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Emilia’s POV
The heavy, ornate doors of Alonso Cruz’s villa loomed ahead as I marched toward them, every step fueled by a mix of defiance and desperation. My chest heaved, not from exertion, but from the rage simmering beneath my skin. Alonso’s words still rang in my ears: “You’re not going anywhere, Emilia. This is your home now.” Home? The absurdity of it made me want to scream.
I wasn’t staying here.
“Open the door!” I yelled, my voice reverberating through the marble hall. Two guards exchanged a look but didn’t budge.
“Let me out!” My fists pounded against the wood, the sound echoing like a gavel in a courtroom. The verdict was clear: I was trapped.
When it became apparent they weren’t going to comply, I turned, pacing like a caged animal. My thoughts spiraled. How could I ha
