Chapter2
1055 Words
Ava's POV
“Dad, please.”
“Not him,” I murmured.
“You can't do this to me.”
“I–I can't…”
I dropped to my knees beside him, gripping his hand like letting go would destroy me.
“You know how much I hate that world.”
“You know what happened to Mom.” Tears rolled down my cheeks before I could stop them.
“Your mother died because I couldn't protect her,” he said with a glimpse of guilt in his eyes.
“But he can. He will,” my father said.
Protect me from what?
From him?
From the world that already ruined my life?
“Mom died because she got involved. Believe it or not, she would still be alive if she stayed distant.”
For a split second, my father stared at me with pain in his eyes. Then he quickly switched to being the cold and strict father he was.
“It's for your own good, and my decision is final.” His voice cold as ice.
“Prepare yourself.”
My chest felt carved open.
My dreams. My future.
Everything I had planned for myself – gone.
“No, I won't marry him, Never!” I shot to my feet, grabbed my phone, and ran to my room without looking back.
The door slammed shut behind me as I collapsed onto the bed.
“Mom…”
Tears soaked into my pillow.
My fingers grasped the silk bedsheets.
“Dad wants to marry me off.”
Not to a man. To a monster.
I held on to the silver necklace that belonged to my mother. It was the only thing I had left of her.
Two years ago, my mother died in a shootout between rival mafia families.
She had been with my father that night.
I still remembered the coldness of her skin in the morgue. The sound of my father breaking apart beside me.
She never made it home.
“What should I do?” I laid on my bed facing the painted ceiling. My eyes were swollen.
I knew my father too well. He always did what he thought was right.
Something inside me told me that I couldn't escape, and resisting would only make things worse.
I lay on my bed, heart pounding as I fought the urge to search for his name.
But not knowing felt worse.
My fingers hovered over the screen for a second before typing: Alessandro De Luca
Headlines filled the screen.
Business mogul. Billionaire. Philanthropist.
He owned clubs, hotels, restaurants — pieces of the city that seemed impossible to escape.
Articles about his business empire kept popping up. Rumored mafia connections.
Whispers about violence. Rumors about his dangerous reputation. People said that anyone who had messed with him or even tried to challenge him in the past met a horrible end.
One article mentioned a politician who suddenly disappeared after publicly accusing him of corruption.
Another claimed a nightclub owner vanished overnight after refusing to sell one of his properties.
No evidence. No proof. Just rumors scattered across the internet like smoke.
But the fear people carried whenever they spoke about him felt real.
Terrifyingly real.
Nobody openly called him a criminal.
It was almost like the entire city feared saying the wrong thing about Alessandro De Luca.
That's absurd. How could someone like that walk freely among normal people?
My blood suddenly went cold as I kept reading on.
He had it all.
Power.
Money.
Influence.
I came across some photos of him leaving court and events but his face wasn't captured.
It was like he was a shadow. It felt like no one dared capture his face. Every photo captured only his back. Never his face.
I clicked on one image.
A black suit.
Broad shoulders.
A man stepping into a car surrounded by security.
Even through a blurry photo, something about him felt dangerous.
Controlled.
Cold.
The kind of man who never looked rushed because he didn't have to be. I zoomed in.
Nothing.
No clear face. No smile. Just shadows.
Why did that make him worse?
I locked my phone and tossed it beside me.The room suddenly felt smaller.
Harder to breathe in. Like the walls were closing in.Like my life had already started changing.
He didn’t feel human. He felt like the kind of man people obeyed before he even spoke.
Calm down, Ava.
You’re not married yet. You just need to find a way to convince dad. It should be easy… right?
My fingers tangled into my hair as I rolled across the bed. Nausea twisted violently in my stomach.
I needed Melissa like right now. I needed to vent out my frustration. But dragging her into this felt wrong.
I had to fix this myself, but I had no idea what to do.
Dad was barely at home. He dropped the bombshell and just left like he didn’t ruin my life.
Why would a man like Alessandro De Luca want me?
There was a faint knock at the door.
I ignored it.
Then the door swung open.
Mara, our house help who has lived with us for as long as I can remember, slowly walked into my room, hands behind her back with a calm smile.
“Dinner is ready,” she said softly.
“I'm not hungry,” I murmured. Staring at the ceiling.
“You haven't eaten anything since you came back from work,” her voice filled with worry.
My gaze finally lifted to her “It's okay.”
I'm really not hungry.”
A weak smile forced its way onto my lips.
"Can I ask you something?" She said.
I frowned.
"What?"
"Have you ever met Mr. De Luca before?"
"No."
Mara froze.
For a moment, she looked genuinely confused.
"Why are you asking?" I pressed.
Mara's fingers tightened around the edge of her apron.
For a moment, she looked like she was fighting with herself.
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Like she had almost said something she shouldn't.
Like she had almost revealed a secret she had been carrying for years.
Something about the fear in her eyes made my pulse quicken.
Because it was the same look she had worn the day we found out my mother was dead.
- Writer
