Prologue
Word Count: 2307
*
Diana Hart stood at the edge of the stage, clutching her degree with trembling hands.
The applause around her was thunderous, several of her department mates — whom she'd spent the past two years occasionally exchanging ideas, group works or small discussions with — hooting as she was awarded her degree but the joy in Diana's chest was muffled, muted by the gnawing worry that had settled in her stomach.
She should've gotten a text back, or a call. Something, to let her know they were stuck up in traffic or the car had some issues and delayed them. Anything!
Her parents, always punctual and proud, should have been in the front row at least two hours ago. Her father, Theodore Hart, would have been recording everything on his phone while her mother, Eloise, cheered louder than anyone else.
But their seats were empty.
"Still no word from them?" asked Goldie, her closest friend since undergrad, as they walked out of the auditorium together twenty minutes later.
Diana shook her head. "Their flight was supposed to land hours ago. Maybe they got caught in traffic or something." She tried to sound hopeful, but her voice cracked. She couldn't clear the unease that settled deep in her stomach that something was terribly wrong.
Goldie placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "They’ll be here, Dee. Let’s take pictures while we wait. They’ll kill you if you don’t have at least one."
Diana smiled faintly and obliged, letting Goldie snap photos of her in her cap and gown. Still, her gaze kept flickering toward the entrance, hoping to see her parents rushing in with apologies and hugs, her dad's personal assistant trailing behind them in his thick rimmed glasses and shy smile.
Then her phone buzzed, and relief flooded her as she brought it out of her pocket. It had to be them.
“Hello?” she answered quickly.
“Miss Hart?” A deep, unfamiliar voice filled her ear and her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. Still, Diana swallowed thickly and tried to calm herself.
“Yes, speaking. Who’s this?”
“This is Captain Williams of the National Aviation Authority. I regret to inform you that…”
Diana’s heart stopped. The world seemed to tilt, the captain’s voice fading in and out as he spoke words that felt too surreal to comprehend. "Your parents’ plane…crashed…there were no survivors. We're currently trying to get what's left of their..."
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head as tears sprang to her eyes. "That’s not possible. They were coming to see me graduate. They—they—this can't be true, please tell me it's a lie! No!"
Goldie grabbed her arm. "Diana? What is it?"
Diana dropped her phone, her teeth clattering in shock. It clattered to the ground, the captain’s voice still audible, but she couldn’t make out the words anymore. Everything blurred. The noise of the crowd, Goldie’s panicked questions, even the ache in her chest—it all became a dull roar.
Her parents were gone.
Both in one day!
~
Roman Castellano was in his office, the city skyline sprawling beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. His assistant had just handed him a report, but he couldn’t focus. Not today. Not when he knew Diana was graduating and he so badly wished he could be with her at this very moment. But he couldn't.
There would be questions, and speculations, and he wasn't sure how long his heart would be willing to take, with him seeing her and not being able to talk to her, get closer and even wish for more.
He leaned back in his chair, his thoughts drifting to her. Diana Hart. The name alone brought a tender smile to his face. It had been years since they were children, but he remembered every detail about her: the fiery determination in her hazel eyes, her laugh that could brighten even the darkest days, and the courage she’d shown when she saved him from that warehouse.
If she hadn't been there when the kidnappers had stepped out to do God knows what, he wasn't sure if he would still be alive.
He had kept his feelings buried, convincing himself she was just a childhood friend and benefactor. But last year, at their mutual friend’s wedding celebration, everything had changed. The feelings he'd kept so buried in his heart had returned with full force.
He'd seen her across the room, and when their hands brushed, it was like electricity surged through his veins.
A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.
“Come in,” he said gruffly.
Ross stepped in, his face pale and eyes wide. He knew how much Diana meant to his boss. “Sir, I have something to report. It’s about Diana.”
He shot up from his chair. "What happened? Is she okay?"
Ross hesitated, then said, “Her parents’ plane crashed. They didn’t make it. She has gotten the news and isn't taking it well. I heard she passed out immediately she was told."
Roman’s chest tightened, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Theodore and Eloise were like family. They had been kind to him when he was just a scared kid, lost and alone and their families had grown closer over the years though he'd rarely associated with Diana himself. And Diana…how could she bear this?
“I need to see her,” Roman said, grabbing his jacket.
Ross pursed his lips grimly and stepped in his way. “She’s still at the school. She just found out. You showing up might overwhelm her. Let me go first. She needs a friend right now, not…” Ross trailed off, but Roman understood the unspoken words: not someone who might make things more complicated because they weren't that close.
“Fine,” he said reluctantly. "Go to her. Make sure she’s not alone."
“I will,” Ross promised before leaving.
Roman sat back down, burying his face in his hands. The ache in his chest wasn’t just for Diana’s loss—it was for her pain, her devastation. He wanted to take it all away, but he knew she wouldn’t let him. Not yet.
~
The morning after Diana’s homecoming was filled with bleakness and distraught emptiness. She couldn't eat, hadn't spoken a word and wouldn't stop crying. After her parents remains were gathered, she got the help of the burial home and Ross, Roman's PA and conducted a private burial for them. Diana felt selfish, but she wanted to do this herself. Till her parents death, her uncles and aunts had been eyeing several of their properties.
The last thing she wanted was for them to cry fake tears at her parent's burial ceremony— which was supposed to be sacred since that was the last time she would be able to have a direct contact with them physically.
A week later, Diana stepped out of the cab, the once-grand Hart estate looming before her. The towering gates were open, but the house felt foreign now, cold and unwelcoming.
Goldie had stayed with her the nights before, offering quiet comfort. But now Diana was alone because Goldie's mom caught the flu and she had to go and take care of her and Diana was left here to face the aftermath of her parents' deaths.
As she walked up the steps, she noticed cars parked haphazardly in the driveway—cars belonging to her aunts, uncles, and cousins. Diana was heartbroken but the heartbreak didn't overwhelm her overall feelings because confusion and panic still warred in her mind.
What was happening? Her parents had just died a week ago and most of them hadn't bothered to at least put a call through. So how come they were at their house? Gritting her jaws, she walked in with her two bags.
Inside, the house was buzzing with activity. People she barely recognized—distant relatives and family friends—were chatting, eating, and even laughing. The scent of coffee and pastries wafted through the air, making her stomach churn. Did these people even realize the owners of the house just passed?
“What the hell is going on here?” Diana demanded, her voice cutting through the noise.
Her Uncle Walter, a portly man with a permanent smirk, turned to her. "Diana! There you are. We were just about to call you."
"Call me? For what? And why are you all here?" She quipped as her sharp gaze roamed around in disgust.
Aunt Margaret, her mother’s elder sister, stepped forward. "We had a family meeting to discuss the estate, properties and the company. The lawyer read the will yesterday."
Diana blinked, her head spinning. She gripped the back of the chair for support , suddenly feeling faint. "The will? Without me? How could you—"
Margaret waved her hand dismissively. "You were grieving, dear. We didn’t want to bother you."
Diana’s fists clenched. "Bother me? This is my family’s legacy. My father’s company. You had no right—"
“We had every right,” Walter interrupted. "The lawyer was clear: the company’s funds are to be distributed among the family to settle debts."
“What debts?” Diana asked, her voice rising. Her parents didn't tell her about any debt.
“Your father’s mismanagement left the company in ruins,” Margaret said sharply. “We’re only doing what’s necessary. The bank wouldn't stop calling so we've had to sell most of the landed properties and one of the museums.”
Diana’s chest tightened. “Where’s the lawyer? I want to speak to him.”
Walter and Margaret exchanged a look before Margaret calmly said, “He’s…unavailable.”
“Unavailable?” Diana repeated. "What does that even mean?"
“He’s disappeared,” Walter said bluntly. “Probably fled the country. Your father didn’t exactly surround himself with trustworthy people.”
Diana noticed the way they kept talking down on her father and his achievements. These same people had been kissing his behind just months ago, asking for funds to maintain their immediate families expensive lifestyle. How could their loyalty be so fickle?!
Diana staggered back, the weight of their words sinking in. Her family had stolen everything—her father’s company, his hard-earned money, even his reputation.
“Get out,” she whispered, her body trembling in rage.
“What?” Margaret asked, her tone incredulous. "Surely you can't send us away. We're family, and family sticks together-"
“I said, get out!” Diana shouted, her voice breaking. “All of you! Leave this house now, you thieves. How dare you come here, drinking and celebrating when the owners of the house just died? Do you have any sympathy? Get out!”
The room fell silent. For a moment, no one moved. Then, one by one, they began to file out, grumbling under their breaths.
When the last car drove away, Diana sank to the floor. The house was eerily quiet now, but it didn’t feel like home anymore.
Then she wept bitterly for an hour, remembering her parents smiles and reminiscing find moments. She would never see them bicker over random things again, she would never see her mom waltz round the kitchen while marinading turkey or whatnot.
They were gone.
Diana woke up and checked the time. Twelve fifteen. Her legs were cramped. She'd definitely slept for more than two hours.
Clearing her throat, she wiped her tears and took a deep breath. Crying wouldn’t bring her parents back, and it wouldn’t rebuild their legacy. She needed help—someone she could trust. She needed to get back at those people who'd called themselves family.
She wanted everything they took, along with what belonged to them!
Her mind drifted to several people who could help but one name stood out: Roman Castellano. He was her father’s closest ally even though he was just a few years older than her. Roman was also her childhood friend and the only person who might care enough to help without making things difficult for her or getting swayed by bribery.
Diana pulled out her phone, her fingers trembling as she dialed his number. And she was relieved when Roman picked on the first ring.
“Roman? It’s me, Diana. Ahem. I uhm, I need your help.”
