Chapter 139: Chapter 139

Deangelo.

I lifted Elena's lifeless body and brought her to Luca, who was the only one among us with a bit of medical knowledge. My mind was blank, unable to fully grasp the seriousness of what had happened. Luca took one look at her, his face filled with sorrow, and pronounced her dead. The truth hit me like a huge wave, overwhelming me with its finality. She had no pulse, her windpipe crushed and beyond repair.

I stood there, shocked and unable to move, trying to process the events that had just unfolded. How could this be? I never wanted to get involved in this whole situation. To be honest, I was still reeling from the shock of the revelation Elena had shared with me. I didn't even know if I was angry or not, but I definitely felt betrayed and foolish. The thought of Elena being close to my children and the potential danger she might have posed to them weighed heavily on my mind. The fact that I had no knowledge of all this when I should have known made me feel even worse.

I had gone there to ask some questions, and I didn't really care if Bruno had killed Elena, the traitor. I had no love left for her, that's what I kept telling myself. It would be utterly stupid to still have any feelings for that traitor. When I arrived, I was shocked and horrified to witness a heated argument between father and daughter that seemed like it could turn violent. I assumed Elena would be on the receiving end, but I chose not to care. She could rot in hell for all I cared.

However, just as I turned to leave, a sudden and intense pain pierced through my head, forcing me to stop in my tracks. The agony was unbearable, paralyzing my thoughts. Amidst the torment, I could hear a soft laughter, an eerie sound that echoed in my mind. Initially, I thought it was Jules, my late wife, playing tricks on me from beyond the grave. But as I listened more closely, I realized it couldn't be her.

My gaze shifted back to the scene in front of me—Bruno still in the act of extinguishing Elena's life. In that moment, a surge of protective instincts flooded over me, overpowering any remaining rationality. I was consumed by an intense rage, as if experiencing déjà vu, reliving a nightmare where Elena suffered and I was driven by an uncontrollable urge to destroy something. This time, I had found my target, and I made sure Bruno faced the consequences for his despicable actions. What kind of father would try to kill his own daughter?

With vengeance burning inside me, I turned to retrieve Elena's lifeless body and carried her to Luca, desperately hoping that her story was true, that the torment she had described inflicted by her father and Salvatore was not a fabrication. But now, with Luca confirming her death, my heart shattered into countless pieces. She was just our nanny, someone who wasn't supposed to be significant in my life.

As I gazed down at Elena's lifeless body, a profound realization washed over me, flooding my mind with memories of her. She had gone beyond the role of a mere nanny for my children—she had touched a deep part of me. Despite my initial resistance, she had managed to find her way into my heart. She had shown me a vulnerability that I didn't know existed within me. And now, with her gone, I understood the depth of my feelings for her. She had become important to me in ways I never expected.

Carrying the weight of the devastating news of Elena's death, I returned to the dungeon where Bruno was being held captive. I observed his beaten figure lying there, barely able to stand, his eye swollen shut and blood flowing from his broken nose. Seeing him in such a state didn't elicit any sympathy or emotions within me. If anything, it fueled a desire to inflict even more pain upon him.

Taking a deep breath, I delivered the news that shattered the last remnants of hope within me: his daughter was gone forever. It felt surreal, as if I was speaking the words to myself and not to him. Even as I said it, I struggled to believe it. As the words escaped my lips, Bruno's tears started to flow. It caught me off guard. How could he, the one who had shown no remorse and had brutally killed her with his bare hands, now weep over her loss? A flicker of surprise briefly passed through me, wondering if there was a trace of humanity hidden beneath his despicable exterior, but quickly dismissed it.

Anger and frustration surged through me, fueling a strong desire to end his life right then and there, in the most painful and slow manner imaginable. I imagined cutting off each of his limbs, castrating him, and inflicting every form of torment I could think of. How dare he shed tears and feel sorrow for Elena's death after causing her so much pain and making her life a living nightmare? It felt like a cruel mockery of justice.

Summoning every ounce of self-restraint, I held back the overwhelming urge to unleash my fury upon him. For now, I decided to offer him a chance to escape, to leave my domain before I changed my mind and sought my own revenge with my own hands. I wanted him out of my sight, to rid myself of the constant reminder of the agony he had brought upon us.

With a mixture of hatred and disdain, I watched as Bruno struggled to rise, his weakened body betraying him. A part of me relished in his suffering, a small taste of the torment he had inflicted upon Elena. As he stumbled out of the cell, leaving behind the dank darkness that had held him captive, I closed the door, shutting away the memory of his presence.

***

My dad's frustration was evident as we stood in the middle of the room, engaged in a heated argument. He couldn't understand why I had let Bruno go, why I had made the decision to grant him his freedom. The annoyance in his voice and the furrowed brows displayed his disapproval.

"You actually let him walk away, Deangelo?" Dad exclaimed, his tone tinged with irritation. "After everything he's done, after the pain he caused your mother, after the suffering he inflicted upon you, me, and our pack? You just let him go?"

A surge of defensiveness welled up within me, mingling with my own anger. "You don't get it, Dad. It wasn't about him. It was about Elena. He doesn't deserve an easy death; he deserves to suffer before meeting his end. Sending him away was just part of a plan."

Dad's eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing through me. "Oh, please, spare me that excuse! Are you out of your mind? Who cares about some treacherous woman who clearly belongs to their pack? Who cares about what they choose to do to each other? Have you lost yourself? Have you forgotten why we're in this? Has your memory loss also made you foolish and blind? Why do you always lose control when it comes to Elena? What does she mean to you that makes you so foolish?"

His words hung in the air, stirring a mix of curiosity and uncertainty within me. What did he mean by that? Had I been oblivious to a truth, unaware of the depth of my feelings for Elena? Were Elena and I something more before I lost my memories? Was there a hidden connection between us? These questions demanded answers, and I turned to Alessandro, my voice filled with urgency. "What are you saying, Dad? Explain yourself further," I demanded, a touch of desperation seeping into my words.

My dad hesitated, his gaze shifting away from mine. I could sense that there was more to his words, a hidden truth he was hesitant to reveal. Frustration etched on his face, he offered no immediate response, as if contemplating whether to share what lay beneath the surface.

"It's nothing, son," he finally replied, his voice guarded. "Just an observation, a passing thought. Forget about it."

But I couldn't forget about it. The mere suggestion that my feelings for Elena ran deeper than I had realized gnawed at my thoughts. Alessandro's words had struck a nerve, and I needed answers. However, I knew I wouldn't find them from him. Despite my mental breakdown due to Elena's death, which I still couldn't fully grasp, I knew I had to seek answers elsewhere.

Before I could delve further into my inner turmoil, unexpected guests arrived at our doorstep. They were the Guta Pack from a distant continent, and a mix of curiosity and caution immediately filled the air. Their leader was known for his kindness and nobility, and he informed us that he had come to offer his support upon hearing about Bruno's wickedness and the declaration of war between the Ferrari and Amato Packs.

Dad's bitterness overflowed as he rejected the assistance of the Guta Pack. His resentment echoed in his words, as he reminded them of the losses he had endured due to Bruno's actions. The pain of losing his wife and daughter to Bruno's cruelty was still fresh in his heart, fueling his anger.

The Guta Pack, remaining polite and understanding, offered their apologies for not being aware of the situation earlier. However, their words seemed to fall on deaf ears as dad's annoyance and rudeness persisted. I couldn't help but feel frustrated. We needed allies in this battle, and dismissing potential support seemed unwise. The people needed justice to be served.

Stepping forward, I expressed gratitude for the Guta Pack's willingness to help. "Thank you for offering your assistance," I said, my voice resolute and appreciative. "We truly value your support. Please, come inside."

Dad's irritation grew, his impatience evident in his tone as he confronted me. "Why do you always defy me?" he asked, his frustration seeping into his words.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, I met his gaze. "Dad, you need to understand that I am now the Alpha," I reminded him, the weight of our complicated history lingering between us. "We need all the help we can get. Let go of this hatred, this bitterness that consumes you. It's not worth losing yourself and damaging our personal relationships."

His eyes narrowed, and he retorted sharply, "Go to hell, Deangelo! I will have my revenge on Bruno my own way, even if it costs me my life."

The intensity of his words hung heavily in the air, a stark reminder of the pain and anger that fueled him. As much as I wanted to bridge the gap between us, to find common ground, it seemed that dad was still firmly set on his path of vengeance. With a heavy sigh, I released my grip on his shoulder, realizing that our paths had diverged. "Do what you must, Dad," I replied, resignation tinged in my voice. "I hope whatever you're about to do brings you healing and the peace you seek."