Chapter 54 #2
The words hit her hard. I saw the flash of pain in her eyes, a reflection of the years she had spent hardening herself to survive the Versace name. She reached out, brushing my hair aside with a tenderness she rarely showed.
“I think you’ll be a great mother,” she said softly. “Because you already care about who they become. That’s more than most of us ever had.”
I took a shaky breath and nodded. The decision was made. “I'm keeping it.”
Asvika, who had been standing guard by the door, stepped closer. “Are you going to tell Dominic?”
I looked at the silver compass still sitting on my desk in the other room. “Not yet,” I said, my voice gaining a bit of its old strength. “Just a bit more time. I need to be sure I can protect them here first.”
My mother stood up, signalling for the maids to come in and clear the wreckage. She gave my hand one last squeeze before she left the room, her silhouette tall and regal.
The maids moved like ghosts, sweeping up the glass and replacing the broken mirror. Once they were gone, the silence felt even louder.
The bathroom was silent, the only sound was the faint hum of the mansion's ventilation. I stood before the shower, my fingers hovering near the handle, but I couldn't touch it. Even the sight of the polished chrome made my throat tighten.
I dropped my gaze, my body shaking. I couldn't do it. I couldn't stand under that spray.
To the rest of the world, it was only a shower. But to me, it was a threat. Every time I heard the rush of water, my mind dragged me back to that basement—the feeling of being held down, the burning in my nose, the terrifying realization that I couldn't breathe.
I stepped away from the shower and climbed into the dry bathtub instead. I sat on the cold marble, naked and shivering, pulling my knees to my chest. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to create a barrier between me and the memories.
"Asvika?" My voice was small, bouncing off the tiles.
"I’m here, Vee," she replied from outside the open door. She sat on the floor with her back to the frame, a silent guard.
"I can't turn it on," I whispered, resting my forehead on my knees. "I feel like the water won’t stop once it starts running. What if I drown right here in the middle of my own house?"
The trauma was a weight in the room, heavier than the Versace name. I was supposed to be the heir, the survivor, the woman who had stared down her betrayer. But in the silence of the bathroom, I was just a girl terrified of a faucet.
"You don't have to turn it on today," Asvika said softly. "It’s okay to sit there. The water isn't the boss of you anymore. You're the one in control."
I closed my eyes, focusing on the solid feel of the tub beneath me. I wasn't in the basement. I wasn't being held down. I was home.
"Sanaa..." I started, my voice trailing off.
"Don’t take her words to heart," Asvika interrupted gently. "She has a foul way of saying she doesn’t want to lose you. She’s terrified that this baby will make you a target she can't protect."
I took a shaky breath, the cold air stinging my lungs. I thought about the life growing inside me—a secret that changed everything. I had to get stronger. I had to learn how to face the water again. Not just for me, but for the child who would need me to be their shield.
"I know," I whispered into the dark.
I stayed in the dry tub for a long time, listening to Asvika’s steady breathing in the hallway. I wasn't ready to face the spray yet. But for the first time, the silence didn't feel like a threat. It felt like a start.
And so, I turned the water on.
It's been three days since I found out I was carrying a life within me. And I had come to the terms that I needed to protect both of us.
I walked into the council chamber, and I could feel their eyes following my every step. My heels echoed against the marble, steady, deliberate, each step a declaration.
The coat I wore trailed behind me like a shadow I’d learned to weaponize.
They expected me to be fragile.
They expected me to be recovering, hiding, and afraid.
They forgot who I was.
I took my seat at the head of the long table. The air was tense, thick with unspoken judgment. I could feel it. The doubts, the whispers, the old men wondering if a woman who’d been kidnapped could still command an empire.
My gaze flicked to the far end of the table. Mr. Kashani. Aurelio’s father.
The corner of his mouth twitched when our eyes met, a subtle reminder that he remembered everything I wished I could forget.
So, I smiled.
The boardroom was stifling, the air thick with the scent of old paper and the even older egos of the men seated around the mahogany table.
The senior advisor, a man who had served my grandfather and thought that seniority gave him the right to be condescending, leaned back. He cleared his throat, a smirk playing on his thin lips.
“With all due respect, Lady Versace. Perhaps the council should handle matters of war. A woman’s place is to be protected, not to lead the charge. Your recent instability proves that—”
He never finished the sentence.
The movement was a blur. The pistol was in my hand before he could even blink, a heavy, cold weight that felt like an extension of my own arm.
One clean pull of the trigger.
The report echoed like a thunderclap in the confined space, the sound sharp enough to ring in everyone’s ears.
Blood splattered across the white marble wall behind him, dark and immediate. His body slumped, hitting the floor with a dull thud before the other council members could even draw a breath.
Silence stretched—cold, absolute, and suffocating.
I didn’t shake. I didn't flinch. I slowly holstered the weapon, the metal clicking into place with a finality that made the man sitting next to the empty chair jump. I reached out, smoothed the lapel of my coat, and looked up, meeting every pair of eyes in the room.
“Now,” I said, my voice calm, composed, and utterly unyielding. “Let’s proceed to business. I am not here to protect anyone’s fragile masculinity. And I am certainly not here to be told my place by men who couldn't even keep me safe for a single night.”
I leaned forward, the shadows of the room catching the fire in my eyes. “Does anyone else have a suggestion on where my place should be?”
No one dared to speak.
The only sound in the room was the ticking of the grandfather clock and the heavy realization that the girl who left six months ago had died in that basement. The woman who returned was a Versace through and through.
Even my grandfather knew that. That’s why his empire was mine.
So, we continued.
The council talked numbers and territories, voices trembling while I listened in silence. Every man and woman in that room understood—the heir of the House of Versace was back.
And nothing, not the child growing inside me, not Dominic, not even fate itself, would ever make me bow again.