Vincenzo’s POV
Blood.
That was the first thing I saw since I was born, a family full of crime and murder. Trading all kinds of weapons and drugs and always fighting for power.
I was raised in a Mafia family where love meant nothing. Born into the Moretti family, where blood was both our daily activities and our language. My father, Don Moretti, trained us with iron hands and red eyes.
He taught my younger brother Marco and me that love is weakness, that mercy destroys power. I still remember his words that very night when I was ten, standing in front of a man tied to a chair, his shirt was soaked in blood. His brathing was shallow.
Life has almost been stripped out of him.
“Look, Vincenzo,” my father said that night, his voice cold as ice. “This is what happens when you trust too much, people will play and tamper with your life.
You have to kill before you’re killed. You lead with authority and cold eyes, not with love.”
I nodded that night, fear gripped me, but I had to listen and follow his way. I watched as the man begged to live but my father never listened to him. Instead he pulled out his gun and shot him on the head.
The sound broke through the silence. I wanted to leave the room but he refused and forced me to watch him bleed to death.
After that day, I buried my softness deep inside me and built a heart that could not bleed nor threaten.
Marco followed the same path, though he always had more fire in him than I do. Together, we became weapons itself, smart, fearless and strong. We never gave love a chance and were loyal to my father’s empire.
That was the type of life I lived until I met her.
The moment my men brought her into our estate, I knew something was wrong somewhere.
At first, I said nothing. She sat quietly on the bed, her wrists still bearing faint marks from the abduction. Her hair fell in soft waves, and she looked up with frightened eyes that refused to meet mine.
That was the first red flag.
Luciana Romano; the woman I was meant to marry was known for her hot temper. I've had an encounter with her several times before at a business dinner. She spoke like a queen, proud and arrogant.
Her eyes didn’t know fear. She had the kind of arrogance that reminded me of Marco, my brother. But this girl standing in front of me……this one is quite different. She's gentle. Her words are careful. Her body tense. And she looked innocent.
I watched her from across the room, holding a glass of whiskey. Even at supper today with Dad and Moretti. Her softness and the way she was forcing herself to be stubborn could tell that something was wrong.
Even when my Dad mentioned about the marriage, I expected her to challenge him but she never did.
“You don’t look like a woman who's happy to be united with power,” I said finally, testing her.
She paused for a moment before she could speak. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft and careful, “Marriage isn’t happiness. It’s a duty.”
That was when it hit me again. Another red flag.
This wasn’t Luciana Romano. I muttered to myself.
Luciana Romano that I know would have fought back, argued, challenged me. She would have walked in with arrogance, with that fire that's always in her eyes, a sharp tongue ready to cut through any insult. She never believed she could be controlled.
But this girl… she was calm. Gentle. Observant. Too careful.
I became furious the moment I noticed she was the wrong girl. And I decided to “Return her back to her parents. Let her father deal with the lie and face the consequences.”
But until the night I caught her near my office window.
It was past midnight. The mansion was silent except for the low murmurs of guards outside. I heard a faint sound, sounds of footsteps, slow and careful. I looked through my window and there she was. Standing still like she was observing something.
I stepped out of my office immediately and walked close to her. “You have three seconds to explain what you’re doing here by this time.”
Her body began to shake, her eyes wide like a trapped bird. “I……I heard Franco making a call,” she whispered. “He’s selling information about your weapons routes. And they are planning to betray you. She managed to speak.
I stared at her for some seconds, not sure I heard her well. “Franco Bellini? I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.”
She nodded quickly. “Yes. I'm sure. You can go there and confirm it yourself. She added, pointing toward the direction Franco is.”
The anger hit me fast like a bullet. Franco Bellini, my father’s most trusted man. Planning to betray him from within. I could hear the sound of my heartbeat in my ear.
I couldn't afford to waste anytime.I turned sharply toward the hallway. “Stay here,” I snapped. “Don’t move.”
The next minutes were chaos.
I found Franco in the courtyard, whispering into his phone. The murmur was enough for me to hear what he discussed over the phone. “Franco!” I shouted with a loud voice filled with anger.
He turned, startled, immediately, his hand went inside his jacket.
“Don’t you dare!” I warned, raising my gun before he brought his own out. “Not unless you’re ready to die tonight.”
“Don Vincenzo,” he said, his voice shaking, “It’s not what you think…..I was.”
“Save it. I interrupted him”
He moved abruptly, trying to grab his gun from his pocket. I didn’t hesitate. I positioned my gun towards his shoulder and gave him a shot that made him fall.
The shot tore through the still night air, clean and loud. Franco screamed with a loud voice, holding his shoulder as blood poured through his shirt and he fell on the ground.
The noise cut the attention of my guards and they rushed toward the scene, with their weapons raised. “Shouting boss!”
“Take him,” I commanded. “Tie him to the chair in the red room.”
They dragged Franco away, his blood staining the floor as he tried to fight back.
When I turned back, Ariella was still there, watching, standing at the doorway, her face pale as snow.
I walked toward her, still breathing hard, with my gun heavy in my hand.
Her eyes widened, a mix of fear and relief crossing her face. That was the moment I decided to let her stay.
*********
POV Shift
Ariella
By night, I was completely exhausted from Marco's beating, confusion and fear took over me. Sleep refused to come. I dressed quietly and crept toward the study where I had heard the Moretti men moving earlier.
Of course, I was curious to find out what was going on in this estate. Even though I had seen danger here and the beating that almost took my life.
Franco Bellini, one of Vincenzo’s men, was speaking to someone on the phone……his voice was so low that I wondered if the person he was talking to would hear him.
“…yes, yes, the shipment will arrive in Naples tomorrow, three trucks. The route is secure… and no one else should know about this.”
He was sharing secret information about the Moretti weapons route. Planning on how to betray Moretti and take over his wealth.
I pressed myself against the wall, my stomach twisted in knots. Weapons, routes, secrets. This was one of the pieces of information I needed. Proof of crimes the world would never see.
I picked up my jotter from my pocket and began to jot down everything, my hands were shaking from fear. Each word I wrote felt like a thread weaving a trap around me.
The sound of footsteps behind made me jump. My heart slammed against my ribs. And I felt like the ground should open up and swallow me.
“Who’s there? The person shouted with a cold voice.”
I froze in a place. A shadow filled the doorway. Before I could make an attempt to run he was already in my front. I managed to hide my jotter inside my underwear.
It was Vincenzo.
His eyes were sharper than any knife I had ever seen, scanning me. For a moment, I feared he would just bounce on me and beat the life out of me. But he never did.
“What the hell are you doing near my office at this hour?” He asked with a cold voice. His eyes burning with anger.
I was shaking uncontrollably, but I summoned courage to speak. “I… I heard Franco talking with someone on the phone. He was sharing information about the Moretti weapons route and they are planning on betraying you.
He stared at me for a few seconds. Without saying a word. The place became too small. It was as if the wall was closing in on me.
Then, something changed. His expression softened. Just slightly. But his gray eyes were still looking dangerous, confusion filled his face. He scanned the environment and then shifted his eyes back to me.
