جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 119

Alexandra.It took five minutes for the guards to check Thomas for any weapons, but they couldn’t find anything on him. Even after that, they still looked conflicted about letting him come closer to me.“What the hell was that?” he growled as he walked toward me.I tried to be sympathetic and let him see just how sorry I was about all this.“I apologize for this, but they are just doing their job.” As much as I hated the way they went about it, I had to admit they were fulfilling their duty.“Do you know them?” he asked, stopping to rub his wrist as he looked at me.I nodded, causing his scowl to deepen. “When did you start having guards to protect you, Daisy?” he asked, dusting off invisible dirt from his pants.I didn’t answer that, and thankfully, he didn’t push it further.“What are you doing here?” I asked, only to realize how rude my question sounded. This was a public place, and anyone could be around.“I just stepped out to get something when I saw you from afar. At first, I

Alexandra. Everything went quiet for a while as I tried to get myself together. It wasn’t true—that was what I kept telling myself over and over again as his voice rang in my head. He wasn’t alive. It couldn’t be. I had seen him. I had seen the bullet hit him. I watched him bleed on the floor with his eyes closed; he was dead, so there was no way a dead person could be speaking to me right now. It wasn’t possible. He wasn’t the one. Maybe it was just some prankster trying to imitate his voice and trick me. I wasn’t going to fall for it. “It’s me,” his voice came again, but this time I shook my head. Even after so many years, I could still recognize his voice. It sounded more mature and deeper, but it was still him. “You can’t scam me with a dead person’s voice, bastard,” I hissed, once again bringing the phone down, ready to hang up. “It’s really me, Lexi.” I scoffed and furiously wiped the tears from my eyes. I had no idea why I was still crying, even after telling myself t

Alexandra. “Come here, Alex!” The scream coming from downstairs made my whole body shake uncontrollably. I knew something bad was about to happen; I shouldn’t go downstairs, but I had no choice. “Where the hell is that bastard? Get your stupid self down here right now, Alexandra!” The anger in her voice was bubbling, which meant she was about to snap at any second. I quickly ran out of my room and rushed downstairs, but I didn’t go down until I had taken in the sight before me. My aunt—no, Madam Romanov, as she insisted on being called—was standing in the middle of the living room, with Vincenzo beside her. He was crying, and my brows furrowed when I noticed how tense the room was. Ivan sat on the opposite side of the room while my uncle was nowhere to be found. That should have been a good thing; his absence meant I should be happy. But no, that wasn’t the case. As much as I wanted to say having her here was better than my uncle, I knew I was wrong. She wasn’t any different fr

Alexandra. The following morning felt painfully slow; I was down, and nothing seemed to lift my spirits. Adriano tried to cheer me up, but I just wasn't myself. I attempted to smile for his sake, but it was hard, and he seemed to notice. He kindly gave me my space and told me I could take a day to calm down, assuring me he was ready to wait. What a sweet man he is. Sometimes I wonder how I managed to get someone as wonderful as him. He doesn't see himself as perfect, but to me, he is and always will be. I love him so much that even the thought of anything happening to either of us hurts. I know he would be devastated if something happened to me, which is why I agreed to take Marco and Vito with me to meet Ivan. I wanted to bring Adriano, but I didn't want the situation to escalate. I know him too well—he wouldn’t just sit back and watch if anything went wrong. After spending all of yesterday wrestling with whether to call him and tell him I had agreed, I decided to send him a text

Alexandra. I kept my gaze on the table—on the cup in front of me precisely, instead of staring at him. After his dramatic entrance ten minutes ago, I haven’t been able to look at him since tearing up. “Aren’t you going to look at me?” He asked, and I stopped moving my finger on the rim of the cup. Slowly I brought my eyes up and saw him already staring at me. “Aren’t you going to say something? Ask me anything?” He asked again, and I sighed. “What do you want me to ask, Ivan?” “I don’t know, but I have an idea of what you would ask, like what happened to me after I got shot and you left.” I glared at him. He was saying that in a way that stated I left because I didn’t care about him. “You’ve already told me what happened to you on the phone, Ivan. There’s no need for me to ask about it again.” I brought my gaze down when it was becoming just too much for me to handle. Staring at his eyes reminded me of those nights he sneaked into my bedroom with food and little candies. He w