Page 54

We step out, the air heavy with tension, and Riccardo’s there, his face stormy as he blocks our path. “What the hell happened to my sister?” he demands, voice rough, eyes blazing.
Before, I’d have brushed him off, seen him as just a spineless Rossi. But now, I see theworry carved into his face, real and raw, and it mirrors my own. “Where’s Domenico?” I ask, voice low, urgent. Riccardo glares but nods, leading us inside, his steps quick, angry.
We move through the villa, my boots heavy, my heart pounding. I don’t notice the walls, the stone, the wealth—none of it matters. Only Fina does. Riccardo pushes open a door, and Domenico’s there, standing, his face hard, eyes sharp with fear and fury. Aida’s beside him, her face pale, and Carlo looms nearby, tense.
Domenico doesn’t waste time with preambles or pleasantries as he says, voice rough, “tell me everything, Mancini. Where’s my daughter?”
I meet his gaze, my own fear raw, my anger a fire that won’t die. Fina’s gone, and Adriano’sbetrayal is the key. I need to lay it all bare, for her, for our child, for the truth I should’ve seen.
For our love.
My voice is steady as I launch into details of what happened, but inside, I’m breaking, the weight of my mistakes crushing me.
24
Serafina
My head throbs, a dull pulse that drags me from darkness. My eyes flutter open, and cold seeps into my bones, the air dank and heavy with mildew. I’m in a lair, stone walls slick with grime, shadows dancing under flickering bulbs. My wrists burn, bound tight behind me, ropes biting into my skin.
I try to recall what had happened, and the memory drags slowly through the fog in my brain. I'd left the manor after informing Giulia of my departure. Then I got into a car and headed to the villa. I hadn't driven too far before a car slammed into me from behind. My vision had blurred as I lost consciousness.
Now, fear spikes deep in me. It's sharp and raw—fear for me, for the baby growing inside me. I clench my jaw, refusing to let it show. I look around where I am, trying to familiarize myself with the place when my gaze lands on a figure across the room.
Adriano. He sits, silver hair gleaming. Of course he orchestrated this. His smile—that same smile that had put me off him the first time I saw him—is a snake’s, cold and coiled as his eyes, unblinking, pin me like a blade.
“You’re awake,” he says, voice smooth, laced with menace. “Good.”
He leans forward, elbows on his knees, cigar smoke curling around him. “I warned you, Serafina, but you didn’t listen.” His words slither, a reminder of that morning in the garden, his veiled threat I should’ve heeded.
My heart pounds, but I lift my chin, meeting his gaze, my voice steady despite the tremor in my chest. “You’ll regret this, Adriano. When Enzo finds out you killed his mother and orchestrated my kidnapping, you’re finished.”
His laugh is low, cruel, cutting through the damp air. “Your mistake, girl, was eavesdropping where you didn’t belong.” He stands, slow and deliberate, his tailored suit pristine against the filth of this place. “You heard my confession, my truth about Lucia, and thought you could run to Enzo, ruin me?” He steps closer, his cigar’s glow casting shadows on his face. “I’m notfazed. I’ll kill you, then Enzo, and take my place as don of the Mancini mafia. This war, this empire, it’s mine.”
My blood runs cold, but I don’t flinch. I have to be strong. I can't show the fear coursing through me, he'll bank on it. “You’re a fool if you think you’ll get away with this. You don’t want my father’s wrath, Adriano. He’ll hunt you down. And Enzo? He’ll tear you apart for touching me.”
My words are a fire, burning through my fear, for my child, for the man I love, even after his everything that's happened. Hopefully, by now, he knows I've gone missing. Maybe now he knows I hadn't been lying about what I heard? Will he come for me or will he leave me to perish at Adriano's hands.
Adriano’s eyes narrow, his smile vanishing, and he moves fast, his hand cracking across my face. The slap stings, dazing me. My vision blurs as pain blooms in my cheek.
“You talk too much,” he snarls.
He steps back, tossing the cigar, and pulls a knife from his pocket, its blade glinting. My stomach twists, panic clawing at me, but I force my face still, refusing to give him my fear. He kneels, close enough for me to smell leather and smoke, and presses the knife’s tip to my arm, just enough to prick. “Let’s see how brave you are now, Rossi.”
The blade drags slowly, a thin line of fire opening on my skin, blood welling, warm and sticky. I bite my lip, stifling a gasp, my body trembling but my eyes locked on his, defiant.
He smirks. The bastard's enjoying this. He moves the knife to my collarbone to make another shallow cut. Pain flares sharp, and I clench my fists. My breath hitches, my baby’s safety a pulse in my mind, urging me to stay strong. “Enzo will find me,” I whisper, voice rough, believing it, needing it. “You’re a dead man.”
Adriano’s face twists, rage flashing, and he grabs my jaw, forcing my head back, the knife now at my throat. “Keep dreaming, girl. By the time they find you, you’ll be cold, and I’ll be king.”
His grip tightens, bruising, and he cuts again, a shallow slice across my shoulder. Pain sears through me. I swallow a cry. I won’t break, not for him, not now.
Somewhere, Enzo’s coming, and Adriano’s time is running out. I have to believe that.
25
Enzo
Two days without Fina, and the world’s a hollow shell. The manor’s a tomb, its silence mocking me. So much so that I've taken refuge at the Rossi villa. Her voice at my mother’s grave haunts me—Adriano, a traitor, her eyes fierce, pleading. I called her a liar, a Rossi snake, but now I’m drowning in guilt, her absence a blade in my chest.