One Hundred & Thirty Two

One Hundred & Thirty Two
Amara sat in the sunlit sitting room of the beach mansion, the soft hum of guards moving through the halls a constant presence. She’d noticed it the moment she woke up.. their numbers had doubled.

She smiled faintly.

Before, she’d hated being watched. Hated the lack of freedom. But now… she found a strange comfort in it. Proof that Darius was protecting her even when he wasn’t there.

Beyond the wide glass windows, the ocean stretched endlessly, calm and blue. But inside her chest, something felt wrong. A tightness she couldn’t shake. An unease with no name.

A guard approached, stopping a respectful distance away and bowing slightly.

“Ma’am… you have a visitor.”

Her stomach dropped.

“A visitor?” she whispered, fear curling through her veins. Who could possibly be here?

Please don’t be him.

Please don’t let it be her father.

No. Don Matteo wasn’t her father. Not anymore. Not after everything he’d done.

She rose slowly and turned toward the entrance.

A man stood there… tall, composed, radiating quiet authority. Sharp eyes. Silver hair. Late fifties, maybe. The kind of presence that demanded attention without ever asking for it.

“You must be Amara Dervino,” he said smoothly. “Don Matteo’s daughter.”

Her body went still.

Fear prickled along her spine.

“Relax,” the man added quickly, noticing the tension seize her. “I’m not here to hurt you. My name is Lorenzo Venynar. I’m Darius’s uncle.”

“Venynar?” she echoed, her heart racing. “Darius… has an uncle?”

He nodded, lips curling into a polite, restrained smile. “I understand your surprise. He doesn’t speak much about his family. That’s why we haven’t met until now.”

Amara swallowed hard.

She realized, suddenly, how little she truly knew about Darius. His family. His past. His scars. Being in the same room with someone who carried his blood.. and his darkness made her feel exposed. Small.

Lorenzo moved with calm confidence, crossing the room before settling onto the couch. He gestured to the empty seat beside him.

“Please. Sit. Don’t be afraid. I don’t bite, dear.”

She hesitated, gripping the back of a nearby chair. Something about him unsettled her—the measured calm, the way his eyes seemed to catalog every reaction. But there was no immediate danger. Slowly, cautiously, she sat.

Her gaze never left him.

Lorenzo leaned back, hands folded over his lap, watching her like he could read her thoughts. “I understand,” he said quietly, “that you don’t know me… and that you don’t know my family. But I am here to talk about Darius and about protecting you. That’s why I’m here.”

Amara’s chest tightened. She wanted to trust him, she really did, but every nerve in her body told her to be alert. Her gaze flicked to the door, then back to him.

“I… I don’t know what you want from me,” she said softly, voice trembling just slightly.

Lorenzo’s expression softened. “Nothing, I want nothing from you, child. Only to make sure you are safe and that Darius can keep you safe. That is all. And to do that you need to know the truth. Like the Bible says the truth will set us free” he laughed coldly.

Even so, Amara couldn’t shake the knot of discomfort twisting in her stomach.

The silence stretched between them, heavy, charged, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

And then he spoke

Has Darius told you anything about his past?” Lorenzo asked, his eyes sharp and unreadable.

Amara shook her head slowly. “His past.. No…” Her voice was small, unsure.

He let out a short, cold laugh. “Hmm. I figured. If you knew, you would understand why this… relationship… is wrong.”

“Excuse me?” she asked, confusion twisting in her chest.

“Your father,” Lorenzo said, voice dropping to a hard edge, “that monster… he killed my brother. Darius’ father.”

Amara froze. Her stomach lurched.

“Wait … what?” she whispered.

“That’s right,” he continued, eyes cold. “Your father Don Matteo is a murderer. And you… You being his daughter. It’s disgusting.”

Her mind spun. This couldn’t be real. The man she had called father her whole life… the one who had tormented her and lied to her… who tired to kill her also killed Darius dad.”

“How… ?” she asked, her voice trembling, looking up at him with wide, shocked eyes.

“I don’t care who your father is by blood,” Lorenzo said, his tone sharp. “The fact that you were raised by that monster… It’s enough. I’m here to tell you leave Darius alone. Let him focus on his revenge.”

“Revenge?” The word slipped from her lips like a bitter taste.

Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, my dear… if only you knew. You’re nothing more than a pawn. A tool. A way to get close to your father.”

He leaned forward slightly. “Darius doesn’t see you as just a woman he loves. He sees what you represent. And what better way to destroy a monster than to use his weakness?”

“That’s not true,” Amara whispered desperately. “Darius wouldn’t—”

“The truth is bitter,” he cut in sharply, “but it still needs to be said.”

Her chest felt crushed. Every breath shallow and painful. Shock. Hurt. Betrayal… twisting together until she could barely think.

The man she loved. The man she trusted.

Was it all a lie?

She wanted to scream. To deny it. To fight back.

But her body wouldn’t move.

Her heart pounded as the truth settled in, heavy and merciless.

She had just learned everything.

And it hurt more than she ever imagined.