'll take care of you always. And I'll never marry a rich man. Rich people are heartless and demons."
Her mother smiled weakly, her hand stroking Sofia's hair. "You're such a good girl, Sofia. But you have to marry one day just like Every girl has to marry. A prince will come to marry you on a white horse. He will make you happy and love you forever."
"No, Mom, I will never marry, and I will never leave you. Men don't love. they only beat and treat women as slaves," Sofia cried as she hugged her mother tightly.
"Sofia, my child! I love you and will always be with you," her mother whispered in her dull voice.
After a few months, her mother passed away. However, she had died inside long ago due to her husband's cruelty and betrayal. People thought she died from some illness, but Sofia knew it was murder, even though she had no proof to accuse anyone.
Sofia was left alone in this cruel world, and her problems increased when her father remarried just a few days after her mother's death. Her father's beautiful mistress was now her stepmother. She hated Sofia even more.
She brought her daughter Kat with her. Her father loved his new wife's daughter more. Sofia's position in her own house was now not better than a housemaid.
Sofia would cry at night, gazing at the stars in the dark sky, believing her mother was watching over her.
"Mom, why did you leave me? How can I live without you? Why didn't you take me with you?" she whispered, standing near the window and looking into the night with her wet eyes.
Silence. The stars didn't answer.
margin-left:0.0000pt;mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto;mso-pagination:widow-orphan;text-align:justify;text-justify:inter-ideograph;">But she knew one thing: Men were monsters. And she would never to get married.Cristiano’s jaw clenched. Lillian shouldn’t have said it aloud. And hell—she shouldn’t have known it at all. His father had crossed the line this time. The Vitelli family never involved the women in famiglia matters. But it was now clear that Vittorio had confided everything to Lillian.However, that wasn’t the problem Cristiano feared. He would deal with his father and his mistress later, yes, he refused to consider her his father’s second wife. Right now, his worry was his mother, who was staring at him as if she had just seen a ghost.“What… what is she talking about, Cris?”Cristiano took a deep breath before turning to his mother. “Mother, let’s go inside. I’ll tell you everything.” Then he glared at his father, who was now avoiding his eyes like a man caught red-handed.“No. Tell me now,” Soraya demanded firmly, though her voice trembled with fear. “Was she talking about Siena? Why would they want to kill her?”“Mother!” Cristiano sighed, closing his eyes. “It’s famiglia busines
But Cristiano’s attention snapped toward the commotion echoing from downstairs. A shrill cry. Raised voices. Chaos.He frowned and descended the steps, his expression darkening when he reached the hall.Lillian was there—collapsed on the couch, trembling, crying uncontrollably. Vittorio sat beside her, trying to calm her, while Soraya hovered stiffly in the corner, her face pale.“Calm down, Lily,” Vittorio said in a low, exhausted tone. “Gino is stable. I’ve brought in the best doctors from around the world. He’ll recover. He’ll be perfectly fine soon.”But Lillian jerked her head up, eyes burning with tears and fury.“I want justice for Gino,” she cried. “What was his fault, huh? That he’s your son?” Her voice cracked before rising again—sharper, harsher. “Or was it his fault that your asshole son couldn’t stand the fact that you loved Gino—and us—more than that trash you call your family?”Her gaze sliced toward Soraya, filled with rage and disgust. The insult was aimed like a
Siena couldn’t speak. Hell, she couldn’t even believe what she was hearing. “No… no, no, no…” She shook her head desperately. “No. That’s not true. You’re lying. You love me—right?” Her voice cracked, her eyes locked on his, begging for a denial.But he said nothing. He just stood there, silent… his face cold, unreadable. And Siena’s heart broke—but still, she refused to believe he didn’t love her.“Why are you doing this?” she whispered. “I’m scared, Cris…” Her anger dissolved, replaced by pure desperation. Fear.“You’re so easy to fool, Siena.” His smirk was dark, cruel. Siena’s eyes instantly filled with tears.“No. This can’t be true,” she choked. “You love me. And I love you. That’s the only truth.”He merely rolled his shoulders back and turned to leave.Panicking, Siena pushed herself off the hospital bed, but her head was still spinning. Her knees buckled—and before she hit the floor, Cristiano’s strong arms caught her and held her upright.She looked up at him and manage
Vittorio’s lip curled in frustration. “You are my blood—that’s why I know you so well,” he snapped. “I knew you weren’t trying to get her pregnant.”Cristiano’s eyes narrowed, irritation flickering across his face. “You spy on my room now?”“I have to know what enters your life and what leaves it,” Vittorio shot back. “The maid told me she found a wrapper in your room.”Cristiano exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “That was a one-time thing. I used it because I wanted to. A man has certain needs.” His tone was so severe, so controlled, it allowed no trace of doubt.“And you know you can still trust me even after I shot Gino?” he continued, “You know why.”Vittorio fell silent. Because he knew the truth.The bullet had struck just below Gino’s heart. If Cristiano had genuinely wanted his half-brother dead, his aim would never have missed. One shot would have gone straight through Gino’s heart without hesitation.“Cristiano, the Famiglia is looking to you,” Vittorio reminded sharply
Cristiano paced the hospital corridor, jaw locked, phone pressed tightly to his ear. The doctor had already examined Siena. The diagnosis was simple—shock, trauma, nothing life-threatening. She would wake up soon. The information eased him only a little; his pulse was still a wild, restless drum in his chest.On the line, Hunter’s voice trembled with panic.“Cris—what the hell were you thinking?! You shot Gino! If the Famiglia finds out, they’ll question everything. They’ll dig into Siena. They’ll dig into you. You could lose the throne—hell, they could execute both of you!”Cristiano rubbed a hand down his face, exhausted and furious.“I don’t give a damn about the Famiglia,” he muttered. “I had no choice. He had a gun on her.”“This is bad,” Hunter whispered. “They’re going to call for a vote… Vittorio will twist it against you—”Footsteps thundered across the hall.Cristiano looked up.His father was striding toward him like a storm—eyes burning, jaw tight with murderous rage.Cr
Gino stopped the car in a deserted place Siena had never seen or even heard of. She stepped out slowly, confusion knotting in her stomach. The area was dim, isolated… far too quiet.“Why are we here?” she asked, looking around. “Cristiano isn’t anywhere. You said you’d show me his reality.”Gino didn’t answer at first. He simply smirked—crooked, wrong, chilling. Something in that smile made Siena’s skin crawl.“You seem to be in a hurry, sister-in-law,” he said slowly, taking a step back, hands slipping into his pockets as if he were enjoying her confusion.Siena frowned, uneasy. Her eyes scanned the warehouse—until the hair on her arms stood up.From the shadows, four men emerged… one from each corner. Broad shoulders. Hard eyes. No warmth. No welcome.Her breath hitched. “Gino…” she whispered, her voice trembling, “what’s going on?”Gino’s smirk widened, sharpening into something cold and cruel. “Oh, Siena,” he murmured—almost pitying, almost amused. “Did you really think you were s







