**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.

**Stefano's POV**

When I walked into the office later that night, the silence swallowed the click of the lock behind me. I loosened the knot of my tie and poured a generous drink, watching the amber liquid catch the low light as it filled the glass. I needed the familiar burn to chase away the restless energy that had been building inside me all evening.

The weight of the day pressed on my shoulders: the meeting with Armando, the sight of Elena's bruises, and the carefully laid plans that were finally beginning to move. I took a small sip, letting the warmth spread through my chest, but it did little to ease the familiar empty feeling in my chest.

Then I heard the click of heels behind me.

Lucia Romano.

She entered the room. Her red dress clung to her figure, and the heavy scent of her perfume filled the air.

I looked at her, keeping my expression neutral. “You did well.”

Lucia's smile didn't reach her eyes as she gripped the back of the chair, her knuckles turning white.

"You told me to warn you the moment Elena went out alone. I did what you asked." She clenched her jaw and held my gaze, her eyes blazing with anger. “She was supposed to be eliminated. Why is she still breathing?”

The anger in her words was sharp, but beneath it I heard the hurt and the jealousy she couldn't hide. I watched her briefly, letting the silence grow between us.

She shifted her weight, and I could see the question in her eyes, the way she wanted me to say something, anything at all.

“Are you truly going to marry her? After everything I've done for you and all we've been through?” she asked, her eyes welling with tears, as her voice broke on the last word.

“What we've been through,” I said flatly, “was never about love.”

She took a step closer, her breathing uneven. “You told me she was nothing. You said she was only meant to be a warning to her father. So why is she still here, Stefano? Why are you tying yourself to her?”

"She was never supposed to die.” ​I held her gaze, my voice cold and steady. "I just needed Armando to be afraid. Elena is very useful to me.”

“And me?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, trembling with vulnerability. “What am I to you, then?”

I set my glass down on the desk and stood, towering over her. “You're mine, Lucia. But you don't get to question what that means or demand more than I'm willing to give.”

She stared at me, her face tight with pain. "You always think ten steps ahead," she whispered, "but do you even feel anything anymore?"

“Feelings get in the way,” I said with a faint smile. “They cloud judgment and destroy plans.”

She closed the remaining distance between us. Her fingertips traced the line of my jaw. “Maybe feeling something is what keeps us human, Stefano.”

I caught her wrist and pulled her closer. “You knew exactly what this arrangement was from the beginning. You wanted power and influence too.”

​“I wanted you!” she retorted.

The room fell silent, thick with tension, and I noticed the quick flash of desire in her eyes.

She pressed against me, her lips met mine in a kiss filled with frustration and longing. What started as anger quickly turned into raw passion. We gave in completely, losing ourselves as clothes were quickly shed in a rush of need. I lifted her onto the desk, papers scattering across the floor as we lost ourselves in each other.

In that instant, Elena flashed into my mind, her fierce glare, those burning blue eyes filled with challenge.

Why was she haunting my thoughts now?

My every move was desperate as I tried to force Elena out of my mind.

“I love you so much, Stefano,” Lucia moaned against me.

I froze mid-motion. The word ‘love’ caught me completely off guard, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. For a brief second, something uncomfortable twisted in my chest. I forced myself forward, driving harder and faster, more urgently, until all I heard was the sound of our ragged breathing.

When it was over, Lucia sat on the edge of the desk, breathing heavily, her hair falling over her face, while I slowly buttoned my shirt, watching her chest rise and fall.

She lifted her head, meeting my gaze, her eyes filled with sadness. “When this is all over,” she asked softly, her voice laced with hope, “once you've destroyed them, will I truly be yours? No more pretending, no more secrets?”

I stepped closer, lifting her chin with my fingers. “You will get what you deserve, Lucia.”

She hesitated, her expression shifting. “And Elena? If marrying her is what makes your plan work, what will happen after the marriage?”

I turned and looked at her over my shoulder. "Elena will learn who really controls her. It's the only way to make her father pay for what he did to my family.”

Her jaw tightened, and for a second I thought she might say something sharp, but she just pressed her lips together and turned away.

The sound of her heels on the floor was the only answer I got.

As she reached for the door, my voice cut through the silence: "Don't let your guard down in that house,” I warned her. "Elario is clever."

​"I've done this for three years." Her eyes flashed with frustration. "They still haven't found out. You should trust me more.”

She left without another word, the door clicking shut behind her.

I walked to the window, staring at my reflection in the glass. “She'll marry me,” I murmured. “Then she'll help me destroy her father with her own hands.”

Her father's betrayal had shattered my family, leaving a wound that only revenge could heal. I must finish this, not just for power, but for justice for my father.

“The Master's move.” A faint smile touched my lips.

I opened the desk drawer and pulled out a file. Elena Castellano's photo stared back at me, her eyes sharp and full of life.

“Maybe it would have been better if you hadn't survived…” My thumb traced the outline of her face. “Now you will pay for your father's sins.”