Page 20 of Until It Ends

His words hang in the air, suffocating me with their intensity. It's as if I'm transported back to the beginning, to the days when I was trapped between the desires of entitled men who believed they could shape my destiny as they pleased.

"Isn't this how this all started, Dante?" I counter, my voice tinged with frustration. "With entitled men who think the world belongs to them?"

There's a brief pause, and then he responds, his voice dripping with possession, "Not the world, Valeria. Just you, and anything else I want."

The line falls silent as I process his words. The gravity of the situation hits me like a tidal wave. I can't let history repeat itself, not when I've come so far in discovering my true self, in finding the strength to stand on my own.

In a moment of clarity, I hang up the phone and power it off. I can no longer allow myself to be controlled by the whims of others, to be seen as a possession to be claimed. I am more than that, and I refuse to be reduced to a mere object of desire. I just have to find my voice.

But am I strong enough?

Eighteen

Dante

I'm in the basement, sorting through documents and preparing for another business deal, when the heavy wooden door swings open with a slow creak. My father storms in, rage washing over him like a crimson tide. His face is twisted into an expression of anger.

I don't even know why he's mad and quite frankly, I don't care.

He claims he wants to shift back into the leadership role, but I don't see that happening. Since he barged back in here guns blazing, he hasn't done a damn thing but complain about the way I handle business around here.

"I wish you would let me do my work, seeing as how you're only capable of making phone calls these days," I blurt out, unable to hide my frustration. The tension in the room escalates with each passing moment.

"My phone calls will be what keeps our empire afloat, even while you're still making bad decisions," my father retorts, his voice dripping with disdain. The words pierce through me, hitting a nerve I have tried to ignore.

"What are you talking about?" I demand, my voice laced with anger. I want him to spill the details, to confront me directly instead of speaking in riddles.

"I know you charged into the Cipriano house without invitation in New Jersey. Just about everybody knows. Everyone on the council!" he replies, his tone stern and unforgiving. The room suddenly feels suffocating, the weight of his disappointment heavy upon me.

"Good," I say between clenched teeth. "I'm glad everyone knows about it."

"Do you know what would happen if you had murder Rocco Cipriano without approval?" he continues, his voice rising.

"Well, Rocco Cipriano and his father shouldn't steal things that don't belong to them," I retort defiantly, my fists clenching at my sides.

"That Valeria girl is a lost cause. She's old news. Let her go," my father says dismissively, his words cutting through me like a knife. "Just focus on keeping control of Veritas Mercantile. We've been pumping profits into that trading business for more than a decade. It rightfully belongs to us now, no matter what Polo says."

His words infuriate me. How can he simply brush aside Valeria's importance? She is everything to me, and I can't bear the thought of losing her.

"What do you think I'm trying to do, father?" I seethe, my voice trembling with suppressed rage. "Do you think I would just let it slip away from me?" I turn away from him, my jaw clenched tight.

My father approaches me, his hand gently patting my shoulder. I want to recoil from his touch, to push him away, but I don't. He is my father, and despite our differences, despite how he treated me in the past, there is still a bond that connects us.A very thin bond.

"Your judgment is currently compromised," he says softly, his voice filled with concern. "Let me handle the Ciprianos. You take care of something else while I put them in their place."

I spin around to face him, my eyes burning with intensity. "You won't do anything to Valeria," I warn, my voice low and threatening. The thought of anyone causing her harm ignites a fire within me, a protective instinct I can't ignore.

"Anything in my way will be fair game," my father declares, his tone resolute. His words strike me like a betrayal, a confirmation of his ruthlessness.

"And how is that any different from me confronting Rocco and the rest of them?" I challenge, my voice laced with defiance. I can't fathom his double standards, his willingness to resort to the same tactics he condemns me for.

My father locks eyes with me, his gaze unwavering. "And Valeria, what are your plans for her?" he asks, his voice laced with a hint of warning.

"Like I said, anyone who does anything to her will pay."

The words hang in the air, unspoken yet understood. I'll protect her at all costs, even if it means going against my own flesh and blood.

Silence envelops the basement as the weight of our conflicting ambitions and fierce loyalties settles upon us. It is a battle of wills, a clash of desires, and I know that the storm between us is far from over.

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