Chapter 8

• The heavy silence from Victoria’s revelation still lingered in the air like a thick fog, suffocating and unbearable. Dante had heard enough. His jaw clenched, his fingers curling into tight fists as his sharp gaze burned into Victoria. Without another word, he stormed out of the dining room, his heavy footsteps echoing through the halls.
• Elena sat frozen, her chest tightening. Her own family had abandoned her. Any hope she had foolishly clung to shattered at Victoria’s words. The fork in her hand trembled slightly before she placed it down with eerie calmness. She didn’t react. She couldn’t.
• Lorenzo smirked at her, watching her closely, his satisfaction evident. His fingers traced the rim of his wine glass as if he had been expecting this very moment. “Well,” he mused, taking a slow sip of his drink. “That answers that.” He referred to her parents selling her to him. He never wondered why they made that decision seeing she was their last daughter, but nevertheless he was not a man to worry about the situation of others, as long as everything worked in his favour.