REBORN My Second Life I Became The Villianess novel Nysa and Dario Valteri Chapter 45
The bedroom door vibrated beneath my palms, and my heart was beating do hard and fast Dario’s body was a solid, unyielding wall pressing me back against the edge of the mattress. His hands were on either side of my hips, trapping me in between his chest and the bed frame. The taste of him was hot and heavy on my lips, a dangerous reminder of the chaos we had just unleashed outside.
Before I could take another breath into my, the sharp rapid rap of knuckles hitting the bedroom door echoed through the room.
My eyes went wide, locking onto Dario’s face with a flash of sudden panic. I tried to shift my weight, attempting to wriggle out from beneath him and put some distance between us before whoever was in the hallway decided to let themselves in.
"Dario, move," I hissed under my breath, shoving against his shoulders. "Someone's at the door."
He didn't budge an inch. His broad frame stayed locked in place, his eyes were glinting with dark infuriating amusement. He didn't look panicked; he looked unbothered, like an apex predator waiting out a passing storm in his own territory.
The second round of rapping was louder this time, carrying a hesitant, paternal weight that instantly told me who was standing on the other side. My father.
Finally, a slow, calculated smirk across his mouth. He gave my waist a light, possessive squeeze before stepping back, but instead of walking toward the door to greet my father, he reached out toward the wooden paneling near the corner of the bookcase. With a soft click, a the hidden latch gave way, sliding the seamless, secret wall panel open.
"Don't keep your father waiting, kitten," he murmured, his voice a low, raspy purr right against my ear before he slipped backward into the shadow of the passageway. The hidden door slid shut behind him, leaving me standing alone in the center of the room just as the doorknob began to turn.
I took a fast, steadying breath, smoothed down the front of my shirt to make sure my collar was high enough to hide the hickeys Dario had left on my skin, and walked over to pull the door open.
My father, was standing in the hallway. Ever since I had returned home from my time away, a strange, quiet shift had happened in him. The cold indifference that used to define his interactions with me had melted away, replaced by a weary, gentle warmth.
He looked exhausted, there were heavy bags under his eyes making him look every bit of his age, but when he saw me standing there, his expression softened immediately.
"Nyxara," he breathed out, running a tired hand over his face. "Can we... do you have a minute? Can we talk?"
I stepped back, immediately dropping my shoulders and slipping back into the quiet, compliant, soft-spoken daughter role that came so naturally to me when dealing with him.
"Of course, Father," I said softly, stepping aside to let him into the room. "Come in."
He took his time and walked into the room, his shoulders slumped as he sat down on the edge of the armchair near the window. I closed the door quietly and took a seat across from him, keeping my hands folded neatly in my lap, playing the part of the dutiful girl who had no idea how much power she was about to inherit.
He let out a long, shuddering sigh that seemed to drag up from the soles of his shoes. He stared down at his hands, shaking his head slowly.
"I don't even know where to begin," he muttered, his voice cracking slightly with stress and humiliation. "Nysa is still down the hall, locked in her room, screaming, throwing things, and cursing at the walls. She's completely unhinged."
He paused, looking up at me with heavy, regretful eyes. "I just... I want you to know, looking back on everything, this is for the best. You and Dario... you are a much better match than Nysa ever was. You have a good head on your shoulders, Nyxara. You're sensible. But I honestly can't understand why Nysa is like this. I raised her the same way, gave her everything she asked for, and yet she turned out so bitter, so spiteful." he said.

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