**Stefano's POV**
I heard it before I touched the doorknob, a sound that tightened my chest and slowed my steps. A woman's voice echoed through the door, and I could feel her anger in every word she spoke before I saw her face.
Elena Castellano.
I pushed the door open, and her sparkling blue eyes met mine. She paused for a second, and I noticed the fading bruises on her temple, cheekbone, and shoulder.
My stomach tightened at the sight.
The room fell silent, almost too quiet, and I could hear her breathing as her anger radiated outward.
Armando stood stiffly behind his desk, his jaw clenched so tight. “Elena,” he said, maintaining his composure. “This is Stefano Bernardo.”
Her eyes widened instantly. "No!" she spat out, her face set in a fierce expression.
“Elena!” her father warned, his voice firm.
She shook her head and stepped back. "You can’t force me into this,” she said, her voice wavering, but she held back her tears.
She ran out of the room, passing me quickly, and I caught a faint scent of vanilla with a hint of something sharp, possibly citrus, on her skin.
“Elena!” Armando called after her, but she was already gone. Elario slipped out behind her, muttering something about giving her some space.
Suddenly it was just Armando and me.
He let out a long breath, shoulders sagging. “Forgive her, Stefano. She's been through a lot. The accident… she's still recovering.”
“She's strong,” I whispered, still looking at the door where she had disappeared.
“She'll come around once she understands what's at stake,” Armando said, sounding almost relieved.
“I'll give her time,” I replied. “But you should arrange a proper meeting soon. I want to get to know my future wife.”
“Of course,” he murmured.
As I prepared to leave, I saw her through the window. She was pacing back and forth in the garden, hair wild around her face, while her brother tried to calm her.
She looked like chaos wrapped in silk and defiance.
And for reasons I didn't want to admit, I couldn't look away.
*****
The club was dimly lit as I entered. Raffaele Lorusso stood at the bar, calmly wiping his hands with a napkin, as one of his men quickly dealt with a situation on the floor.
“That one talked too much,” Raffaele said casually as his attention shifted to me.
His green eyes hardly blinked, always alert. His hair was a deep red under the dim lights, slicked back but messy around a noticeable scar that ran from his cheekbone to his jaw
“Sit, Bernardo,” he ordered.
I sat down. The air around us felt thick with tension.
Raffaele leaned on the table, watching me intently, curiosity in his eyes. "So," he said softly as he lit a cigarette, "the plan. Tell me it's progressing."
“It is. Faster than we expected.”
His lips curved slightly. “Good. I have little patience for delays.”
I poured myself a drink, feeling the liquor burn my throat. "Because of your phrase, my men used," I finally said. "Armando now believes your people targeted his daughter. He sees it as a warning from the Lorusso clan."
Raffaele exhaled smoke through his nose, looking amused. “So he blames me.”
“He does. Because of that, he came to me.” I paused and met his gaze. “He asked for my protection.”
Raffaele chuckled. “He came to you to hide from me? That's poetic.”
“It's strategic,” I replied. “Exactly what we wanted. He thinks I’m an ally. He doesn't know I was behind the attack on his daughter.”
Raffaele pressed, "And what about the girl?"
“She has been discharged from the hospital,” I said. “She's the key. Armando's already desperate to keep her safe; he'll do anything now to protect her. That's our advantage in this situation.”
Raffaele studied me for a while, then nodded. “So what's next?”
“Marriage,” I said, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. “It's already in motion. Armando believes marrying me is the only way to protect her. In four weeks, we'll have the wedding. After that, the real plan begins. I'll take everything from him, his assets, his deals, his power.”
Raffaele smiled slowly. “And my share?”
“As agreed, you'll receive half of the Castellano assets. You'll control the docks, supply routes, and northern territories.”
He flicked ash into the tray and looked at me with an expression that almost resembled respect. "I like you, Bernardo." He took a sip of his drink. "You're not soft like your father.”
His words hit harder than I wanted to admit, but I kept my face blank. "You didn't really know my father."
"I was aware of him," Raffaele said, his voice softening. "Everyone was… but those who trust too easily don't last long.”
My jaw tightened. “He trusted the wrong person.”
"Castellano," Raffaele sneered, the name dripping with disdain. "Now you're set to make him pay for what he did, step by step. I can live with that."
A knot of doubt suddenly twisted in my stomach, urging me to walk away while I still could. I stared into my glass, trying to drown out the worry, but each time I remembered what Armando did to my father, the fear faded, leaving only the determination to see this through.
Raffaele stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, then fixed his gaze on me. "Keep me updated," he said. "If Armando starts sniffing around, I'll lay a trail to keep him in the dark. But if this goes wrong…" He glanced deliberately at me. "You will clean up your own mess."
I stood, buttoning my jacket, my movements steady and controlled. “I always do.”
His lips lifted into a cold smile again. "Good. Then go make the princess fall in love with you."
Leaving the club, the memory of my father hit me all over again.
Four years ago, I had witnessed Armando pull the trigger. They were supposed to be friends, or at least that's what everyone thought, but Armando exploited that trust out of greed. He thought he had gotten away with what he did, believing no one saw him, but he never knew I was there.
I still carried the memory of my father's final moments, waiting patiently for my chance at revenge.
At last, the moment has finally arrived.
