Her father's sins

The wrong attempt

STEFANO’S POV

I walked out of the room, my lighter still in hand, though I had stopped the flickering. Anger throbbed in my chest, but beneath it simmered something else, a restless curiosity I refused to name. At the door, I lowered my voice, whispering to the woman waiting there. It was a middle-aged woman, calm and composed, a mother figure in a house full of predators.

Lola had been with us as long as I could remember. Even when my father died, she stayed. She was like a second mother to us and raised my younger sister, Natalie, with patience no one managed to summon because she was so annoying, but Natalie adored her. I trusted her implicitly more than any of my men, more than most people in this life.

“Lola, take her to the room prepared for her,” I instructed. “Make sure she changes and takes a bath. Don’t let her do anything stupid.”

I then turned away. I was still angry at what Eva had done earlier the spit and her whole defiance but it dissolved into a low hum of something else when I remembered her torn clothes and her exposed skin, it was an absurd and maddening contrast to wear a pink bra, a color that screamed innocence against the way she spat on my face without hesitation.

For some reasons, I allowed myself to consider the thought of ripping off the remaining shreds of what she was wearing.

I walked straight to my room.

“Mateo,” I said, catching my right-hand man before he could leave. “We’re done for today. You can go.”

With that, I closed the door behind me. My room was vast, monochromatic black and white dominating every surface and every texture. It was a space stripped of distraction, a place where I could have my peace. My desk sat at the far wall, angular and precise, covered in files and documents meticulously arranged. I set my phone and lighter down, peeled off my clothes in long, deliberate motions, letting them fall in a crumpled heap to the floor. Wrapping a towel around my waist and another around my neck, I stepped into the shower.

The water pounded against me, hot, I scrubbed my face with the sting of frustration. That insolent girl had spat on me, dared to challenge me. It was infuriating

Just as I stepped out of the shower, water still glistening on my skin, a sharp, urgent knock echoed against the door. My muscles tensed instantly, every nerve on high alert. Who the hell? I instinctively slide my hand under the pillow to reach for the gun I always kept there.

My brow furrowed as I crossed the room, towel still wrapped securely around my waist, the second around my neck. Opening the door, I saw the Lola, her calm composure replaced by evident worry. Beside her stood one of my men.

“I.. I can’t find the girl,” the woman stammered. “I left her in the room just to get clean clothes, but she… she isn’t there anymore.”

A surge of anger and disdain flared inside me. Despite every warning and every threat, she had the audacity to defy me. She thought she could hide in my own house. The thought alone made me smirk, but the ice-cold weight of control settled over me immediately.

“Lock down the house,” I ordered one of my men, my voice sharp and unyielding. “Nobody leaves. Set the emergency alarm.”

The blaring siren erupted, filling every corner of the mansion with urgency. I adjusted the towel around my waist, the second one on my neck, and moved toward the room she was left in. As I entered I studied the space to note the details, sense how she might have left the room.

I noticed it was the damn toilet seat. She used it as leverage to climb to the window above. I knew where she would be. Immediately, I redirected toward the connecting balcony, the most logical hiding spot. The alarm blared behind me; my men scoured the halls, as I went to the room.

As I entered the room, scanning silently, I opened the toilet door and there she was. She swung a toilet brush at me, striking my head.

“What the f**k was that meant to do?” I growled, the irritation sharp in my voice. “Do I look like some four-year-old?”

She raised her hand again, ready to strike, but my height and grip made her hand still under my control. I looked down at her, she was still in torn clothes, defiance blazing in her eyes. Beneath me, a surge of something I refused to name came up, but I forced it aside. I pulled her hand down, dragging her out.

“It seems my warnings fell on deaf ears,” I said, voice low but sharp, trying not to let my gaze fall to her exposed cleavage. “What part of ‘your father is in danger’ do you not understand?”

“I don’t know who the f**k you are!” she snapped, voice raw, trembling with anger. “And you don’t expect me to sit back while some random stranger decides my life for me!”

“I am not a random stranger now, my darling,” I said, tightening my grip. “I own you. And next time, I will not be so soft. You are coming to my room. There, you will spend your days until you learn that you are not going anywhere without my permission.”

She froze in shock and irritation, battling across her face.

“Why would I stay in your room?” she asked stupidly.

“So you won’t run off again, baby girl,” I said, dragging her toward my room. She struggled, fighting with every ounce of strength, but my hold was firm on her. On the way, I stopped one of my men.

“Turn off the alarm,” I commanded. The worry etched on Lola’s face melted away, replaced with relief as she realized we had found her.

I ignored her and continued toward my room as she struggled, because the control was mine.