Elena’s POV

I wasn’t always this bitter.

There was a time I actually smiled without imagining someone’s face melting in a puddle of hot tea. But then again, I wasn’t always working in the Maurizio mansion, watching my man the man who used to compliment my stew and call me “the only woman who runs this place better than the guards” start falling for a doe-eyed little hostage who doesn't even know how to salt her food properly.

I call it spiritual war.

God calls it character ...