The next morning, the office buzzed with whispers. News of Amara's sudden firing had already spread like wildfire, and all eyes turned to Elena whenever she passed.
She kept her head low, clutching her files to her chest as if they were armor. Ignore them, Elena. Just do your work, she told herself.
But she couldn't ignore him. Not when the CEO's dark, magnetic eyes followed her every move.
"Elena."
Her heart jumped as Vincenzo's deep voice cut through the air. He stood at his office door, one hand in his pocket, looking at her as though she were the only person in the building.
"Yes, sir?" she asked nervously.
"Inside. Now."
The room grew still, employees pausing in their tasks, pretending not to eavesdrop. Elena hurried into his office, the door clicking shut behind her.
Vincenzo leaned against his desk, arms crossed, watching her. For once, his usual iron composure was tinged with something softer—something vulnerable.
"Elena," he said quietly, "why do you keep pulling away from me? Why won't you let me in?"
Her hands fidgeted at her sides. She bit her lip, searching for courage. "Because… I didn't come here for love, Mr. Marino. I came here to work. My family—" her voice faltered— "they're drowning in debt. To the Mafia."
The word hung in the air like poison.
She looked away quickly, ashamed. "I don't have the luxury to dream about romance or… or falling for someone. Every cent I earn is for them. To pay back what we owe."
Her voice cracked, and she pressed a trembling hand to her mouth. "I can't afford distractions. Not when my parents' lives are at risk."
Vincenzo's chest tightened, though his face remained unreadable. So this is why she resists me. Because of me. Because of my world.
"Elena," he said after a long silence, his voice low, "if that debt disappeared… if your family were free… would you still keep me at arm's length?"
Her wide eyes lifted to his. "What are you saying?"
He shook his head faintly. "Just answer."
She hesitated, her pulse racing. "I… I don't know."
Something flickered in his eyes—both hope and frustration. He wanted her answer to be yes. He wanted her to say she'd run into his arms. But she wasn't ready. Not yet.
Vincenzo pushed away from the desk and pressed the intercom. "Adrian. Inside."
Within seconds, his loyal assistant entered, bowing his head. "Yes, sir?"
Vincenzo's gaze was sharp, his voice carrying the weight of a command. "The Rossi family. Their debts. Erase them. Effective immediately. And make sure they're never approached again."
Elena blinked, stunned. "Wait—what?"
But Vincenzo's eyes never left hers.
"Yes, sir," Adrian replied, giving a discreet nod before exiting the office.
Elena stared at him, confused. "Why would you…?"
Vincenzo's lips curved into a faint smile, though his eyes burned with intensity. "Because I don't want you to carry that burden anymore. You deserve to live for yourself, Elena. Not for their chains."
Her chest tightened painfully. She wanted to ask how he could do that—why he had such power over the Mafia—but the words stuck in her throat.
She only whispered, "Thank you."
He stepped closer, close enough for her to feel his warmth. His hand brushed her chin lightly, lifting it until her eyes met his.
"One day, Elena, you'll understand just how far I'll go for you."
Her heart skipped, her breath catching. But before she could speak, he turned away, slipping back behind the mask of the CEO.
And Elena Rossi, still trembling from his touch, had no idea the man who just freed her family was the very Mafia boss who had once shackled them.
--