Chapter 18
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“You never learn, amore,” he murmured against my ear.
I thrashed beneath him, but he was stronger, his grip unforgiving.
“Go on, fight me,” he whispered. “I love it when you fight me. Because if you won’t love me,” he murmured, gripping my chin between his fingers, forcing me to meet his gaze, “then I’ll make sure no one else has you,”
I let out a short, sharp laugh. “You think chaining me here makes me yours?”
Before he could respond, I moved–fast.
My legs wrapped around his torso, locking him in a brutal chokehold.
Lorenzo stumbled, gripping my thighs, but I twisted, using the chains as leverage. We crashed to the floor, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs.
I scrambled toward the nightstand–toward his gun.
He lunged, grabbing my ankle, but I kicked him in the ribs, hard.
He grunted, rolling onto his side as I grabbed the gun.
I aimed it at him, my chest heaving, eyes wild.
He smirked. “Go on, cara. Pull the trigger.”
My hands trembled–just for a second.
Then, my expression hardened.
I didn’t shoot.
Instead, I turned the gun around and slammed the handle against his
temple.
Pain exploded in his skull. His vision blurred.
By the time he recovered-
I was gone.
My legs were weak. My wrists ached from the chains. But I ran.
The estate was chaos–bodies, blood, destruction.
I stumbled through the corridors, heart hammering against my ribs.
Then-
I saw him.
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Darius.
He stood at the entrance, gun in hand, scanning the carnage.
When his gaze landed on me, relief flickered across his face.
Then–rage.
He stormed toward me, gripping my face in his hands. “Are you hurt?”
I shook my head. “No.”
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His fingers traced my wrists, his jaw clenching at the bruises. His next breath came slow, controlled. But I could feel the storm beneath it.
“I’ll kill him,” he said, voice deathly quiet.
I grabbed his wrist, stopping him. “Not yet.”
His eyes flashed. “Valeria-”
I exhaled sharply, gripping his arms. “If you kill him now, it’ll be too easy.”
Darius’s gaze searched mine, and then-
A slow, knowing smirk. He understood. This wasn’t over. Lorenzo wanted
war?
I’d give him one.
But it would be on my terms.
The basement reeked of sweat, blood, and suffering. Lorenzo knelt on the cold floor, wrists bound behind his back, his head bowed. His once–pristine suit was tattered, his knuckles bruised from struggling against the chains.
I stood before him, watching, waiting. His breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling with every painful breath.
Yet, when he lifted his head, his eyes still burned for me.
Even broken, even knowing the hell I put him through, he still looked at me as if I belonged to him.
He had been down here for a week.
And yet, I knew–I wasn’t even close to breaking him.
But this would.
I reached for the tablet and pressed play.
A soft giggle filled the room.
Lorenzo’s body went still.
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Then, her voice–sweet, filled with pure love.
“Daddy! Daddy, look! I drew this for you!”
Lorenzo’s entire body shook.
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I didn’t look at the video. I didn’t need to. I had memorized every second of it–the way Amara’s tiny hands clung to his, the way her big brown eyes shone with adoration when she looked at him.
Lorenzo sucked in a sharp breath, his lips parting slightly as if to speak, but no words came out.
On the screen, Amara twirled in her princess dress, her curls bouncing as she giggled.
“Do you like it, Daddy? I made it just for you!”
His hands curled into fists. His breathing turned erratic.
Then, the next clip played.
Amara, wrapped in his arms, burying her tiny face into his chest as she whispered, “You’re my hero, Daddy. I love you soooo much.”
Lorenzo choked.
His body jerked violently against the chains, his breath coming out in harsh
gasps.
“Turn it off,” he rasped.
I didn’t.
Instead, I pulled out the small dress. Amara’s dress.
Lorenzo’s entire world collapsed.
His eyes widened as he stared at it. His lips trembled. His face drained of
all color.
“No-” His voice broke. “No, please-”
I dropped the dress in front of him.
“You killed her,” I whispered.
A deep, gut–wrenching sob ripped from his throat.
Lorenzo shook his head violently, chains rattling.
“No. No, I didn’t-”
I stepped closer, crouching in front of him, my voice a deadly whisper.
“You were her hero.” I leaned in, watching as he trembled. “And you
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became the monster who destroyed her.”
Lorenzo broke.
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His body sagged against the chains. His head dropped forward. A strangled cry left his lips.
“I would trade my life for hers,” he gasped. ‘I would do anything–anything -to bring her back.”
I slapped him. Hard.
He didn’t even react.
“If that were true, you’d be dead,” I hissed.
Lorenzo didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Didn’t fight.
For the first time, I saw it.
The moment he truly realized–he had lost everything.
I turned and walked out, slamming the door behind me.
Let him drown in his pain.
-ISABELLA’S POV-
Time was running out. Lorenzo was ruined. Darius was closing in. And Valeria? That woman had survived everything she threw at her.
But not this time. From the car, Isabella watched Valeria enter the cemetery, draped in black. She always came alone–always. A perfect target.
The mercenaries shifted restlessly, guns hidden beneath their jackets. They were ruthless, trained killers.
A smirk tugged at Isabella’s lips.
Today, Valeria De Luca would die.
