178

178
Emilia’s POV
The world around me felt like it had dissolved into static. My body moved because Alonso’s men pulled me forward, their grips firm but not cruel. I stumbled over my own feet, too stunned to resist, too dazed to speak.
The blood-streaked room was now behind us, but its horrors stayed lodged in my mind: the gunshots, the bodies, Alonso’s fury. And then there was the name. Alessandra. My name. According to him.
“This way,” one of the men grunted, guiding me toward a sleek black SUV parked just outside the warehouse.
I yanked my arm out of his grasp, finding a shred of my voice through the haze of confusion and fear. “Don’t touch me!”
He raised his hands in surrender, glancing at Alonso, who stood a few feet away, watching me. “It’s for your safety,” the man muttered, stepping back.
“Safety?” I snapped, my voice trembling. “You just killed three people in front of me. How the hell is this safe?”
Alonso approached then, his expression unreadable. His tailored suit, still immaculate despite the carnage he’d caused, made him look more like a businessman than a murderer.
“Alessandra,” he said softly, his tone at odds with the violence I’d just witnessed.
“Stop calling me that!” I shouted, taking a step back.
He sighed, his jaw tightening as he rubbed a hand across his face. “You’ll understand in time,” he said. “But for now, you need to trust me.”
“Trust you?” I laughed bitterly, my chest heaving with the effort to keep my panic at bay. “You kidnapped me, killed people in front of me, and now you’re telling me I’m your… your daughter?”
He stepped closer, and I flinched. Something flickered in his eyes-regret, maybe, or frustration-but his voice was steady when he spoke.
“You don’t have to believe me right now,” he said. “But I promise you, Alessandra, I will explain everything. Just not here.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to quell the tremors that had taken hold of my body. “Where are you taking me?”
“To my villa,” he said simply, as if that explained everything. “You’ll be safe there.”
I wanted to argue, to demand answers right then and there, but my mind was spinning too fast to form coherent thoughts. The memory of his matching birthmark flashed through my head, and a part of me-a small, terrified part-wondered if he could actually be telling the truth.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I said finally, my voice shaky but firm.
“You don’t have a choice,” Alonso said, his tone turning cold. “I won’t risk losing you again.”
His words sent a chill down my spine. He gestured to his men, who moved toward me again.
“Don’t touch her,” he ordered sharply, and they stopped in their tracks. He turned back to me. “Please, Alessandra,” he said, his voice softening again. “I’m trying to protect you.”
I hesitated, my instincts warring with my exhaustion. If I refused, what would he do? If I went, what would he do?
Reluctantly, I allowed myself to be guided into the SUV, my body stiff and unyielding. Alonso climbed in beside me, his presence dominating the confined space.
The ride was silent except for the hum of the engine. I kept my eyes on the window, watching the city blur past as I tried to make sense of the last few hours.
“Why now?” I asked suddenly, breaking the silence. My voice was small, but the question burned in my throat. “If I’m really your daughter, why wait until now to find me?”
Alonso didn’t answer immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and measured.
“I’ve been looking for you since the day you were taken,” he said. “But the people who took you were clever. They hid you well.”
His words sparked something in me-anger, confusion, maybe even fear. “So what, you just decided to kill people to get to me?”
“They disrespected you,” he said simply, as if that justified everything.
I stared at him, my mind racing. This man was a stranger to me, yet he spoke as if he had some claim over my life.
“I don’t need your protection,” I said quietly, my voice laced with bitterness.
He turned to me then, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “You don’t understand what kind of world you’re part of now,” he said. “But you will.”
I looked away, my chest tightening.
The car pulled up to a massive villa, its walls pristine white and gates wrought-iron. Alonso stepped out first, holding the door open for me.
“Welcome home,” he said.
“This isn’t my home,” I muttered, but I followed him inside anyway.
The interior of the villa was just as extravagant as the exterior-marble floors, high ceilings, and chandeliers that sparkled like diamonds. It felt cold, sterile, and utterly unwelcoming.
“Rosetta,” Alonso called out, and a woman appeared almost instantly. She was older, with kind eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor.
“Yes, sir?”
“Take Alessandra to a guest room,” he said. “Make sure she has everything she needs.”
Rosetta turned to me, her expression softening. “This way, dear,” she said gently.
I hesitated, glancing back at Alonso. He gave me a nod, his expression unreadable.
“Go,” he said. “I’ll give you time to settle in before we talk.”
I followed Rosetta up the sweeping staircase, my legs feeling like lead. She led me to a spacious room with a king-sized bed, a balcony, and an en suite bathroom that was bigger than my entire apartment.
“There are fresh clothes in the wardrobe,” she said, gesturing to a set of doors. “And if you need anything, just ring this bell.”
“Thank you,” I said quietly, though the words felt hollow.
She left, closing the door behind her, and I was alone.
I sank onto the edge of the bed, my hands trembling as I tried to process everything. My life had been ripped apart in a matter of days, and I didn’t know how to piece it back together.