Semua Bab The Mafia's Nanny : Bab 171 - Bab 180

172Alaric’s POVThe park was quiet except for the rhythmic crunch of leaves beneath our feet. The night wrapped around us, the cool air bristling against my skin as I walked beside her. Emilia. She’d said it moments ago—I love you—and the words had settled into my chest like stones in a still lake, rippling outward and disrupting everything I thought I understood.She walked a step ahead of me, her arms crossed as though bracing against the cold, or perhaps my sudden silence. Her confession had come so unexpectedly, it had left me reeling. I wasn’t a man who dealt in emotions; control was my currency. But this woman? She unraveled me in ways I didn’t have the words for.“You’re thinking too hard again,” she teased gently. “I can almost hear the wheels turning in your head.”I smirked, the heaviness in my chest lifting slightly. “Maybe I’m just trying to figure out how you can be so patient with me. I’m not exactly easy.”She tilted her head, pretending to consider. “Oh, you’re not. D

174Emilia’s POVThe van’s interior smelled like sweat and stale cigarettes, an oppressive mix that churned my stomach. My hands, bound tightly behind me with rough rope, ached, and the gag they’d stuffed into my mouth earlier left my lips dry and cracked. They had removed it after they transferred me from the SUV into a van decided I was “safe enough” to keep quiet. Safe. I almost laughed at the absurdity of it.I shifted against the hard metal floor, the cold seeping through my clothes, and tried to steady my breath. My heart hammered in my chest, loud enough that I thought they might hear it over the growl of the engine. The men sat in the front seats, talking low enough that I could only catch snippets of their conversation. Fear bubbled up in my throat as I found my voice.“Please,” I said, my voice trembling. “Please, let me go. You’ve made a mistake—I’m no one important. You don’t need me.”The man in the passenger seat, a wiry guy with greasy hair who reeked of tobacco, glance

176Emilia’s POVThe room was dark, and the air reeked of mildew and stale sweat. My entire body ached, and every movement sent sharp stabs of pain rippling through me. My cheek still throbbed where that bastard had hit me, and the coppery taste of blood lingered on my tongue. I didn’t dare try to stand; the last time I did, I’d nearly passed out from the dizziness.Instead, I stayed curled up in the corner, my knees pulled to my chest, trying to make myself as small as possible. The dirty concrete floor was unforgiving, but at least it was cool against my feverish skin.Voices filtered in from outside the room, low and muffled. I strained to hear, desperate for any scrap of information that might make sense of this nightmare.“Alonso won’t like this.”The name cut through the haze of my exhaustion. Alonso. Cruz. The don of their syndicate. The one who has had scores to settle with the Castillo family for as long as he could breathe. The one who Alaric hated more than anything else. T

178Emilia’s POVThe world around me felt like it had dissolved into static. My body moved because Alonso’s men pulled me forward, their grips firm but not cruel. I stumbled over my own feet, too stunned to resist, too dazed to speak.The blood-streaked room was now behind us, but its horrors stayed lodged in my mind: the gunshots, the bodies, Alonso’s fury. And then there was the name. Alessandra. My name. According to him.“This way,” one of the men grunted, guiding me toward a sleek black SUV parked just outside the warehouse.I yanked my arm out of his grasp, finding a shred of my voice through the haze of confusion and fear. “Don’t touch me!”He raised his hands in surrender, glancing at Alonso, who stood a few feet away, watching me. “It’s for your safety,” the man muttered, stepping back.“Safety?” I snapped, my voice trembling. “You just killed three people in front of me. How the hell is this safe?”Alonso approached then, his expression unreadable. His tailored suit, still i

180Emilia’s POVThe heavy, ornate doors of Alonso Cruz’s villa loomed ahead as I marched toward them, every step fueled by a mix of defiance and desperation. My chest heaved, not from exertion, but from the rage simmering beneath my skin. Alonso’s words still rang in my ears: “You’re not going anywhere, Emilia. This is your home now.” Home? The absurdity of it made me want to scream.I wasn’t staying here.“Open the door!” I yelled, my voice reverberating through the marble hall. Two guards exchanged a look but didn’t budge.“Let me out!” My fists pounded against the wood, the sound echoing like a gavel in a courtroom. The verdict was clear: I was trapped.When it became apparent they weren’t going to comply, I turned, pacing like a caged animal. My thoughts spiraled. How could I have let this happen? One moment, I was enduring hell in a dank hideout, and the next, Alonso Cruz was calling me his daughter and dragging me into a gilded prison.My real father.A bitter laugh bubbled up,