Chapter 52: For making her cry

Santino stood motionless, his hand still suspended between them. Her words pierced through his heart, but he couldn’t let her walk away with such a big misunderstanding.

"Soraya, look at me."

She shook her head and stepped backwards. "No. I’ve heard enough."

"You’re angry, and I understand that, but don’t question what I feel for you," he said in a firm tone as his jaw tightened. But before he could say more, a car came to a sudden stop near the courtyard.

"Soraya!"

Angelo rushed out of the driver’s seat and hurried towards her. He had barely reached her when he noticed her tear-stained face.

"What happened? Why are you crying?" He examined her from head to toe, and then his eyes turned to Santino, full of questions.

Soraya tried to speak, but her lips trembled. She glanced at Santino before looking back at Angelo. "Please take me home. I don’t want to stay here."

Angelo’s expression changed. He turned towards Santino, his hands slowly curling into fists. "What did you do to her?"

"That’s between my wife and me," Santino replied coldly.

"Your wife?" Angelo let out a bitter laugh. "Look at her! She’s standing here crying and begging me to take her away. Is this how you treat your wife?"

"Stay out of this, Angelo," Santino said as he wanted to talk with Soraya alone and clear all the misunderstandings.

"Or what?" Angelo stepped closer, but Santino didn’t move. "Whatever happened between you two, you can explain it later. Right now, she’s going with me."

Santino took a step forward. "She isn’t going anywhere without my permission."

Angelo’s fist connected with his jaw before he could say another word.

Santino’s head turned with the force of the blow. He slowly brought his hand to his mouth, wiping away the blood at the corner of his lip.

"Angelo!" Soraya gasped.

"That’s for making her cry," Angelo said, standing between them.

Santino’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t say anything or retaliate. He was aware of his fault and the emotions his friend might be feeling.

"You should be grateful that I’m just letting this off with a punch!" Angelo gritted his teeth and glared at him.

"Enough!" Soraya shouted. "I don’t want anyone fighting over me. Angelo, please take me home."

Angelo immediately turned towards her. His anger softened when he saw her trembling hands. "All right. Let’s go."

He opened the passenger door and waited for her to get inside. Before following her, he turned towards Santino.

"Stay away from her tonight. She’s had enough."

Santino said nothing. His eyes remained fixed on Soraya, but she didn’t look back.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The drive to the Dalias residence was quiet.

Soraya sat with her face turned towards the window, wiping away the tears that kept falling. Angelo glanced at her several times, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask questions. He had never seen her this broken.

The moment they entered the living room, her mother looked up from the sofa.

"Soraya?" She immediately put down her cup and hurried towards her daughter. "What happened, sweetheart? Why are you crying?"

She was stunned by her sudden arrival, but seeing her tear-stained face made her blood boil, and her heart ache.

Soraya tried to answer, but the moment her mother reached for her cheek, she stepped back.

"Angelo, I’m going to my room," she said to Angelo, and without answering, Soraya turned and headed towards the staircase. Angelo watched her go before following her upstairs.

Antoine exchanged a glance with his wife.

"What’s going on?" he asked.

"I don’t know," Evelina replied, her eyes still fixed on the staircase.

They were about to follow when Angelo’s voice came from upstairs. "Let me talk to her first."

Antoine stopped, clearly unhappy, but eventually stepped back.

Upstairs, Soraya entered her bedroom and dropped her handbag onto the chair. She sat on the edge of the bed, pressing both hands against her face.

Angelo closed the door behind him. "Sora?"

She didn’t look up.

He pulled a chair closer and sat in front of her. "Talk to me. What happened between you and Santino?"

Soraya lowered her hands. Her eyes were swollen, and her cheeks were still wet. "He lied to me, Angelo."

"What did he lie about?" He asked, raising a brow.

"Everything!" She shook her head, struggling to keep her voice steady. "He knew about Emilio. He knew what happened before my wedding, and he never told me. Do you know what he did? He offered Emilio money to leave my life."

Angelo frowned. "He offered him money to leave my life? Was he your ex?"

Soraya nodded as Angelo’s expression changed.

"Yes," She wiped her nose and took a shaky breath. "When Santino got to know that Emilio had come to see me at the bakery, he went to see Emilio at the bar. I was worried, thinking Santino might hurt or worse, kill Emilio."

Angelo leaned forward. "Santino doesn’t kill anyone out of his mafia business," he asserted. "And did you talk to Santino about all of this?"

"I asked him if Santino truly offered money to Emilio to have me in his life, and he didn’t even deny it." Her voice rose before quivering again. "Santino said that he’s obsessed with me. He said he did it because he wanted to marry me. Like that makes everything acceptable!"

She pressed her palms against her eyes. "I was actually starting to trust him. I thought maybe his feelings were genuine."

Angelo remained quiet, allowing her to speak as he reached for her hand. "Okay, don’t cry anymore. You have your brother with you here."

Soraya nodded, but another tear slipped down her cheek. "I don’t want to see him."

"Then don’t see him."

Neither of them noticed that the bedroom door hadn’t closed completely.

A few feet away, Soraya’s parents stood in the hallway. They had come upstairs intending to check on her, but the moment they heard her voice, they stopped.

Her mother covered her mouth as she listened.

"He had arranged all that just to marry Soraya?" she whispered.

Antoine didn’t answer. His face had darkened with every word he heard.

Inside the room, Soraya continued. "I don’t care how powerful Santino is. I don’t want him deciding everything for me. I just want to be left alone."

Antoine couldn’t take it anymore and finally stepped away from the door. He clenched his hands so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"I gave that man my daughter’s hand because I believed he would protect her," he muttered. "And this is what he has done?"

Her mother caught his arm. "Please. Don’t make things worse right now. She’s already hurt enough."

He looked back at the bedroom door. "I swear, if he thinks he can treat my daughter like this and get away with it, I’ll kill him with my own hands."

Inside, Angelo gently squeezed Soraya’s hand. "Get some rest. I’ll stay nearby if you need anything."

Soraya nodded and leaned back against the pillows, exhausted from crying.