180
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 have let this happen? One moment, I was enduring hell in a dank hideout, and the next, Alonso Cruz was calling me his daughter and dragging me into a gilded prison.
My real father.
A bitter laugh bubbled up, unbidden. The man who claimed to have my best interests at heart was the same one keeping me away from the only person who mattered-Alaric.
I stopped pacing abruptly, staring at the large window at the end of the hall. Moonlight streamed through the glass, casting shadows across the floor. If the door wouldn’t work, maybe the window would.
Ten minutes later, I stood on the edge of the balcony, gauging the drop below. My pulse raced as I gripped the railing.
“This is crazy,” I muttered to myself. “Stupid, reckless…”
But what choice did I have? Alonso’s men wouldn’t let me leave willingly. My best shot was to find a way out myself and figure out where I was.
Taking a deep breath, I swung one leg over the railing, gripping it tightly as I prepared to lower myself. The cool night air bit at my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. My arms burned from the strain, but I didn’t stop. Freedom was within reach-
“What the hell are you doing?!”
The sharp voice startled me, and I slipped, dangling precariously. Strong hands clamped around my waist, hauling me back onto the balcony before I could fall.
“Are you insane?” Alonso’s voice was a mix of anger and disbelief as he set me down roughly.
“Let me go!” I shoved at him, but he didn’t budge. His dark eyes bore into mine, unyielding.
“You could’ve killed yourself!”
“Good! Maybe that’s the only way I’ll ever get away from you!” I shot back, tears stinging my eyes. My legs shook beneath me, a combination of adrenaline and exhaustion, but I refused to back down.
Alonso’s expression shifted, a flicker of something-regret? Guilt?-crossing his features before he hardened again.
“You’re not leaving, Alessandra.” His voice was calm but firm, like he was talking to a rebellious child.
“You don’t get to decide that!” I snapped. “You think you can waltz into my life, drop this ‘I’m your father’ bomb, and keep me here against my will? You don’t even know me!”
Alonso’s jaw clenched. “I know enough to understand that going back to Alaric Castillo will only get you killed.”
“Don’t you dare bring him into this!” My voice cracked. “Alaric is the only one who’s ever cared about me. And you-” I gestured around wildly-“You’ve done nothing but tear me away from everything I love!”
Alonso stepped closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over me. “You don’t understand the danger you’re in, Alessandra. The Castillo family has been our enemy for decades. Alaric-he’s dangerous.”
“You don’t know him!”
“And you do?” His voice softened, but the words cut deep. “You think he’s some knight in shining armor? He’s a mafia king, Alessandra. His hands are as bloody as mine.”
“Maybe so,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. “But he’s never hurt me. He’s never lied to me.”
I didn’t care how sharp the meaning was. Or if it hurt him at all.
Alonso exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m trying to protect you. Whether you believe it or not, you’re my daughter, and I won’t let you walk back into the arms of a man who will destroy you.”
His words only fanned the flames of my anger. “You don’t get to decide who I love.”
“You’re not leaving,” he repeated, his tone final.
My chest tightened as he turned and barked an order to the guards. Moments later, I was back in the room he’d assigned me, the lock clicking into place behind me.
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the door in disbelief. The events of the past week played on a loop in my mind-being taken, beaten, finding out Alonso was my father, and now this.
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. “Miss Alessandra?” It was the maid, Rosetta, her voice gentle.
“What?” I snapped, not in the mood for company.
The door opened slightly, and Rosetta slipped inside, carrying a tray of food. “You need to eat,” she said, setting it down on the bedside table.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You haven’t eaten since this morning.”
“I said I’m not hungry!”
Rosetta hesitated before sitting down beside me. She was older, with kind eyes that reminded me of someone I couldn’t quite place. “You’ve been through a lot,” she said quietly. “But Alonso… he’s not as bad as he seems.”
I shot her a look. “He locked me in a room.”
“He’s scared,” Rosetta said simply. “He lost you once. He doesn’t want to lose you again.”
Her words gave me pause, but I quickly brushed the sentiment aside. “That doesn’t give him the right to control me.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Rosetta admitted. “But maybe, instead of fighting him, you should try talking to him. Alonso isn’t a monster, Alessandra. He’s just a father trying to protect his child.”
I scoffed. “Some father.”
Rosetta patted my hand before standing. “Think about it,” she said, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I stared out the window, watching the stars blink against the inky sky. Rosetta’s words lingered, gnawing at the edges of my anger.
Maybe she was right. Maybe Alonso wasn’t a monster. But he wasn’t my father either-not really.
If he wanted a relationship with me, he’d have to earn it. And locking me away like a prized possession wasn’t the way to start.
I wasn’t going to let him control me. Not now. Not ever.
Tomorrow, I’d confront him on my terms. And he’d have to listen.