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Luca’s words carried a sense of certainty. “The Kingsleys have been our family friends for generations. I’m sure they’re treating her well. It’s time to get her back where she belongs. She shouldn’t be out there alone anymore, not with her father here.”
A flicker of hope flashed across Charles’s face, and he gave a small, relieved smile. “Let’s go. We’ll bring her home.”
***
Anya trudged down the stairs, her suitcase in tow. The house felt hollow, like a shell echoing with memories. After returning, she had looked around for Griffin, but the maids told her he had gone out to meet some friends.
She didn’t mind. In fact, it was a blessing. It gave her the perfect window to leave—quietly, without a scene.
She had hurriedly packed everything she owned, stuffing it all into a suitcase and dragging it down the stairs. Now, standing in the marble-floored hall, she took one last look around the palace. Her heart was heavy. This place had been a refuge, and Griffin... he had been nothing but kind to her.
Tears stung the corners of her eyes. She had hoped to spend more time with the old man who treated her like family. But maybe it was better this way—leaving before she got too attached.
Just as she gripped the suitcase tighter and turned to walk out, the front doors slammed open.
A woman stormed in.
Her eyes locked on Anya like a hawk spotting prey. She was dressed in elegant, modern fashion—high-waisted trousers, a sleek blouse with silver buttons, and flowing sleeves. The fabric was clearly designer—rich, luxurious, and custom-tailored. Everything about her screamed wealth and power.
Anya froze, surprised by the woman’s sudden entrance. But the woman didn’t even blink. She marched directly up to her, face emotionless—cold, proud, and intimidating.
Then, without warning, the woman slapped her across the face.
Anya staggered back, shock and pain flooding her system. Her heart pounded in her chest as she turned to look at the woman, her breath caught in her throat.
“My son didn’t come home last night,” the woman snapped, her voice ice-cold. “You were with him, weren’t you? You slept with him?”
Anya’s pulse raced, her breath shallow. Was this... Janet Kingsley? Dante’s mother?
Janet was livid. Her hands clenched at her sides, her lips curled in fury. Her men had informed her that Dante had gone to a bar last night. He stayed at the suite—fine. But this time, unlike every other time, he wasn’t alone.
There had been a woman.
And that woman, she had just discovered, was the same girl they had taken in as a refugee less than a week ago.
“You bitch,” Janet seethed. “How dare you? We gave you a roof to sleep under for a few nights out of pity, and you went after my son like some desperate tramp. He has a fiancée! What kind oflowlife are you, trying to steal a man while living off scraps we threw your way?”
Anya’s stomach dropped. She shook her head in disbelief, unable to comprehend the venom in Janet’s voice. “Mrs. Kingsley… I didn’t know he had a fiancée.”
“Shut up!” Janet shouted. Her voice echoed off the marble walls like thunder. “This was our last chance for Dante to secure the Carter girl. You know who the Carters are, don’t you? The diamond brand seen all over the world? That’s them! And who the hell are you?”
Janet’s voice cracked as rage bled into desperation.
“And now I find out he slept withyou?” She scoffed bitterly.
Anya’s chest heaved. Her fists clenched. Her patience—already thin—snapped. She spoke slowly, trying to hold her anger in check.
“I’m not marrying your son,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “I’m moving out right now. You don’t have to worry about me. Here’s my suitcase. I’m not someone who needs charity, Mrs. Kingsley.”
Janet’s eyes flashed with pure hatred.
“Good,” she spat. “Go throw yourself on the street and seduce someone else. Don’t come near my son again. You’ve already sunk your claws into him with that pretty face of yours, filled with nothing but evil.”
Her words cut like a blade.
Anya, agitated and furious, didn’t want to be ungrateful to the people who had taken her into their home—even though all she wanted to do at that moment was scream at Janet. But she heldback her voice, tightened her grip on her luggage, and turned to leave the grand palace without saying a word. She completely ignored Janet’s rant.
But Janet wasn’t having it. She stormed over, her fury boiling over as she grabbed Anya by the arm, yanking her back. "Where the hell do you think you’re going?" Janet spat. "You’re not leaving until you learn your lesson. You’re going to learn exactly how to not mess with me and my family."