Chapter 48

The days passed quietly. Ana healed steadily, but without Harry who had traveled for urgent business. The house felt empty. Her days were spent quietly painting or chatting with Kimberly. But elsewhere, trouble brewed.

A black Mercedes-Benz pulled up in front of a heavily guarded warehouse. The guards at the gate stopped short when a woman stepped out dressed in a sleek black dress that hugged her body like a glove. A wide-brimmed hat veiled her face, but her aura was undeniable. Sophisticated. Dangerous.

The guards straightened, mouths agape as she strode confidently to them.

"I want to speak with your boss. Tell him I have important business to discuss," she said coolly.

One of the guards scurried inside and soon found Mr. Smith, who was reclining in his chair, a cigar in hand.

"Sir, there's a woman outside asking to speak with you. Says it's important business."

Smith grumbled, not even looking up.

"Is it my little kitty?"

"No, sir. But… she looks like she's from a rich family," the guard added quickly.

That caught his attention.

"A rich family's young lady, you say? Bring her in."

Moments later, Sasha entered. She slowly removed her hat, revealing her flawless face and confident eyes.

Smith's brows lifted in appreciation.

"Well, well. What a rare beauty. How may I be of service to you, my lady?"

Sasha's lips curled into a cold smile.

"I came to help you reunite with Ana Lyle. I heard she's your… lover?"

Mr. Smith's cigar dropped slightly from his lips, eyes wide with surprise.

"You know where my little kitty is?" he asked eagerly, rising from his seat.

All this time, he had searched relentlessly for her whereabouts but it was as if she has disappeared from the face of the earth. He couldn't find a trace of her at all , giving him endless nights

"That depends," Sasha said, voice low and seductive.

"Are you willing to make a deal with the devil to get her back?"

Smith's eyes narrowed, curiosity and greed lighting them up.

"You've got my attention, Miss…?"

"Sasha. Sasha Famazani," she said, extending her hand with a smile as cold as a knife.

"Let's talk about a plan."

And just like that, the snake slithered into play.

It was raining.

S City

The sky wept with a sorrow that mirrored the still, heavy grief lingering in the air. The cemetery was silent except for the soft patter of rain on gravestones and the rhythmic swish of trees bending to the wind.

A tall man stood in front of a pair of graves, his presence as haunting as the stormy gray sky above. His tailored black suit clung slightly to his form, and his soaked hair fell messily over his forehead. His sharp jaw was clenched tightly, eyes cold and unreadable.

"Mr and Mrs Griffiths" The gravestones read. Below, etched in neat cursive, were the words: "Forever missed. Forever loved."

Adonis didn't flinch. He just stood there, hands in his pockets, as if the rain couldn't touch him.

Aaron stood silently a few steps behind, holding an umbrella over Adonis's head. His expression was solemn, eyes flicking between Adonis and the gravestones. The wind howled softly, pulling at the ends of his coat.

After a long, suffocating silence, Adonis finally turned.

"Let's go," he said, his voice low and gravelly, almost hoarse as if speaking had cost him something.

Aaron quickly opened the back door of the sleek black Mercedes, and Adonis slipped inside without another word. As the car pulled away from the cemetery, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched long and heavy, only broken by the faint hum of the tires on the wet road.

Lhoman Mansion.

The large ornate doors were flung open just as the car arrived. Mr. Lhoman stood on the front steps, grinning like a man who had waited a decade for this day.

"My boy! You're finally back! My goodness, look at you!" he said, his arms spread wide in welcome.

Adonis stepped out of the car with his usual stoicism, eyes flicking once over Mr. Lhoman before continuing toward the entrance without a word.

Unbothered by the cold reception, Mr. Lhoman chuckled heartily and followed after him. "I knew you'd come back eventually. The past has a strange way of drawing us home, doesn't it?"

Inside, the mansion was warm, polished to perfection, and eerily quiet. Mr. Lhoman led him down the hall.

"She's upstairs," he said gently, for once lowering his voice. "Still holding on. I... I talk to her every day. But maybe she was waiting for you... Alessandro."

Adonis flinched slightly at the name. He didn't respond.

Mr. Lhoman pushed open a door at the end of the corridor.

The room was dim, smelling faintly of lavender and antiseptic. In the middle of the room lay a frail woman, her skin pale, her hair gray and thin. Tubes and machines surrounded her bed, blinking quietly.

"Rachel," Mr. Lhoman said softly, walking over and taking the woman's hand. "Look who's here. It's your Alessandro."

Adonis stood rooted at the door, staring at the fragile figure on the bed. His hands curled into fists.

His lips parted, but no sound came out. He took one step forward, then another... and stopped.

"Rachel…" Mr Lhoman whispered, barely audible.

Mr. Lhoman stood beside him, beaming. "She always loved you, Alessandro. She never stopped. You'll take care of her now, won't you?"

But Adonis's face twisted, ever so slightly. He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening.

"She doesn't even know who I am anymore," he said darkly.

"Nonsense!" Mr. Lhoman waved his hand. "She's just... asleep. She'll wake up when she senses your presence. I know it."

The sound of Mr. Lhoman's voice cooing, tender felt like nails grating against his skin.

Something cracked behind his eyes. His jaw tightened. His breathing became shallow.

Without a word, he turned on his heels and strode out of the room, ignoring Mr. Lhoman's confused call after him.

Outside the mansion, the rain had eased to a soft drizzle.

Adonis stumbled into the open air like a man clawing his way out of a collapsing mine. He yanked his tie loose violently, gasping for breath as he leaned against the stone railing.

"Breathe," he muttered to himself, pounding his fist against his chest. "Breathe, damn it!"

His breaths came out ragged, his body trembling.

He fell to his knees, his head bowed low as his palms hit the wet tiles.

Aaron, who had been waiting silently nearby, finally stepped forward.

"Master," he said gently, crouching down beside him. "You okay?"

Adonis didn't look up.