Chapter 5 The Girl Who Changed Fate
1328 Words
The cybercafé door swung shut behind Francesca as she stepped into the chilly evening air.
She rubbed her temples.
"So the Romano family..."
The name still made her stomach twist.
Her research had answered one question only to create ten more.
The snake wrapped around a dagger—the tattoo branded on every man who had assaulted her in her previous life—belonged to an underground organization tied to the Romano Group.
Officially, the Romanos were respected businessmen.
Unofficially...
Nothing.
Every article praised their charity work, luxury hotels, political donations, and billion-euro empire.
Not a single word about human trafficking.
Not a single word about murder.
"They erased everything..."
Francesca whispered.
If someone that powerful wanted her dead...
...the police could never protect her.
She needed someone even stronger.
Her thoughts drifted back to the mysterious luxury car.
The man who had warned her before her death.
The plate...
D'AMICO.
She had searched it immediately.
The D'Amico family.
The only family powerful enough to rival the Romanos.
Antonio D'Amico...
How am I supposed to find you?
Before she could think further—
"THIEF!"
A woman's scream shattered the street.
Everyone turned.
A little blonde girl sat on the pavement while a middle-aged woman grabbed her wrist.
"You stole my wallet!"
The girl only shook her head desperately.
"Speak!"
"I said speak!"
The woman raised her hand.
Francesca rushed forward.
"Stop!"
The slap never landed.
The woman glared.
"This has nothing to do with you."
Francesca ignored her.
Instead she looked at the child.
Designer shoes.
Custom-made coat.
Limited-edition bracelet.
Nothing about her looked poor.
A child dressed like that wouldn't need to steal a wallet.
Unless...
...someone wanted money from her family.
Francesca narrowed her eyes.
"You made the whole story up."
"What?"
"She's wearing clothes worth thousands of euros."
She pointed calmly.
"Someone like her has no reason to steal from you."
The woman's face stiffened.
"And you keep changing your story."
"You first said she stole your purse."
"Now it's your wallet."
"You've been lying from the beginning."
The surrounding crowd began whispering.
"I... I..."
The woman stepped back nervously.
Francesca smiled.
"I think you're the thief."
The woman cursed before shoving through the crowd and running away.
Francesca sighed.
Coward.
She turned toward the little girl.
"Are you alright?"
The girl simply stared.
Then—
Grrrrrr...
Her stomach growled.
Francesca blinked.
The girl covered her face in embarrassment.
Despite everything...
Francesca laughed.
"I guess that's a yes."
---
The diner wasn't expensive.
Thankfully.
Francesca had already paid her mother's hospital bill.
What remained of her paycheck wasn't much.
Still...
One decent meal wouldn't kill her.
"What would you like?"
The little girl pointed at the biggest cheeseburger on the menu.
Francesca smiled.
"Two of those."
Minutes later...
The girl devoured the burger like someone who hadn't eaten all day.
Francesca couldn't help smiling.
Strange...
Watching someone else eat made her happier than spending money on Carlos ever had.
The little girl suddenly tapped her shoulder.
Then signed slowly.
Thank you.
Francesca froze.
"You..."
"You know sign language?"
The girl nodded.
Then pointed at herself before shaking her head.
She couldn't speak.
"So that's why..."
Francesca whispered.
"No wonder you didn't defend yourself."
The girl's bright eyes dimmed.
She signed again.
People call me weird.
They laugh at me.
Francesca stared for several seconds.
She understood that feeling.
More than anyone.
"When I was younger..."
"My father died."
"My mother fell into a coma."
"I spent years moving from one foster home to another."
"The only people who treated me kindly were people society ignored."
She smiled softly.
"The homeless."
"The disabled."
"The forgotten."
"They taught me sign language."
"They also taught me something much more important."
The little girl tilted her head.
Francesca leaned closer.
"You don't need everyone's approval."
"If someone laughs at you..."
"Let them."
"If someone calls you strange..."
"So what?"
"The people who matter..."
"...will stay."
The little girl's eyes slowly filled with tears.
Then—
She smiled.
A genuine smile.
Francesca smiled back.
"There you are."
---
As they stepped outside—
"MISS VITTORIA!"
A frantic man rushed toward them.
He looked ready to collapse from exhaustion.
He immediately checked the little girl for injuries.
"Are you alright?"
The girl frowned.
Instead of running to him...
She hid behind Francesca.
The man froze.
"...Miss Vittoria?"
Francesca stepped forward.
"Who are you?"
"I'm here to take her home."
"That's exactly what a kidnapper would say."
The man blinked.
"What?"
"You heard me."
Francesca crossed her arms.
"She clearly doesn't want to go with you."
The man sighed deeply.
"I've been searching the entire city."
"Please."
"We need to return."
"Not happening."
The two continued arguing until—
"Vittoria."
A deep voice echoed behind them.
Everything became silent.
The little girl immediately smiled.
She ran.
Straight into the arms of a tall man dressed in a black suit.
He lifted her effortlessly.
His sharp features remained cold...
But the way he held the child was unexpectedly gentle.
Francesca's eyes widened.
No way...
The assistant.
The luxury car.
The warning.
And—
Antonio D'Amico.
She had found him.
Antonio turned to leave.
Francesca's heart raced.
If she let him disappear now...
She might never find him again.
"Antonio!"
Everyone froze.
The assistant nearly dropped the shopping bags he was carrying.
Antonio slowly turned around.
No one...
Absolutely no one...
Called him by his first name.
His cold gaze settled on Francesca.
"You know me?"
Francesca swallowed.
"I..."
"I need your help."
---
Fifteen minutes later...
Francesca found herself inside the D'Amico headquarters.
Even after seeing it once in her previous life...
She was still speechless.
The marble floors.
The priceless paintings.
The silence.
Everything screamed power.
Antonio sat behind an enormous desk.
His expression unreadable.
"You wanted my help."
Francesca nodded.
"I know about the Romano family."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
She continued.
"They're involved in human trafficking."
"And many other crimes."
"I need someone powerful enough to stop them."
Antonio listened quietly.
When she finally finished—
He asked only one question.
"What proof do you have?"
Francesca fell silent.
She couldn't tell him she had died.
She couldn't explain reincarnation.
"I..."
"I can't tell you."
Antonio stood.
"Then our conversation is over."
Francesca's heart sank.
"Please—"
"You've wasted enough of my time."
He walked toward the door.
Without another glance.
Simon escorted her downstairs.
"I'm sorry."
"Young Master doesn't trust strangers."
Francesca forced a smile.
"I understand."
Maybe...
I moved too quickly.
---
An hour later...
Francesca wandered through a shopping district.
She had decided to spend a little money on herself for once.
No oversized sweaters.
No worn-out shoes.
No Carlos.
Just...
Her.
She smiled.
It felt nice.
Until...
She noticed the black van.
Again.
It had followed her for three streets.
Her smile disappeared.
No...
They're here already.
She turned suddenly.
The van accelerated.
Men jumped out.
"Grab her!"
Francesca ran.
People screamed.
Footsteps thundered behind her.
Someone grabbed her arm.
She struggled.
Another man lifted a wooden bat.
Just before it struck—
CRACK!
The attacker flew sideways.
Several black-clad men surrounded the kidnappers.
The fight erupted instantly.
Within seconds...
Bodies littered the pavement.
One desperate kidnapper seized Francesca.
Using her as a shield.
"Stay back!"
Antonio stepped forward.
His eyes were colder than ice.
The man swung the bat toward Francesca.
Antonio moved first.
He pulled her sharply into his chest.
The bat slammed against his arm instead.
Before the attacker could react—
Antonio knocked him unconscious with a single punch.
Silence.
Francesca stared up at him.
His arm remained around her waist.
His hand touched her skin.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Simon suddenly shouted,
"Young Master!"
Antonio didn't move.
His expression slowly changed.
Confusion.
Disbelief.
Then genuine shock.
"...Impossible."
He looked down at the woman still in his arms.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"I'm..."
He stopped.
His fingers tightened ever so slightly around her waist.
"...not allergic to you."
- Writer
