Chapter 4 The Morning After

• Leona’s POV
• The next morning, the sun peeked through the thick curtains, casting gentle rays over the cold marble floor.
• I woke up alone. The silence in the room felt heavy after the events of the night.
• My mind was full of unanswered questions, but there was no time to think.
• The day would start with demands, plans, and a new reality I could not change.
• I heard soft footsteps in the hallway. The servants had come to prepare breakfast.
• The door to the next room creaked open. Still in my nightgown, I felt like a stranger in my own life.
• When I entered the next room, I saw my wedding ring on the night stand. The black diamond sparkled mockingly, reminding me of the power Lucien now had over me.
• I walked to the window and looked out at the mansion’s beautiful grounds. In the distance, I could see a small part of the city—a place I had only heard about before.
• This place felt so far from the life I was used to having. The life I would never have again.
• A light knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.
• "Come in," I called, turning away from the window.
• One of the maids entered. She was a young girl, barely older than me. She carried a tray with breakfast: fresh fruit, pastries, and coffee.
• "Mrs Moretti," she said softly, placing the tray on the table.
• "Your husband sent this."
• I remained silent as the girl quickly left. Lucien had sent my breakfast, as if this was a normal marriage.
• As if I could forget the cold war that had started the moment they exchanged vows.
• I sat at the table and picked at my food, though my stomach churned.
• Her mind kept drifting back to last night—the strange mixture of coldness and control in Lucien’s presence.
• He made me feel small, but also challenged me in a way no one ever had.
• Another knock at the door surprised me. I stood and moved aside as Lucien entered.
• He wore dark jeans and a plain black shirt that showed off his strength.
• But it was the way he moved and how he looked at me that made my stomach tighten.
• "I hope you slept well," he said casually, as if we were not in an arranged marriage.
• Couldn’t trust my voice. Instead, I took a slow sip of coffee, letting the bitterness ground me.
• "I haven’t decided yet," I finally replied, my voice steady, even though my heart raced.
• Lucien’s lips curled slightly. "You’ll decide when you’re ready."
• He stood there for a moment, filling the room with a coldness that felt real.
• "Don’t keep me waiting long," he said, his voice low.
• Then, just like that, he was gone.
• My heart raced, and my thoughts spun in chaos. What was this? Was this a game to him? A test?
• My reflection in the mirror showed a woman I didn’t recognise.
• What had I become?
• —
• Lucien's POV
• I stood in front of my penthouse's large windows, watching Palermo rise up in the wan sun.
• The city came alive with honking cars, hawkers shouting in the street, and the soft tinkle of church bells in the distance.
• None of it reached me.
• My gaze was fixed on the villa below—my new domain. A marble fortress built of silence, where a frightened bird now sat, caught in my web. Leona.
• I replayed the night before in my mind—the way she walked, cautious but defiant; the flicker of fire behind her guarded eyes.
• She was not like the others. Not like the broken, terrified girls I used before.
• No.
• She was not like them.
• I sipped carefully of black, bitter espresso, pacing with his acutely incisive mind.
• I had calculated his revenge carefully. Every step calculated, every piece in place like pawns on a board that spanned years.
• But Leona…
• She was unpredictable.
• Her presence destabilised the cold control I revelled in.
• I had devoted my life to mastering control over enemies, over my kingdom, and over myself.
• But with her, control slipped through my fingers like water.
• My assistant had brought the reports early that morning:
• Valencia Shipping's in-house accounts were slowly being rewritten, their stockholders confused but oblivious.
• Their security personnel had shallow cracks; a few key men were already in my pocket.
• Leona's friends – her closest friends – were watched, their loyalty put to the test.
• I permitted myself a rare smile.
• The trap was baited.
• But what if the quarry turned out stronger than I had expected?
• I closed my eyes and recalled the moment when our eyes had locked when she'd confronted me, seen the cage I had constructed around myself, and didn't retreat.
• It was not safe to show someone your weaknesses.
• Dare to challenge you.
• The thought roiled in my stomach.
• I pushed it aside.
• Revenge wasn't about feelings. Revenge was about justice.
• Justice for a destroyed family.
• For a lost father.
• For a stolen legacy.
• And yet…
• Leona's presence was trouble enough.
• One I hadn't expected.
• I shifted away from the glass.
• My empire was waiting.
• His vendetta required focus.
• But so did the woman who wasn't going to be another pawn.
• I wouldn't lose this game.
• Not to her.
• Not to anyone.
• I sat alone in his study. The dim glow of a desk lamp cast long shadows throughout the room.
• The smell of old leather and good whisky filled the air. This was reassuring to me with its order, as opposed to the turmoil which had characterised his life.
• I drew out a drawer and pulled out a small, frayed photograph. The corners were creased and the ink faded, but the image was crisp.
• A young boy—about eight years old—stood beside a man. The man wore a proud but haunted smile. That was my father.
• I stroked the outline of my father's face with a finger, my jaw set with tension. My father was a good man in an evil world.
• He believed in justice, in family, and in loyalty. He died believing in them.
• I remembered the night of the fire—the screams, the fire, and the searing heat that engulfed my home and tore my family apart.
• My mother managed to escape with me and my sister, but my father stayed behind to face his enemies by himself. He stayed to protect us.
• I had been too young to understand the utter betrayal, but I remembered the silence that followed.
• I remembered discussions of betrayal from their own line and the gradual disintegration of the Valencia family.
• Most importantly, I learnt that trust was something that I could not permit myself.
• I clenched my fists. That night defined me. It made me ruthless, and it made me a king born from embers.
• But revenge wasn't merely about restoring power. It was about getting back at those who destroyed my family—each and every one of them.
• And thus, the key to that revenge faced me: Leona. She was my enemy's daughter, my bird in a cage, and my mistake.
• Before her cold stare and calculated movements, I knew one thing I wouldn't take responsibility for: I was already losing myself.