His Villain

30

Four days later.....

Dalia's return to Celia's life had brought a whirlwind of emotions and somewhat comfort. Celia, wanting to maintain a distance from Dalia's brother, Venezio, had spent most of her time with her, hoping to avoid any further complications during her stay.

Yesterday, Dalia shared her thrilling experiences in Paris with Celia, excitedly discussing the imminent launch of her fashion brand in the fourteenth country this year. Becoming one of the youngest billionaires in history, she had accomplished remarkable success through her brand's expansion across different nations.

As tomorrow marked Dalia's twenty-sixth birthday, her brothers were planning a grand celebration, commemorating her new journey in life. However, amidst the anticipation and festivity, Celia couldn't shake off an unknown feeling that nestled deep in her gut. It was as if she sensed something unpleasant looming on the horizon, waiting to unfold.

In the quiet hours past midnight, within the Italian confines of the D'Amico Cassano family mansion, the house had settled into slumber, preparing for the upcoming evening. Yet, a single room stood defiantly aglow, its white light casting an eerie contrast against the darkness that enveloped the mansion.

Though silence had embraced the mansion, the sharp clicks of heels disrupted its tranquility. The sound grew nearer, leading to a particular room. With an audacious knock, the lady boldly swung the door open without waiting for the owner's permission. The room, veiled in darkness, concealed the closed door of the bathroom, denying entry to the invading light.

She stepped forward, a sense of anticipation fueling her movements as she approached the bed. The sleeping figure lay undisturbed beneath the covers. With a swift motion, she seized the duvet and yanked it away, startling the sleeping beauty into an alarmed shriek. The lady rolled her eyes, swiftly placing her palm over Celia's mouth to silence her. "Shhhh," she whispered, and relief washed over Celia as she recognized the voice of his assistant, Alessia.

"Get up!" Alessia commanded, removing her hand and straightening her posture.

Celia questioned, "Why?"

"Don." Alessia's tone carried a weight that conveyed her reluctance to elaborate. She didn't want to go there, to face him. However, she knew that if she refused, he would unleash something terrible upon her.

Celia realized the predicament she had unwittingly entangled herself in. Reluctantly, she rose from the bed, slipping on her flats, and followed Alessia's lead. "You should have woken me up with a gentle pat or shake," Celia remarked. Alessia halted abruptly and turned, raising an eyebrow. "Are you a baby in need of coddling?" she retorted.

"The way you woke me up could have given me a heart attack. It's highly inappropriate."

"Good! Would have gotten rid of you by now," Alessia smirked.

Celia feigned sadness, her eyes brimming with sympathy. "Oh, you've wounded my feelings, lady," she lamented.

"Like I care?"

Celia replied with a touch of sarcasm, "Of course, you do."

Alessia's retort was swift. "No, I don't."

In silence, they continued their journey, eventually arriving at his office door. Alessia knocked, waiting for his permission. Upon receiving it, they entered. He stood near the window, cigarette smoke swirling around him.

Celia couldn't help but feel a mix of worry and irritation at his smoking habits. It was certain that they would be his demise.

"Sit," he commanded, his back still turned to them. Celia obediently settled on the far couch, putting some distance between them. He crushed the cigar into the ashtray on the table, then selected a file and dropped it in front of her. She glanced at the file, her expression perplexed, before turning her gaze back to him.