His Villain

34

He's an evil man, with a foul and unholy soul. The feeling of not being in control was something he detested, despised even. Throughout his life, he had made major decisions at a young age, always ensuring that he held the reins of power firmly in his grasp. When he stepped into the Don's shoes, he had never faltered or hesitated in his choices. No, he had never second-guessed he, himself-until now. That woman, Celia, had managed to infiltrate his thoughts, occupying his mind every second. To distract himself, he buried himself in work, indulging in more smoking and drinking than before.

He had successfully evaded her and his sister's questions, but this was a new experience for him. The irony was not lost on him; he had never wanted to feel this way. At times, he even wondered if she had cast some kind of black magic on him.

But now he knew that she wasn't the one. The handwriting in the letter he received didn't match hers. She didn't put up a vicious fight. Her device usage records were clear. The CCTV footage didn't raise any suspicions. Her attempt to drug Lorenzo had been naive. If she were truly behind it all, she would have kidnapped Lorenzo to extract information, but she didn't. And above all, no one would willingly put their own life at risk to save someone who had put them in danger.

It had been three days since the incident, and Celia's condition remained unstable. She was fortunate enough to have avoided nightmares, but her complexion had grown pale, and her body offered little support to her mental well-being.

When she was admitted to the medical room, she had lost a significant amount of blood, and her fever continued to rise. The doctor announced that they needed blood for her, but none of the available matches. Eventually, Venezio decided to give his own blood since he was an universal donor. Now, his blood coursed through her veins.

His sister was furious with him, but he couldn't bring himself to care about her anger at that moment. He knew that, regardless of the truth, it would linger in his mind and heart. Celia had taken a bullet for him, and he had willingly given her his blood. In his mind, they were now even, and he no longer felt indebted to her. But she owed him answers. Yet, the greatest irony was that he was the one who had put her in that dangerous situation.

Dalia bombarded him with questions about Celia's condition, but he deflected her, refusing to acknowledge her inquiries. Determined to find answers, Dalia decided to confront Celia herself. She knew that Celia wouldn't lie to her in this situation, but little did she know that Celia had other plans.

Dalia knew how to extract information from her, so she called for Celia's men to assemble at her mansion. Celia found herself surrounded by three people in her room, all waiting for her to explain how she ended up in this mess.

"When I entered the bathroom, a man came from behind and drugged me. I don't remember anything after that, but when I regained consciousness, I was in someone's apartment. The same man emerged from a room and tried to force himself on me. I fought back, but he slapped me and threatened me with a gun. I eventually gave up when Alessia arrived and shot him in the chest. As I tried to retreat, he fired, and the bullet hit me. After that, I don't remember anything," Celia recounted in a weak voice.

"But when I ran after you, you weren't in the bathroom; only Alessia was," Dalia reasoned, puzzled by the inconsistency.

"Maybe he drugged me before Alessia. I can't remember clearly," Celia responded, her voice filled with exhaustion.

"How did Alessia find you?" Dante interjected, his gaze filled with fiery determination.

"I don't know. You can ask her yourself," Celia answered quietly, not wanting to prolong the discussion in her weakened state.

"You're coming with us," Dante declared, swiftly lifting her in a bridal-style carry. Warren and Dalia followed him, descending the stairs. As they reached the last step, they noticed the man responsible for Celia's ordeal entering with his secretary. Venezio positioned himself in front of Dante, obstructing their view of the entrance with his imposing figure.

Venezio tilted his head slightly and asked, "Where are you taking her without my permission?"

"Out of this hell," Dante replied, resolute, and continued his march toward the entrance, disregarding Venezio's words.

"You can't take her, at least for now," Venezio warned, but Dante paid no heed and pressed forward. Warren trailed behind, and Dalia exchanged a knowing look with Alessia. Dalia chose not to intervene, recognizing that Dante and Warren held a stronger claim to protect Celia as friends. Celia had suffered enough within these walls, and perhaps her men would be better equipped to keep her safe. It seemed to be the best course of action for everyone involved.

"If any harm comes to her at your hands, don't blame us," Venezio stated firmly before they departed. Dante, his tone resolute, retorted, "Just as you kept her here, far from danger, she needs our protection, not yours." With that final warning, he gently placed her in the car and drove away.

He was letting her go because if she stayed here, he might lose control and end up hurting her. He couldn't erase the thoughts of her that plagued his mind.

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