Chapter 3 A Month Gone

**Elena's POV**

I opened my eyes and tried to blink, but the lights felt too bright, like needles pressing into them. Everything was white and overwhelming.

A dull ache pulsed through my skull with every heartbeat. I stared at the blurry shapes above me, my chest rising and falling in short, shaky breaths as I tried to remember how to breathe properly as I heard the sound of a machine beeping steadily beside me.

For a moment, I thought I was still in the car, the screech of metal, shattering glass, and the world spinning, all of it replaying in my mind.

Panic suddenly surged through me, and I gasped for air.

"Elena?"

I forced my eyes open again, everything swimming in and out of focus, and I had to blink several times before the room stopped spinning.

"Elena, hey..." The voice cracked with emotion.

I tried to turn my head toward the voice, but even that small movement sent pain shooting through my shoulder and down my side, making me grit my teeth.

My brother, Elario, was right by my bed, and just seeing him made my chest tighten. He looked terrible; his hair stood on end, and his eyes were red and swollen, as if he hadn't slept in ages.

The moment he saw me awake, he froze, then shot to his feet so quickly his chair nearly toppled.

"You're awake," he exclaimed, grabbing my hand and pressing it to his lips. "You're really awake."

My mouth was dry. When I finally spoke, my voice came out weak and raspy. "What happened? Where... where am I?"

"You're in the hospital," he said gently, his thumb brushing over my wrist. "You've been here for a while."

"How long?" I asked, anxiety rising in my voice.

He hesitated, looking down. "A month, Elena. You were in a coma for a month."

I stared at him in disbelief. "A month?"

He nodded. "A lot happened while you were out. We'll talk about it when you're stronger."

I tried to push myself up, but sharp pain flared in my shoulder, forcing me to lie back down with a gasp. "No... that can't be right. The crash... it just happened..."

Everything slowly began to sink in.

"Where's Papa?" I asked.

"He's outside with the doctors," Elario replied. "He hasn't left since the night of the accident."

Of course, he hadn't left. That was just like him.

Then the hospital door opened, and my father stepped into the room, his movements hesitant.

My father, Armando Castellano, looked nothing like himself. His suit was wrinkled, the gray in his hair more pronounced than usual, and the dark circles under his eyes made him look older and worn out. He stood there, staring at me, then his face hardened, and something twisted in my chest.

"Papa..."

He crossed the room quickly and took my hand. His voice cracked. "Cara mia, I thought I had lost you."

Tears burned in my eyes. "I'm here," I whispered.

"You should never have left the house that night," he said, his words heavy. "You know the dangers. You know who we are."

"I just needed some air," I whispered, unable to tell him the full truth.

"Air?" His tone sharpened with fear and frustration. "Your mother wanted air too..."

"Father..." Elario stepped forward. "Not now."

The room fell silent.

My father looked at me for a long moment, then nodded. "Rest, cara. You're safe now." He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder before turning and walking slowly toward the door.

"Wait," I called softly. "There's something you need to know."

He paused, his hand on the door handle.

"I received a text... just before the crash."

His body stiffened. "What text?"

I swallowed. "It said, 'An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.' It was them, wasn't it? The Lorusso clan."

The silence grew heavy as I noticed my father and brother exchanging a tense glance.

Elario finally spoke. "We believe it was Raffaele Lorusso. He's been targeting us since we intercepted his shipment. You... you were meant to be a warning."

My father brushed my hair back with a trembling hand. "You will not be hurt again. I will make sure of it."

Then he walked out. The door closed behind him, leaving the scent of his cologne and a silence that weighed on my chest.

Elario stayed with me until I fell asleep again.

The next morning, I woke to soft voices outside my door. I heard Lucia's warm laugh, a sound that always felt like home, and a moment later, she entered, her face beaming with a wide smile.

Lucia was my best friend, the one person I could talk to about anything, and she'd been with Elario for two years now, long enough to feel like family.

"Lena, you're finally awake!" she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "I was beginning to think you enjoyed all this attention."

I tried to smile, but it felt shaky. "Guess I needed a break," I said, even though it sounded like a bad joke.

She sat on the bed next to me and gently smoothed my hair. "You scared us all," she said quietly. "You scared him the most."

Elario leaned against the wall, fiddling with his phone, but when I looked at him, he sighed and set it down. "She's right. You had everyone losing their minds."

Lucia smiled at him, her face softening. She walked over, leaned in close, and whispered something in his ear that made him chuckle. He grabbed her wrist and gently tugged her toward him.

"Babe," she whispered, glancing at me. "We're in a hospital."

"So?" he murmured, perking her forehead. "You said I should relax."

She playfully hit his arm, but her smile stayed bright. "You only listen when it suits you."

​"I listen when it comes from you," he said, gazing at her with warmth in his eyes.

I looked away, giving them their moment, but I couldn't help noticing the way he looked at her, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I wondered what it felt like to be loved that way, to have someone look at you with all the love in the world in their eyes.

Lucia moved closer to me, her cheeks flushed. "He hardly slept at all," she said. "He wouldn't eat anything; he just sat here waiting."

Elario grunted from the corner. "Don't make me sound pathetic."

"You are pathetic," she teased, smiling at him.

He didn't argue. His eyes softened as he looked at me. "Please, don't scare us again."

Two weeks later, the doctor finally said I could go home, but nothing felt real. Everything looked the same, yet it all felt off.

Back at home, there were more guards than before, and it felt as if I couldn't take a step without someone watching me. I barely had time to catch my breath before my father summoned me to his office, his voice leaving no room for argument.

"Sit down," he instructed gently.

Elario was already there, leaning against his desk, his expression tense.

My father's face was tight with worry, but his voice was too calm, making me uneasy. The clock ticked in the background, each second echoing loudly in the quiet room, heightening the tension.

He stared at me for what felt like forever, his eyes lingering on the fading bruises on my face and the stitches on my shoulder.

"You were attacked because of me," he said quietly.

"I know," I whispered.

"That's why I've made a decision for your safety."

My stomach tightened. "What kind of decision?"

"You are getting married."

My heart skipped a beat at those words. I couldn't breathe properly; it felt like something was pressing down on my chest.

I stared at him, my throat tight, my voice barely working.

"What? You can't be serious, Papa."

"I am," he replied softly. "This alliance is the only way to keep you safe."

"I don't want protection," I cried, my voice cracking with raw desperation. "I just want my life back."

His eyes softened, but his voice remained firm. "You mean everything to me, Elena, and I would do anything to protect you."

My eyes stung, and everything went blurry. "You can't just decide that for me. I don't even know who you want me to marry. Who is it?"

Elario, looking troubled, spoke up. "Father, maybe we should consider this more before deciding..."

My father cut him off firmly: "There's no need for further discussions. The decision has already been made."

My hands shook, and I dug my fingers into the chair, trying to keep it together. "Who am I supposed to marry?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"You will marry Stefano Bernardo," he said, meeting my eyes.

The name sent a shiver down my spine. I had heard rumors about him: that he was ruthless, cold, the kind of man people whispered about when they thought no one was listening.

Right then, the door creaked open, and I turned around, my heart pounding as the footsteps drew closer.

That was the first time I saw him.