182
Emilia’s POV
The door to my room swung open, and Alonso stepped in, his presence as commanding as ever. I stood near the window, arms crossed, glaring at him. My heart hammered in my chest, but I refused to let him see how much he intimidated me.
“Alessandra,” he started, his tone too calm for my liking, “we need to talk.”
“Oh, now we need to talk?” I snapped, spinning to face him fully. “You’ve kept me locked up like a prisoner for days, and suddenly you’re interested in having a conversation?”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t raise his voice. “I’m protecting you. This is for your own safety.”
I scoffed, the sound bitter even to my own ears. “Safety? You call this safety? Trapping me here, refusing to let me leave, keeping me in the dark about everything?” I took a step closer, my voice rising with every word. “You’re no better than the men who kidnapped me!”
The flash of anger in his eyes was immediate, but he masked it quickly, folding his arms across his chest. “That’s a dangerous comparison, Alessandra. One I suggest you think twice about making.”
“No.” I shook my head, my hands trembling with a mix of fear and rage. “I won’t back down just because you’re used to people falling in line. You can intimidate everyone else, but I’m not going to sit here and play the obedient daughter you suddenly decided you wanted.”
Alonso exhaled sharply, his composure slipping. “You don’t understand the situation you’re in.”
“Then explain it to me!” I shouted. “All I know is that I was taken, beaten, and now you’re holding me here like I’m some pawn in whatever twisted game you’re playing with Alaric.”
His expression hardened at the mention of Alaric, and I saw the crack in his calm facade. “Alaric Castillo is dangerous. He’ll only bring you pain.”
“You don’t know him,” I said, my voice quieter but no less firm. “You think he’s dangerous? Fine. So are you. So are the men who dragged me into that van, and so are the ones who almost-” My voice broke, but I pushed through it. “So don’t you dare tell me you’re doing this out of love or concern for me. You’re no different than the people who hurt me.”
Alonso’s face softened for the first time, and he took a step closer. “Alessandra,” he began, his voice almost gentle, “I’m trying to protect you from a world you don’t fully understand. The Cruz family-your family-has enemies who would do far worse than what you’ve already endured. I won’t let that happen.”
“And yet here I am,” I said bitterly, gesturing to the room around me. “Locked away. Alone. Scared. How is this any better? You’re doing to me exactly what they did-taking away my freedom, treating me like an object instead of a person.”
“That’s not my intention,” he said, but there was a hesitation in his voice, a flicker of doubt that told me he knew I was right.
“Intentions don’t matter,” I countered. “Actions do. And your actions are telling me I’m just a possession to you-a name, a birthmark, a connection to whatever legacy you’re clinging to.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, but there was no anger, only something I couldn’t quite place. Regret, maybe. Or guilt.
“You’re my daughter,” he said after a long pause. “I can’t risk losing you again.”
I blinked, caught off guard by the raw emotion in his voice. For a moment, the anger in me wavered, replaced by something closer to pity. But I couldn’t let it sway me.
“I’m not asking you to lose me,” I said, my tone softening despite myself. “I’m asking you to trust me. To treat me like a human being, not a chess piece in whatever game you’re playing with Alaric.”
“It’s not a game,” he said quickly. “It’s survival.”
“Then let me survive my way,” I said firmly. “I’m not some helpless little girl, Alonso. I’ve lived my entire life without you, without knowing anything about the Cruz family or the dangers you’re so worried about. And guess what? I managed just fine.”
His lips pressed into a thin line, and he looked away for a moment, as if weighing his options.
“I’m not trying to control you,” he said finally, his voice low. “But I won’t let you run back to Alaric Castillo. Not while I know what he’s capable of.”
My stomach twisted at the mention of Alaric’s name, but I stood my ground. “You don’t get to decide that for me. You don’t get to make choices about my life just because we share blood.”
He looked back at me, his expression unreadable. “You don’t understand-”
“Then help me understand!” I interrupted, throwing my hands up in frustration. “Stop locking me up and keeping me in the dark. Talk to me. Explain things. Treat me like the adult I am, not some fragile little doll you can just shove into a glass case whenever the world gets too dangerous.”
For a moment, silence stretched between us, heavy and tense.
“I will give you answers,” he said finally, his tone measured. “But only when I feel it’s safe for you to know. And you are not leaving this villa until I’m certain you won’t run straight into danger.”
I stared at him, my blood boiling at his stubbornness. “You’re not listening to me,” I said through gritted teeth.
“I am,” he said, his voice infuriatingly calm. “But I’ve made my decision.”
I turned away, my fists clenched at my sides. The conversation was over as far as he was concerned, but for me, it was far from done.
If he thought I was going to sit quietly and let him dictate my life, he had another thing coming.
I paced the length of my room, my mind racing. The lock on the door had been reinforced, and the windows were too high to climb out of without risking a broken neck. I was trapped-for now.
But I wasn’t giving up.
If Alonso wanted me to stay here, he’d have to do more than lock a door. I was done being a pawn, a prisoner, a victim.
He wanted me to understand his world? Fine. But I’d do it on my terms, not his.