CHAPTER 21
Ariana's POV
Just as the words were about to tumble out of my mouth, Alessandro pulled away sharply and growled.
“When you’re ready to talk, the boys will see you.”
“Why?” I blurted, my throat tightening. “Why them? Why can’t I speak to you?”
The last words came out barely above a whisper. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to ask — because speaking to him alone terrified me more than I’d ever admit.
For a brief moment, Alessandro’s glare wavered. Confusion flickered across his face — something like fear, maybe even guilt — but it vanished before I could make sense of it. My mind was spinning too fast to hold onto the thought anyway.
A shadow seemed to fall over my heart as he turned away. Without another word, Alessandro straightened, his movements sharp and cold, and left the room.
I watched his back as it grew smaller and smaller, the distance between us stretching like years. My chest tightened painfully. That was it — the confirmation I didn’t want but had always expected.
They weren’t going to let me go.
And Alessandro wanted nothing to do with me.
I closed my eyes as tears slipped down my cheeks, my head pounding with exhaustion and heartbreak. Every time I thought life was finally giving me a chance, it always dragged me back to square one.
Why did I have to meet Alessandro again?
Getting over him had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done — the kind of wound that healed slowly and left scars. For years, I fought to forget him, to convince myself that people move on, that time erases love. And it worked — at least I thought it did. Until now.
Now, all I could see were his eyes — the way he looked at me like I was the one who ruined everything. Like he hated me.
That thought alone broke something deep inside me.
The door creaked open again, and both Bruno and Salvatore stepped in. I sat on the bed, devastated, trying to pull myself together, though the ache in my chest was unbearable. My gaze dropped to my hands as I fidgeted with my fingers.
“Hey,” Bruno said gently, his tone lighter than I expected. “Why don’t you come inside the mansion with us? You could have dinner with us. I promise — no more questions tonight.”
I looked up at him, surprised. He gave me a small, kind smile, and when I glanced at Salvatore, he nodded once — a silent reassurance.
I didn’t know what to think anymore. First, they’d kidnapped me. Now, they were offering dinner like we were family. The confusion was overwhelming.
“Come on,” Bruno coaxed, stretching out his hand. “Alessandro won’t be there. I’ll make sure of it.”
My hand trembled as I reached out to him. When his warm fingers closed around mine, I let him pull me up.
It was strange, but leaving that small house — even if it meant going deeper into their world — felt like relief. The place had become suffocating, heavy with everything I didn’t want to feel.
We made our way toward the mansion, and as soon as we stepped inside, I spotted faces I didn’t recognize. Mia was there, of course, always the calm in the chaos, but there were also two men I hadn’t seen before.
“Hey,” Mia greeted with a bright smile. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine...” I murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
“That’s great!” she said warmly. “If you need anything, just tell me. In the meantime, let me introduce you to the rest of the family.”
We sat together in the lounge while she gestured toward the long dining table in the adjoining hall. People were already gathering, filling the seats.
“That’s Andrés and Luca,” Mia pointed out.
I followed her gaze to two men sitting side by side, both dark-haired, both scrolling through their phones with casual disinterest. Their presence radiated danger — quiet, unspoken power that made my skin prickle.
“They work with Alessandro,” Mia explained. “Don’t worry, they’re not here to hurt you.”
“O-okay,” I said, nodding weakly.
“That’s Leyla,” she continued, pointing toward the kitchen doorway just as a young woman walked out, balancing a steaming bowl.
She looked barely out of her teens — slim, beautiful, with bright energy that filled the room.
But when she tripped and dropped the bowl, the men at the table immediately scolded her.
Mia stifled a giggle. “She’s Bruno’s younger sister.”
I couldn’t help but smile faintly as I watched Leyla laugh off her mistake, cheeks flushed. Her personality was strikingly similar to her brother’s — vibrant, warm, and a little chaotic.
“She’s beautiful,” I whispered under my breath.
“She is,” Mia agreed softly. Then she stood and offered me a hand. “Alright, it’s time to eat. Come on, Ariana. I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
“Okay...” I said, standing and following her toward the dining table.
Everyone was already seated except for Alessandro — and for that, I was grateful. Just the thought of seeing him again made my chest tighten.
Still, the air felt different, heavier, like it already knew he was coming.
My fingers fidgeted with the edge of my napkin, pretending to be occupied while my pulse thudded behind my ribs.
It wasn’t supposed to feel like this anymore — not the flutter that stirred low in my stomach, not the heat that crawled up my neck at the thought of his eyes finding me again.
I tried to breathe, but it came out uneven.
Every sound in the room dulled except the faint echo of my own heartbeat, and in it, I could almost hear his voice — low, rough, the kind that used to make my name sound like something forbidden.
My body still remembered what it meant to be near him, even when my mind begged it to forget.
“Guys, meet Ariana,” Mia announced.
Every head turned in unison. My stomach twisted as their eyes landed on me.
“She’ll be around for a while,” Mia added. “So make her feel welcome, please.”
“Hi!” Leyla chirped from one end of the table, waving enthusiastically. Her cheerfulness eased my nerves just a little. For the first time since I’d arrived here, I didn’t feel completely unwanted.
“Ciao, Ariana,” said one of the men — Andrés, I guessed. He gave a curt nod before returning to his phone. The other, Luca, didn’t even look up.
“Sit down, Ariana, and eat,” Salvatore said firmly from across the table. “You can’t leave until you’ve had real food.”
I looked from him to the table — lined with elegant bowls, crystal glasses, and plates stacked with dishes that looked far too rich to touch. My stomach growled audibly, betraying me.
I hadn’t realized until that moment just how hungry I was.
It had been so long since I’d had a proper meal — and sitting here, surrounded by people who once terrified me, I finally felt the ache of it.
The hunger.
The exhaustion.
The quiet, desperate need to feel normal again.
And for the first time in a long time... I picked up my fork.
I pulled out a chair and sank into it while Mia began filling my plate. She insisted, and honestly, I didn’t have the strength to argue. All I needed right now was food in my body — something solid to keep me grounded.
When she handed the plate back, my eyes widened at the sheer amount she’d given me, but I didn’t say anything. Around the table, everyone was already eating in silence, each absorbed in their own world.
“Just eat as much as you can,” Mia said softly. “Don’t worry about finishing it all — just eat what you can.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, picking up my fork.
“So, Ariana,” a voice piped up suddenly. My head snapped up at the sound of my name, and my eyes darted toward the source — Leyla. “Do you like it so far here?”
“Leyla!” Bruno snapped immediately. “Shut up, will you?”
“What?” she huffed, throwing her hands up. “I’m only asking!”
“Leyla,” Mia cut in calmly, “let’s eat. We can talk later.”
Leyla pouted but nodded, going back to her food.
Gradually, the tension eased, and the room filled with a quiet murmur of overlapping conversations — Mia chatting softly with me, Leyla teasing Bruno, Salvatore speaking with him in low tones, and Andrés and Luca talking among themselves. For a moment, it almost felt... normal.
Until it didn’t.
“What the fuck—?”
The sudden outburst shattered the calm. The four men across from me shot out of their seats, faces pale and eyes locked on something behind me.
I froze.
A sharp gasp from someone nearby made me turn around, and when I did, the sight that met me drained every bit of blood from my face.
Alessandro.
He stumbled through the entrance of his own mansion — bloodied, battered, barely standing. His shirt was soaked through with crimson, one hand clutched tight over his arm as he staggered forward before collapsing onto the marble floor.
The room erupted into chaos.
The men rushed toward him while I sat frozen, unable to move, my heart thundering in my chest. Alessandro groaned in pain, trying to push himself up, but his strength gave out.
When the men lifted him onto the couch, he let out a guttural hiss, removing his hand from his arm to reveal a fresh gunshot wound.
He gritted his teeth, face contorted in agony, his breathing ragged. Sweat dripped down his temples, and his usually commanding expression twisted with raw pain.
“What the fuck happened?” Salvatore barked, already pulling out his phone. “Who did this?”
“I—I don’t... know,” Alessandro forced out, voice breaking into a growl as another wave of pain hit him.
“Take him to Dr. Araldo, now!” Mia ordered, rushing over to inspect the wound.
Alessandro hissed again as she touched his arm, his body trembling with strain.
I stood frozen in the middle of the chaos, throat dry, heart hammering so hard it hurt. My hands trembled uselessly by my sides.
“Bruno,” Salvatore snapped, “get the entire area searched. I’ll take Andrés and Luca to find the bastard who did this. Mia, get Dr. Araldo — and Leyla—”
All eyes turned toward Leyla, who stood near the doorway, pale and visibly gagging.
“Just fuck off,” Salvatore barked.
“Yeah, gladly!” she said weakly before running out of the room.
Within seconds, everyone scattered. Orders echoed through the mansion until the noise faded — and I suddenly realized I was standing there, completely alone with Alessandro.
The silence that followed was deafening.
He lay slumped on the couch, his face pale, breathing uneven. I could barely recognize him. His eyes fluttered open, finding mine, and when he spoke, his voice was weak but sharp enough to cut through me.
“See this, gattina?” he exhaled harshly. “All this happened... because of you.”
The words hit me like a knife to the chest.
Tears welled in my eyes instantly, blurring my vision as I watched him grimace and clutch his wound. I shook my head, trying to breathe, trying to form words, but all that came out was a broken whisper.
“Alessandro... how did this happen?”
He didn’t answer. He just scoffed, forcing himself upright with a groan. I stepped forward to help, but he pushed me away roughly, hissing as the motion jarred his arm.
“Let me help you, please,” I begged.
His glare snapped toward me so sharply I froze mid-step. My stomach twisted as his bloodshot eyes locked onto mine — filled not only with pain, but fury, tears, and something darker. The bruises shadowing his face made him look feral.
“Do you really want to help me?” he rasped.
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Then stay away from me.”
The words crushed me.
My heart cracked open right there in the middle of that room — humiliation, grief, and despair flooding in all at once. The way he spat those words at me made it clear: he didn’t just hate me being here — he hated me.
I felt my throat close up as tears streamed down my cheeks. My chest ached so hard it felt like I couldn’t breathe. Alessandro turned away, jaw clenched, pretending I wasn’t even there as he focused back on his wound.
And that was when it truly sank in.
It didn’t matter how kind Bruno was. Or how gentle Mia tried to be. Or how warm Leyla’s smile seemed.
Because none of it mattered if Alessandro didn’t want me here.
And he didn’t.
I stepped back slowly, the weight of it crushing me. My heart was breaking — breaking so completely I wasn’t sure I’d survive it this time.
The one person I thought would never say something like that to me had just done exactly that.
When Mia came back with Dr. Araldo, I didn’t even look at them. I turned and walked out.
The night air hit me cold and heavy as I made my way back to the small house. Mia called after me, insisting I shouldn’t go alone, but I didn’t listen. I couldn’t.
My body moved on its own — trembling, hollow — while my mind replayed his words over and over again.
Then stay away from me.
Each repetition was a blow.
He really did hate me.
And there was nothing I could do about it..