Diana ran her fingers through her long, bouncy hair and glanced at her father.
"Is this all we're here for?"
Giancarlo didn't respond.
"Fine then, I'll take my leave."
She turned to go, but Stefanos's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. With a yank, he spun her around—and slapped her.
The sound cracked across the restaurant.
"You don't turn away from me when I'm talking to you, Diana!" he grounded out. The amusement from earlier was gone.
Diana whose face had snapped to the side, her hair covering her vision, blinked. She stood frozen for a moment, breathing heavily, then slowly lifted her gaze to him.
There was no warning at all. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of her palm landing on his face—so hard, he nearly staggered.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Diana Sorin…slapped him back? An action she would never dare take, had it been before.
Stefanos stood with his eyes blown impossibly wide.
Diana craned her head back for a second and breathed out before meeting his shocked gaze. "Stefanos."
Her tone was cold.
"Don't you ever raise your filthy hands on me again. Or I swear you'll regret it."
"DIANA!" Mr. Giancarlo bellowed at her.
But that didn't stop her. "As for the company you've seized from me and my house you threw me out of, you'll have to give them back to me because they are in my name."
"I will do no such thing," he spat. "Like I told you, either straighten yourself out or you get nothing!"
"Fine, I'll sue. You had no right to kick me out of a home I paid for or take away the company. Yes, you handed the company over to me, but I have the legal documents that say it's mine. I took that company to where it is now. All of them were my hard work."
"Go ahead, sue," Giancarlo bit out. "Do you really think you'll win? You are deluding yourself and in the meantime, you are free to keep spending your days out on the street."
The anger in his eyes was palpable.
"You could've easily ended all this with a simple apology," he added. "But you chose to be stubborn. The choice was—"
"A simple apology won't cut it anymore," Stefanos interrupted, licking the inside of his cheek as glared at her. "My forgiveness is not something you can earn with a mere apology anymore, Diana. You will beg for it."
"Go to hell, Stefan." Diana turned sharply and stormed out, not sparing either man another glance.
Stefanos didn't even wait for Giancarlo to speak. He shoved hard at the glass door, stepped out, and headed to his car. However, he paused, gaze locking on Diana.
She was pacing near the curb as if trying to figure out how to go about things. Her father had frozen her bank after all.
Come to think of it.
Stefan's eyes narrowed.
If both the mansion and her card were out of her reach, where did she sleep last night? Not to mention she smelt of fresh soap—a smell he'd never smelt on her before. He knew the type of soap Diana used.
This one belonged to someone else. But who?
He knew she didn't have friends. Her father had never allowed her to. So where had she spent the night and with who?
Balling his hands into fists, he got into his car but he didn't drive off. He waited, just watching her.
It couldn't be who he was thinking. Surely not.
She would never dare have an affair behind his back. That psycho was merely blabbing about her, nothing more.
Diana stopped her pacing all of a sudden and glanced around.
The chance of her winning in court against her father was low because while he acted like a loyal dog to the Rassis, he wasn't an easy man.
Getting her properties back was more than important.
She knew a lawyer who could help her case, it was just…how would she be able to get to them? She had no money to even board a taxi.
Her teeth bit into her lip.
Ian Basti.
The name popped into her head.
But getting involved with that man wasn't a good call. There was just this thing about him—a feeling she couldn't explain. Being in the same space as him alone often left her feeling this sort of tingles that set her nerves on fire, like little sparks.
She'd tried to ignore it. Assumed it was just in her head.
But it wasn't.
Scratching her head in frustration, she shoved her phone into her pocket and looked up. The traffic light across the road turned red.
She stepped onto the zebra crossing.
But just before she could reach the other side—
A deafening horn blared and she turned her head quickly.
Her eyes widened and everything…slowed.
She could see a truck speeding toward her.
There was no time to scream and there was no time to run. All she could see was her life flashing before her eyes.
She was…
Dead.