BOUND BY FAITH

THE HAUNTING LEGACY

Five years later...

The Gazzi estate was as magnificent as it was suffocating, each corner echoing the legacy of blood and power. Valenteno stood by the tall, arched windows overlooking the gardens, his hands clasped behind his back in a posture of control, but inside, he was a storm. His gaze tracked Emiliya as she ran through the garden, her laughter innocent, unaware of the dark truth that shaped her existence.

The bright sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled light on her curls—curls that were the exact same shade as Abby's. Every day, her resemblance to her real mother grew more and more striking, and it gnawed at him, haunting his every waking thought.

His wife, Alesia, walked into the room behind him. Her soft footsteps were the only sound breaking the tense silence. Alesia was everything his father had wanted in a bride for Valenteno—elegant, poised, and completely devoted to the family's image. She was the kind of woman who could bear the weight of the Gazzi name, and she had. Their son, Marcus Gazzi, sat on her hip, his small hand gripping her shoulder as he looked up at his father with the same intensity Valenteno once had as a boy.

Alesia approached, gently placing her free hand on Valenteno's arm. "She's playing again," she remarked softly, her eyes following Emiliya as she ran through the garden, oblivious to the turmoil surrounding her.

Valenteno didn't respond at first, his jaw tightening. The sight of Emiliya stirred something deep within him—something he couldn't name. It wasn't love. It couldn't be, not when her very existence was a reminder of what he had done. Abby's face flashed in his mind, the memory of her final moments, the pleading in her eyes as he had taken everything from her. The memory twisted in his gut like a knife.

"Valenteno, talk to me," Alesia pressed, sensing the distance that had grown between them over the years. "You can't keep doing this. Not to me, not to her."

He finally turned to face her, his expression hard, as if carved from stone. "Doing what?"

"Shutting everyone out," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked up at him with a mixture of sadness and understanding. "I know you still think about her. I know that every time you see Emiliya, you see Abby. But Valenteno, she's gone. You need to let her go."

His eyes darkened at the mention of Abby's name, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. Let her go? How could he, when every day he lived with the consequences of his actions? He had wanted revenge, and he had taken it in the most brutal way possible, but in doing so, he had chained himself to a ghost.

Alesia sighed, shifting Marcus slightly as the boy rested his head against her shoulder. "Emiliya loves you, Valenteno. She's your daughter, and she doesn't understand why her father barely looks at her."

Valenteno's gaze flicked back to the window, watching as Emiliya twirled in the garden, chasing butterflies. There was a lightness to her that Abby had once possessed—before he had extinguished it.

"I'm not her father," Valenteno said coldly, his voice like ice. "I'm the man who killed her mother."

Alesia's breath caught, and she gripped his arm tighter. "You are her father. You can't keep punishing yourself for what happened. Abby—"

"Don't say her name," Valenteno snapped, his voice laced with venom as he yanked his arm away from Alesia's grasp. The mention of Abby was enough to send a wave of fury crashing through him. He didn't want to hear her name. He didn't want to be reminded of her, yet every day, Emiliya's presence was a reminder of the woman he had loved—and destroyed.

Alesia's eyes softened with pity, a look that only infuriated him further. "You can't keep living like this, Valenteno. For the sake of our family."

Valenteno turned on her, his eyes burning with barely contained rage. "Our family?" His lips twisted into a bitter smirk. "Do you really think this is a family, Alesia? You know what this is. You know why we're here."

Alesia's shoulders sagged under the weight of his words, but she didn't back down. "I married you because I wanted to make this work. I chose to love Emiliya as my own because she deserves a mother who cares about her, not someone who's haunted by the past. She doesn't know, Valenteno. She doesn't know about Abby, and if you keep your distance from her, she'll never understand why."

Valenteno's eyes flickered with something unrecognizable—something he quickly buried beneath the layers of his cold, emotionless facade. Emiliya didn't know. She believed Alesia was her mother, the only mother she had ever known. And that should have been enough. But it wasn't.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't look at Emiliya without seeing Abby's ghost staring back at him. Abby's laugh, Abby's smile, Abby's fierce defiance—all of it was alive in their daughter. And it cut him deeper than any wound ever could.

"She'll find out one day," Valenteno said quietly, almost to himself. "And when she does, she'll hate me."

Alesia stepped closer, her voice gentle but firm. "She won't, not if you show her the love she deserves now. She's your daughter, Valenteno, whether you want to admit it or not. You need to stop punishing yourself."

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, pushing back the tidal wave of emotions threatening to break free. Alesia didn't understand. She couldn't. He had married her because it was necessary, because it was what his father had demanded of him. But Abby... Abby had been different. She had been the one thing in his life he had allowed himself to care about, and in the end, he had destroyed her.

Valenteno's eyes snapped open as Emiliya's laughter echoed through the window. She was running toward the fountain, her arms outstretched like wings as if she were trying to fly.

He couldn't love her. Not the way a father should. Because every time he looked at her, he was reminded of the blood on his hands.

"I'll never be free of her," Valenteno whispered, more to himself than to Alesia.

Alesia placed a gentle hand on his chest, looking up at him with sad, understanding eyes. "No, you won't. But you can choose to be there for Emiliya. You can choose to give her the father she needs."

Valenteno's gaze flicked to Alesia, and for a moment, something inside him cracked. He had always been able to control his emotions, to bury them deep beneath his icy exterior, but standing here, with the weight of his past pressing down on him, he felt something stir. Something he didn't want to feel.

"I'll try," he said, his voice low and filled with a quiet resolve.

Alesia gave him a small smile, a flicker of hope in her eyes. "That's all I ask."

As she turned to leave, Valenteno stayed by the window, watching as Emiliya twirled and danced among the flowers, her laughter echoing through the garden like a distant memory of a time long lost.

He would try. But deep down, he knew that the ghost of Abby would never let him go.