𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗩𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗮 𝗨𝗻𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲.
I never thought my world would crumble at the hands of a man like Alessandro Rossi-a 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 draped in silk suits and ruthlessness. One moment, I was Yasenia Fraga, daughter of the...
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Yasenia didn't try to stop me when I told her I was going after Sabela's husband. She didn't hold me back, didn't try to talk me out of it. No speeches on morality or lectures about restraint. She just... let me go, and that threw me. It wasn't just that she accepted my need for revenge—she actually got it, down to the very reason I needed to do this, even though I hadn't spelled it out for her. But she knew, somehow. That look in her eyes when she told me to go and punish him, wasn't just permission—it was insight, like she understood what I was keeping from everyone else, even her.
Those eyes... Mio Dio. The way she looked at me when she leaned in and kissed my bloodied knuckles, her lips soft against the bruises and her gaze not once straying away from mine. What the hell was she doing to me? Trying to pull me in even further? As if I wasn't already hooked. But it was pointless to resist. She already had me, more than I wanted to admit. Hell, I'd been a goner for her long before I realized it myself.
But fuck, I was fuming. It wasn't anger; that word didn't even cover it. This was deeper, hotter. I was furious and disappointed in her, too, for keeping me in the dark about that photo she'd found in Diego's office. Did she think I needed protection? I didn't need coddling—I wanted the truth, the real, raw, unfiltered truth, no matter how fucking ugly it was.
Because Diego had fucked up my life and my family's for years, and I wanted every last bit of that damage laid bare. I couldn't stop thinking about my mother, crying, telling me over and over that Diego never loved her, never wanted her. I'd grown up knowing he was a man who took his rage out on her, someone who abused her just because he could. But now, with what Yasenia had uncovered, it all made sense in a sick, twisted way. Diego hadn't just been a cruel bastard—he'd been in love with someone else all along. He'd spent his life obsessed with another woman, frustrated because he couldn't have her, and he'd poured all that hatred and jealousy into torturing my mother.
Yasenia's mother. Wife of the Galician mafia Don, Juan Fraga. It was like finally finding the last piece of a puzzle and watching everything snap into place. This explained Diego's obsession with Fraga, his unhinged hatred for Yasenia. Knowing all this changed everything.
Juan Fraga showing up wasn't exactly a shock, it was more like the storm you know is coming but hope never hits. If anything, I was surprised he hadn't stormed in sooner, considering all the hell that had gone down with the Baileys. But knowing Juan Fraga, there had to be a reason for his delay. The man wasn't the type to sit back and twiddle his thumbs while his daughter was in danger.
He didn't waste time on pleasantries. "Where's Diego?" he demanded, his Galician accent rolling off each word like gravel.
I kept my mouth shut. I wasn't about to be baited into a shouting match—it'd be useless and accomplish nothing. The only reason I was even giving this man any respect after he barged into my house the way he did, was because he was Yasenia's father, and whatever my issues with him, I wasn't about to hurt her by going off on him. Besides, Diego was long gone, a ghost in the fucking wind, hiding out in Italy. Miguel was quick to pick up on my simmering rage and answered before I could.
