Part 11:

When he pulled back, they were both breathing hard, his forehead resting against hers, and Seline forced the question past the tightness in her throat. What do they want from my father? Alessandro’s jaw tightened, his hand still cradling her face. Information that keeps the Lombardi and Moretti family standing.

Details you don’t need to know. His thumb traced her cheekbone with aching slowness. But I won’t let them use you as leverage to get it. That’s all you need to understand. Panic clawed up Seline’s throat, her breath coming faster as the implications crashed over her. If I’m not the leverage, then how will they get what they want from him? Aleandro’s silence was answer enough, and her eyes widened with dawning horror, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

“They’re going to hurt him, aren’t they?” Aleandro pulled her closer, his arms tightening around her shaking body, his voice dropping to something calmer, more controlled. “I’m trying to make sure that doesn’t happen. I need you to calm down and trust me. He paused, his breath warm against her temple.

But there will be sacrifices, things you’re better off not knowing. Seline’s entire body trembled with fear she couldn’t control, her voice coming out sharper than intended. Where are you taking me? Aleandro smoothed her hair back from her face, his touch gentle despite the steel in his voice. There’s an island off the coast, Corsica.

I have a secret small villa there, completely off the grid. No one will find you.” She pulled back enough to meet his eyes, searching his face for answers he wasn’t giving. “And the plan? What’s the plan? Aleandro?” He leaned close until his mouth was against her ear, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper.

“You’re going to marry me.” Selene’s breath stopped completely, shock rendering her motionless, and when she finally found her voice, it came out strangled. What? Alessandro pulled back to meet her eyes, his expression serious, controlled, absolute, one hand, sliding to the back of her neck to hold her gaze to his. If you become mine, officially, legally mine, then you become family.

His grip tightened fractionally, and no one touches family without starting a war they can’t win. The car wound through Corsica’s coastal roads as dawn broke over the Mediterranean, painting everything golden pink. But Seline saw none of it, just stared out the window with tear swollen eyes, her mind a chaos of fear and disbelief.

Alessandro’s hand found hers on the seat between them, his fingers lacing through hers with gentle insistence. She didn’t pull away, didn’t respond, just let her hand lie limp in his. His phone rang, the screen lighting up with a name that made Selen’s stomach clench. Giani. Is that him? Her voice came out flat, emotionless.

The one who wants to hurt my father. Who wants to hurt me? Aleandro declined the call and tucked the phone away, his grip on her hand, tightening. No one is going to hurt you. Seline finally turned to look at him, anger cutting through the numbness. Where are we going? The villa. Alessandro met her eyes, his expression unreadable.

We have something urgent to take care of first. Then we’ll go home. The car stopped in front of a municipal building, pale stone and morning light, and Alessandro came around to open her door, offering his hand. Selene stared at the building’s entrance, at the official seal above the door, and understanding crashed over her like cold water. We’re doing it now.

Right now? Aleandro’s voice came quiet but firm as he helped her from the car. It needs to be immediate. She pulled back slightly, panic rising. But my documents, my passport, I don’t have I have everything. His hand found the small of her back guiding her forward. It’s all arranged. The ceremony took 15 minutes. A sparse office.

An official who asked no questions. Papers signed with hands that shook. And then they were walking back into the sunlight as husband and wife. Seline jerked her hand away when Aleandro reached for it, her voice sharp with hurt she couldn’t control. This is just a formality, just paperwork to keep me safe.

Tears burned behind her eyes. I always wanted to marry for love. This means nothing to me. Aleandro caught her wrist, stopping her in the middle of the street and pulled her back to face him. I’m sorry it had to be this way. His other hand rose to cup her face, his thumb brushing her cheekbone.

But even if circumstances were different, having you as my wife would still be the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Don’t forget that. The villa sat on a gentle slope overlooking the sea, modest compared to Alessandro’s Monaco estate, all white stone and terracotta with a small pool catching the afternoon light. Inside everything was cream and camel tones, simple elegance, and a breeze from the open windows stirred Selen’s hair as she stood in the middle of the living room, feeling displaced from her own life.

“I need to talk to my father,” she said without looking at Aleandro. His voice came from behind her, careful and controlled. “I need to arrange some things first. Make sure the lines are secure. Then you can speak to him.” Seline turned to face him. Exhaustion and fear and anger all tangled together. When soon? Aleandro moved closer, his expression softening fractionally.

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