تسجيل الدخولElena Marchetti gave Damian Cross everything—her loyalty, her family's company, five years of her life—and he repaid her with a signed divorce and his mistress on his arm before the ink even dried. Humiliated and penniless, Elena vanished from the world that discarded her. Three years later, she returns as the reclusive owner of Lysandra Holdings, the very firm quietly buying up Cross Industries' crumbling debt. No one connects the ruthless businesswoman in the boardroom to the broken wife Damian once threw away. Damian barely recognizes her—until he does. And by then, it's far too late. His empire is unraveling, his family is begging for mercy, and Elena holds every card. Every calculated move is a debt collected, every icy smile a wound she's finally allowed to inflict. But revenge has a cruel side effect: it drags every old feeling back to the surface. Damian is desperate to win back the woman he never deserved, and Elena is furious to discover her heart never actually left him. She swore he'd regret losing her. She never planned on wanting him back too.
عرض المزيد"Play it again.""Elena, I've heard it.""Play the Thursday."David reached over and dragged the marker back.The file came to me on the Thursday. It came to me before the police had finished with the car."Stop." Elena put her finger on the table. "Now tell me what a claim file is.""You know what a claim file is.""Tell me anyway."David sighed. "It's the insurer's assessment. Damage, liability, payout figure.""And you can't write a payout figure until you know the liability.""No.""And you can't know the liability until somebody's looked at the car.""No.""So on the Thursday morning," Elena said, "before anyone had finished looking at that car, a complete file with a figure on it arrived on Piero Faranda's desk."David didn't say anything."Say it, David.""It doesn't prove anybody killed her.""I know it doesn't.""It doesn't prove there was another vehicle, it doesn't prove interference, it doesn't prove one single thing a court would look at.""I know all of that." Her voice
"Say it, then.""I don't want you back."Elena's face did something small and she turned it towards the windscreen."That's not what I mean.""Then say what you mean.""Back is the flat on Sardi and the two of us not talking about your father." Damian's hands stayed on the wheel with the engine off. "Back is me arranging things at you until you stop asking for any of them. I don't want back.""Then what?""Sunday."She looked at him."I want you to come on a Sunday. Not this one, he's asked me and that's his. Another one." His jaw moved. "And then I want to ask you again the week after, and I want you to be able to say no without it meaning anything, and I want to keep asking.""That's it.""That's it.""You gave away a controlling share in eleven seconds and you're frightened of asking me to a bus stop.""Yes," Damian said.Elena sat with it."I'm not going to answer you tonight.""I didn't ask you to.""I'm going to think about it for a week, and I might come back with something you
"Say it again for the record," the chair said."I'm not taking it.""Mr Vale, with the twenty percent you hold a controlling position. Without it you don't.""I know what I hold.""You've spent five months proving that share is yours.""I proved it was never his," Damian said. "That's a different thing."David read it into the minutes in a flat voice, and every word of it took something away from the man standing at the end of the table.Luca sat through all of it with his hands between his knees, understanding none of it."What's happening?" he said, when the room started moving. "David. What just happened?""Do you want it in the legal words or the real ones?""The real ones."David turned his chair round."He's just given you ten percent of Marchetti Group," he said. "You can't sell it for fifteen years. When the company pays out, you get a tenth of it, whether you turn up to a meeting or not, and nobody in this building can take it off you, including him."Luca looked at him."Tha
"There's a bench," she said."I know where the bench is.""Then walk to it, Marco. I'm not standing at a gate at my age."He came through and neither of them said anything about the fact that he'd come through.They sat down. He put his hat on his knee."I'm not going to explain myself," he said."I know. That's why I let you in.""I've had thirty years to put it into an order that sounds better and it doesn't get better.""No.""If I start, you'll listen, because you were always polite. And then we'll both have to sit through it.""So don't start."He turned the hat around by the brim."What would you like me to say?""Something ordinary," she said. "Anything ordinary. I've had nothing ordinary since 1994."He looked at her."Do you still take sugar?""Two.""You took two before.""I take two now. What else."He thought about it."I had a dog," he said. "For eleven years. A grey thing, bad-tempered, he'd only sit with me.""What was his name?""Nico.""Is he dead?""Six years ago.""


















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