I wear his name like a scar.
Alessandro Rossi stole everything from me; my freedom, my future, the lie I told my father to keep him alive. He thinks I'm a tool to be used, a bride to be displayed, a Fraga to be broken. He thinks the ring on my finge...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The moments dragged like hours, each second stretching unbearably. My wrists burned from the ropes digging into my skin, the constant friction only making it worse. My stomach churned, and the familiar wave of nausea hit me again, sharp and relentless.
Coming here hadn't been my smartest decision-I'd admit that much. I hadn't stopped to think about what would happen if I didn't make it out alive. But isn't that what you do for the people you love? You dive in headfirst, consequences be damned.
And yet, I couldn't bring myself to regret it. Not for a second. I didn't blame myself, or Luca, or even Alessandro. No, there was only one person to blame for this nightmare-Diego, the monster behind it all.
My eyes wandered around the room, taking in the eerie perfection of the old living room we were held in. It was enormous, decorated with antique furniture that, back in its day, was just furniture. The place was spotless, like it had been frozen in time. Not a speck of dust, not a single decoration out of place. Even the landline phone still sat neatly on its table, untouched by years.
But what really stopped me were the pictures above the fireplace. Family photos in frames, showing a life that looked so painfully normal. There was Diego, no mistaking him-the same jet-black hair, the same sharp hazel eyes Alessandro had inherited, the same towering, commanding presence. Beside him was a woman, unearthly beautiful. Serena. Alessandro's mother. She had dark brown curls, glowing skin, and the kind of sweet, innocent eyes that didn't belong anywhere near Diego.
And between them, a little boy. Alessandro. A boy no older than seven, his forced smile tugging painfully at my heart. Even in that picture, it was clear-he was smiling because he had to.
My heart broke for Alessandro, for everything he'd been through. And now, here I was, sitting in the very house where it all happened-where his father destroyed him and his mother ended her own life. Just being here sent a chill through my body.
And now, it was clear. I knew exactly what Diego had planned. He wanted Alessandro here, to watch. To force him to relive every ounce of pain this house held by making him watch Luca and me die in the same place where he'd already lost so much.
Luca was still out cold. I'd tried to wake him, whispering his name, shifting as much as my tied hands allowed, but nothing. I needed him awake, needed his help to figure out how to get out of this before Alessandro showed up. But no matter what I did, he didn't stir, and the guard hovering nearby wasn't about to let me try anything else.
Diego was gone for now, but I knew he wasn't far. Still, his absence gave me a sliver of hope. Maybe this was my chance.
I shifted carefully, nudging Luca's foot as subtly as I could. His body twitched, and then he stirred, groaning as his eyes fluttered open. Relief washed over me like a wave.
His gaze darted around, taking everything in-the ropes, the guard, the house-and then his expression twisted into fury.
"Maledetto bastardo! (You fucking bastard!)" Luca exploded, thrashing against his restraints with every ounce of strength he had left. "Come cazzo osi farle del male? Come cazzo osi toccarla! (How dare you fucking hurt her? How dare you fucking touch her!)"
