**Stefano's POV**

I pulled the collar of my coat up tight against the biting cold as I stepped outside the house. Winter had arrived in full force, and the night air stung my face.

I took a long drag from my cigarette, letting the smoke fill my lungs, but it did nothing to ease the tension in my chest.

Headlights suddenly flashed through the darkness. A car with a shattered windshield skidded to a halt in front of me. Two of my men jumped out, their faces pale and eyes darting around nervously as if they were searching for an escape.

John dropped to his knees, trembling so hard I thought he might collapse. “Boss… please… We messed up. We didn't mean for this to happen. It just…” His words were rushing out. 

I didn't move. I just let the cigarette burn down between my fingers while I took in their panic.

"Spit it out! What are you actually talking about?”

Enzo stepped forward, breathless and anxious. “It… It was the job with the girl. Everything was going as planned until she…” He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. “She pulled a gun and started shooting at us.”

My jaw clenched so tightly it hurt, and I could feel anger bubbling up inside me. "Go on," I said, not trusting myself to say more.

"We panicked," he stammered, his voice cracking. "So we shot back, just to scare her, I swear. She swerved, and then..." He swallowed, his eyes wide. "We hit her tire, and the car went out of control. We didn't mean it, boss, we didn't." His face twisted, as if he were about to cry.

I took a step closer, locking eyes with him. “Is she alive?”

Neither man spoke. They only exchanged fearful glances.

I reached for my gun, the sound of it being cocked cutting through the silence. “I'll ask one more time. Is she alive?”

John's voice shook with fear. “Boss… I don’t know. We panicked after the crash and left the scene. We came straight back here to report to you…”

I didn't hesitate; the decision was instant. I pulled the trigger. John fell without another word.

"No! Please, boss! Please…” Enzo cried out, dropping to his knees, shaking violently. “It was an accident!” 

I stepped forward and crouched in front of him, looking him directly in the eyes. He was trembling with terror.

"I trusted you with a simple task,” I whispered, my voice dangerously calm. “You were only supposed to damage her car enough to send a clear message to Armando Castellano. Enough to make him afraid. Did I ever give you orders to touch the girl?”

"No, boss,” Enzo sobbed, tears streaming down his face. “Please… it was a mistake, boss. Show mercy. I beg you.”

"Mercy?” I said quietly, rising to my full height. “Mercy is reserved for those who follow orders without question.”

I turned to Luca, my most trusted man, who had been watching everything in silence. “Take him to the holding room. Let him spend the night praying that the girl survives. If she dies…” I looked back at Enzo, letting the full weight of my words sink in, “then you will face the full consequences of your failure.”

"Yes, boss,” Luca replied.

My men grabbed Enzo by the arms and began dragging him toward the house. His desperate begging grew fainter as they moved away.

Before he disappeared inside, I called out one final question. “Where exactly did you leave her?”

"Via Pontaccio in the Brera district,” he cried out. “Near Spazio Pontaccio.”

I fumbled for another cigarette, my hands trembling so much I nearly dropped it. This operation was meant to be clean, a simple warning shot to the daughter of Armando Castellano for what he had done to my father. No one was supposed to get hurt. Now everything was complicated.

"Luca,” I ordered, “call emergency services. Report an accident on Via Pontaccio. Do it anonymously.”

Luca nodded and made the call without hesitation. Once he was done, I crushed the cigarette under my shoe.

"Let's go."

We got into the car and followed at a distance. I remained silent, staring out the window with my jaw clenched, my hand resting on the gun in my lap.

We parked on a side road with a clear view, staying out of sight, as I watched to see where the ambulance would go so I could determine which hospital they'd take her to.

The girl was merely leverage, a tool to shake Armando Castellano, the man responsible for my father's death. My goal was to instill fear, not grief.

Elena Castellano's car was badly damaged, with crumpled metal and broken glass everywhere. I saw them carefully pull her from the wreckage and place her on a stretcher. Even from this distance, she looked deathly pale, with blood visible on her clothes.

"Oh no…” I muttered under my breath. My chest tightened with unease.

This wasn't the plan. 

I had partnered with Raffaele Lorusso for a calculated move, not this.

"You can't die tonight,” I whispered, gripping the gun tighter.

If she died, everything would change. Her father would come for blood, and my carefully constructed path to revenge would be destroyed before it even began. 

I was definitely not ready for that. Not yet.

Luca stood beside me, his face calm, but his body was tense. “What do we do now, boss?”

I kept my eyes on the ambulance as its doors slammed shut. “Follow them.”

We jumped back into the car. The tires screeched as we pulled onto the road behind the ambulance. I stared straight ahead, my jaw hurting, as my thoughts raced so fast I couldn't catch any of them.

"You're not supposed to die,” the thought screamed inside my head. I clenched my hands into tight fists until the sharp pain of my nails digging into my palms was all I could feel.

I have plans for you.

If you die, my revenge fails.

**Elena's POV**

I opened my eyes and tried to blink, but the lights felt too bright, like needles pressing into them. Everything was white and overwhelming.

A dull ache pulsed through my skull with every heartbeat. I stared at the blurry shapes above me, my chest rising and falling in short, shaky breaths as I tried to remember how to breathe properly as I heard the sound of a machine beeping steadily beside me.

For a moment, I thought I was still in the car, the screech of metal, shattering glass, and the world spinning, all of it replaying in my mind.

Panic suddenly surged through me, and I gasped for air.

“Elena?”

I forced my eyes open again, everything swimming in and out of focus, and I had to blink several times before the room stopped spinning.

“Elena, hey…” The voice cracked with emotion.

I tried to turn my head toward the voice, but even that small movement sent pain shooting through my shoulder and down my side, making me grit my teeth.

My brother, Elario, was right by my bed, and just seeing him made my chest tighten. He looked terrible; his hair stood on end, and his eyes were red and swollen, as if he hadn't slept in ages.

The moment he saw me awake, he froze, then shot to his feet so quickly his chair nearly toppled.

“You're awake,” he exclaimed, grabbing my hand and pressing it to his lips. “You're really awake.”

My mouth was dry. When I finally spoke, my voice came out weak and raspy. “What happened? Where… where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital,” he said gently, his thumb brushing over my wrist. “You’ve been here for a while.”

“How long?” I asked, anxiety rising in my voice.

He hesitated, looking down. “A month, Elena. You were in a coma for a month.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “A month?”

He nodded. “A lot happened while you were out. We'll talk about it when you're stronger.”

I tried to push myself up, but sharp pain flared in my shoulder, forcing me to lie back down with a gasp. “No… that can’t be right. The crash… it just happened…”

Everything slowly began to sink in.

“Where's Papa?” I asked.

“He's outside with the doctors,” Elario replied. “He hasn't left since the night of the accident.”

Of course, he hadn't left. That was just like him.

Then the hospital door opened, and my father stepped into the room, his movements hesitant.

My father, Armando Castellano, looked nothing like himself. His suit was wrinkled, the gray in his hair more pronounced than usual, and the dark circles under his eyes made him look older and worn out. He stood there, staring at me, then his face hardened, and something twisted in my chest.

“Papa…”

He crossed the room quickly and took my hand. His voice cracked. “Cara mia, I thought I had lost you.”

Tears burned in my eyes. “I'm here,” I whispered.

“You should never have left the house that night,” he said, his words heavy. “You know the dangers. You know who we are.”

“I just needed some air,” I whispered, unable to tell him the full truth.

“Air?” His tone sharpened with fear and frustration. “Your mother wanted air too…”

“Father…” Elario stepped forward. “Not now.”

The room fell silent.

My father looked at me for a long moment, then nodded. “Rest, cara. You're safe now.” He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder before turning and walking slowly toward the door.

“Wait,” I called softly. “There's something you need to know.”

He paused, his hand on the door handle.

“I received a text… just before the crash.”

His body stiffened. “What text?”

I swallowed. “It said, ‘An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.’ It was them, wasn't it? The Lorusso clan.”

The silence grew heavy as I noticed my father and brother exchanging a tense glance.

Elario finally spoke. “We believe it was Raffaele Lorusso. He's been targeting us since we intercepted his shipment. You… you were meant to be a warning.”

My father brushed my hair back with a trembling hand. “You will not be hurt again. I will make sure of it.”

Then he walked out. The door closed behind him, leaving the scent of his cologne and a silence that weighed on my chest.

Elario stayed with me until I fell asleep again.

The next morning, I woke to soft voices outside my door. I heard Lucia's warm laugh, a sound that always felt like home, and a moment later, she entered, her face beaming with a wide smile.

Lucia was my best friend, the one person I could talk to about anything, and she'd been with Elario for two years now, long enough to feel like family.

“Lena, you're finally awake!” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “I was beginning to think you enjoyed all this attention.”

I tried to smile, but it felt shaky. "Guess I needed a break," I said, even though it sounded like a bad joke.

She sat on the bed next to me and gently smoothed my hair. “You scared us all,” she said quietly. “You scared him the most.”

Elario leaned against the wall, fiddling with his phone, but when I looked at him, he sighed and set it down. “She's right. You had everyone losing their minds.”

Lucia smiled at him, her face softening. She walked over, leaned in close, and whispered something in his ear that made him chuckle. He grabbed her wrist and gently tugged her toward him.

“Babe,” she whispered, glancing at me. “We're in a hospital.”

“So?” he murmured, perking her forehead. “You said I should relax.”

She playfully hit his arm, but her smile stayed bright. “You only listen when it suits you.”

​“I listen when it comes from you,” he said, gazing at her with warmth in his eyes.

I looked away, giving them their moment, but I couldn't help noticing the way he looked at her, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I wondered what it felt like to be loved that way, to have someone look at you with all the love in the world in their eyes.

Lucia moved closer to me, her cheeks flushed. "He hardly slept at all," she said. "He wouldn't eat anything; he just sat here waiting."

Elario grunted from the corner. “Don't make me sound pathetic.”

“You are pathetic,” she teased, smiling at him.

He didn't argue. His eyes softened as he looked at me. “Please, don't scare us again.”

Two weeks later, the doctor finally said I could go home, but nothing felt real. Everything looked the same, yet it all felt off.

Back at home, there were more guards than before, and it felt as if I couldn't take a step without someone watching me. I barely had time to catch my breath before my father summoned me to his office, his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Sit down,” he instructed gently.

Elario was already there, leaning against his desk, his expression tense.

My father's face was tight with worry, but his voice was too calm, making me uneasy. The clock ticked in the background, each second echoing loudly in the quiet room, heightening the tension.

He stared at me for what felt like forever, his eyes lingering on the fading bruises on my face and the stitches on my shoulder.

“You were attacked because of me,” he said quietly.

“I know,” I whispered.

“That's why I've made a decision for your safety.”

My stomach tightened. “What kind of decision?”

“You are getting married.”

My heart skipped a beat at those words. I couldn't breathe properly; it felt like something was pressing down on my chest.

I stared at him, my throat tight, my voice barely working.

"What? You can't be serious, Papa."

"I am," he replied softly. "This alliance is the only way to keep you safe.”

“I don't want protection,” I cried, my voice cracking with raw desperation. "I just want my life back."

His eyes softened, but his voice remained firm. "You mean everything to me, Elena, and I would do anything to protect you."

My eyes stung, and everything went blurry. “You can't just decide that for me. I don't even know who you want me to marry. Who is it?”

Elario, looking troubled, spoke up. "Father, maybe we should consider this more before deciding..."

My father cut him off firmly: "There's no need for further discussions. The decision has already been made."

My hands shook, and I dug my fingers into the chair, trying to keep it together. "Who am I supposed to marry?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"You will marry Stefano Bernardo," he said, meeting my eyes.

The name sent a shiver down my spine. I had heard rumors about him: that he was ruthless, cold, the kind of man people whispered about when they thought no one was listening.

Right then, the door creaked open, and I turned around, my heart pounding as the footsteps drew closer.

That was the first time I saw him.

**Stefano's POV**

I heard it before I touched the doorknob, a sound that tightened my chest and slowed my steps. A woman's voice echoed through the door, and I could feel her anger in every word she spoke before I saw her face.

Elena Castellano.

I pushed the door open, and her sparkling blue eyes met mine. She paused for a second, and I noticed the fading bruises on her temple, cheekbone, and shoulder.

My stomach tightened at the sight.

The room fell silent, almost too quiet, and I could hear her breathing as her anger radiated outward.

Armando stood stiffly behind his desk, his jaw clenched so tight. “Elena,” he said, maintaining his composure. “This is Stefano Bernardo.”

Her eyes widened instantly. "No!" she spat out, her face set in a fierce expression.

“Elena!” her father warned, his voice firm.

She shook her head and stepped back. "You can’t force me into this,” she said, her voice wavering, but she held back her tears. 

She ran out of the room, passing me quickly, and I caught a faint scent of vanilla with a hint of something sharp, possibly citrus, on her skin.

“Elena!” Armando called after her, but she was already gone. Elario slipped out behind her, muttering something about giving her some space. 

Suddenly it was just Armando and me.

He let out a long breath, shoulders sagging. “Forgive her, Stefano. She's been through a lot. The accident… she's still recovering.”

“She's strong,” I whispered, still looking at the door where she had disappeared.

“She'll come around once she understands what's at stake,” Armando said, sounding almost relieved.

“I'll give her time,” I replied. “But you should arrange a proper meeting soon. I want to get to know my future wife.”

“Of course,” he murmured.

As I prepared to leave, I saw her through the window. She was pacing back and forth in the garden, hair wild around her face, while her brother tried to calm her.

She looked like chaos wrapped in silk and defiance.

And for reasons I didn't want to admit, I couldn't look away.

*****

The club was dimly lit as I entered. Raffaele Lorusso stood at the bar, calmly wiping his hands with a napkin, as one of his men quickly dealt with a situation on the floor.

“That one talked too much,” Raffaele said casually as his attention shifted to me.

His green eyes hardly blinked, always alert. His hair was a deep red under the dim lights, slicked back but messy around a noticeable scar that ran from his cheekbone to his jaw

“Sit, Bernardo,” he ordered.

I sat down. The air around us felt thick with tension.

Raffaele leaned on the table, watching me intently, curiosity in his eyes. "So," he said softly as he lit a cigarette, "the plan. Tell me it's progressing."

“It is. Faster than we expected.”

His lips curved slightly. “Good. I have little patience for delays.”

I poured myself a drink, feeling the liquor burn my throat. "Because of your phrase, my men used," I finally said. "Armando now believes your people targeted his daughter. He sees it as a warning from the Lorusso clan."

Raffaele exhaled smoke through his nose, looking amused. “So he blames me.”

“He does. Because of that, he came to me.” I paused and met his gaze. “He asked for my protection.”

Raffaele chuckled. “He came to you to hide from me? That's poetic.”

“It's strategic,” I replied. “Exactly what we wanted. He thinks I’m an ally. He doesn't know I was behind the attack on his daughter.”

Raffaele pressed, "And what about the girl?"

“She has been discharged from the hospital,” I said. “She's the key. Armando's already desperate to keep her safe; he'll do anything now to protect her. That's our advantage in this situation.”

Raffaele studied me for a while, then nodded. “So what's next?”

“Marriage,” I said, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. “It's already in motion. Armando believes marrying me is the only way to protect her. In four weeks, we'll have the wedding. After that, the real plan begins. I'll take everything from him, his assets, his deals, his power.”

Raffaele smiled slowly. “And my share?”

“As agreed, you'll receive half of the Castellano assets. You'll control the docks, supply routes, and northern territories.”

He flicked ash into the tray and looked at me with an expression that almost resembled respect. "I like you, Bernardo." He took a sip of his drink. "You're not soft like your father.”

His words hit harder than I wanted to admit, but I kept my face blank. "You didn't really know my father."

"I was aware of him," Raffaele said, his voice softening. "Everyone was… but those who trust too easily don't last long.”

My jaw tightened. “He trusted the wrong person.”

"Castellano," Raffaele sneered, the name dripping with disdain. "Now you're set to make him pay for what he did, step by step. I can live with that."

A knot of doubt suddenly twisted in my stomach, urging me to walk away while I still could. I stared into my glass, trying to drown out the worry, but each time I remembered what Armando did to my father, the fear faded, leaving only the determination to see this through.

Raffaele stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, then fixed his gaze on me. "Keep me updated," he said. "If Armando starts sniffing around, I'll lay a trail to keep him in the dark. But if this goes wrong…" He glanced deliberately at me. "You will clean up your own mess."

I stood, buttoning my jacket, my movements steady and controlled. “I always do.”

His lips lifted into a cold smile again. "Good. Then go make the princess fall in love with you."

Leaving the club, the memory of my father hit me all over again.

Four years ago, I had witnessed Armando pull the trigger. They were supposed to be friends, or at least that's what everyone thought, but Armando exploited that trust out of greed. He thought he had gotten away with what he did, believing no one saw him, but he never knew I was there.

I still carried the memory of my father's final moments, waiting patiently for my chance at revenge.

At last, the moment has finally arrived.