Page 15

I clench my fists as she looks away, hiding her tears behind that sharp tongue of hers. The rage sits heavy inside my chest. I keep my expression still, but inside, everything tightens.

She has no idea. No idea what she’s playing with.

I blink, but I’m not seeing the present anymore.

The image of her flashes back—on that damn monitor.

Hours earlier.

Cassian had burst into my office, phone pressed to his ear, face tight. He snapped his fingers, signaling me before ending the call.

“One of my men just flagged something.” His voice was low, cautious. “She mixed in with the incoming staff this morning.”

I didn’t speak, only held out my hand. Cassian nodded and tapped the surveillance console. The screen lit up.

There she was.

Fioretta, slipping through the side corridor, head down, scarf covering half her face, sunglasses shielding the rest. Like a damn professional.

Cassian leaned forward, murmuring, “Most of the new staff don’t know about her condition. Per your instructions, I’ve kept them from gossiping. We can’t risk word getting out to Melbourne. If the other Families catch wind—”

“Show me where she is now.” My voice was ice.

He switched the feed.

There she stood. Backyard. Talking to one of the outer perimeter guards.

I watched as she leaned into him, a soft smile curling on her lips, fingers lightly brushing his neck. My teeth ground together.

The guard swallowed hard and pulled her closer. His mouth landed on her throat. His hands groped her waist as if she were his to touch.

Cassian’s eyes went wide. “Boss….”

Every cell in my body screamed to move. To break the screen. To drag her back here and remind her exactly who she belonged to.

But my voice stayed even, clipped. “No.”

Cassian blinked, confused. “My men can bring her back—”

“Let it be.”

He hesitated. “But the meeting. You can’t see your aunt without her.”

I stood from my chair, smoothing my jacket as I buttoned it closed. My voice was flat. “We’ll pick her up on the way.”

Cassian followed me silently as we left the study. The guards outside straightened when they saw us.

That’s when I saw him.

The guard.

On his knees near the sidewall, flanked by two of my enforcers, he was already trembling and pleading for his miserable life. His lip bled from where one of my men had shut him up.

“Please, Capo! I didn’t know she was yours! I swear it, Capo, I didn’t know!”

I walked up to him slowly. Calm. My shoes stopped inches from his bowed head. He shook like a leaf, his breathing shallow.

I crouched to his level, my face inches from his. I smiled.

“That’s your only saving grace,” I whispered. “You didn’t know.”

He whimpered, nodding furiously. “Grazie, Capo. Please—”

I turned my head to Cassian, who stood behind me, hands clasped, waiting. “Make sure he gets his wages. A plane ticket. And make sure he never breathes Melbourne’s air again.”

Cassian nodded once, stone-faced.

I turned back to the guard, my voice softer than before—dangerously so. “If I ever see your face again….” I smiled wider, my tone almost friendly. “I’ll rip your teeth from your mouth one by one and feed them back to you.”

The man swallowed hard, his face pale as ash. “Yes, Capo. Yes. Thank you, Capo.”

I rose to my full height, adjusting my cufflinks.

The car hums quietly as we drive, but my attention never leaves her. She stares out the window, into nothing, her profile calm but distant.

I study her in silence.

The old Fioretta wouldn’t have done any of this.

She would’ve sat beside me quietly, her back straight, her voice measured.

Always graceful, always composed—far too polite even when others deserved her wrath.

She was never weak—no, never—but when it came to personal battles, she yielded.

She let things pass. Smiled when it stung.

Bit her tongue instead of spitting venom.

This woman beside me now? She doesn’t hold back. She takes what she wants. Demands, pushes, claws if she must. And God help me, she terrifies me just enough to make my chest tighten in ways I can’t fully explain.

She makes me feel alive.

^^^^

The car slows, pulling into Vittoria’s estate.

The iron gates creak open, revealing manicured gardens that frame the old mansion like polished armor. Cassian steps out first, scanning as usual. Ever the shadow.

I follow, adjusting my suit jacket as my shoes meet the stone driveway.

Fioretta steps out after me, pulling off her scarf but keeping the sunglasses. A silent little act of rebellion. Her chin lifts, her mouth twitching upward slightly. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

Two guards approach. Formal, rigid. They nod and lead us toward the main doors. Fioretta and I walk ahead while Cassian trails behind like the second set of eyes I know I’ll need.

Inside, everything smells like old money. Polished wood, oil paintings, and the faint trace of expensive perfume.

Vittoria appears.

She steps forward from the hall like a queen descending from her throne. Chubby, dignified, every inch of her polished to perfection. Her dark silk blouse clings as if it were tailored just for this meeting. Sixty-something, but still carrying the beauty of her youth beneath the weight of power.

Her sharp eyes land on me first. She completely ignores Fioretta.

“You are ten minutes late. Why?” Her voice cuts through the space like a blade.

I keep my expression neutral. “I apologize, Aunt. We had a bit of a hitch.”

Vittoria shifts her gaze downward, finally acknowledging Fioretta.

But Fioretta doesn’t drop her eyes. She holds Vittoria’s stare, unblinking.

The corner of Vittoria’s mouth twitches ever so slightly in disapproval, but she turns on her heel without comment.

We follow her through the corridor, down to her private meeting room. Cassian takes position behind us like a stone sentinel.

We sit. The heavy air between us pulls tight.

Vittoria folds her hands over her lap, finally addressing Fioretta directly. “I hear you’re recovering well.”

“Yes. Thank you.” Fioretta’s voice doesn’t waver. Confident.

Vittoria narrows her eyes, trying to read deeper. “I learned you have no memory.”

Fioretta opens her mouth to respond. “Well, ye—”

“It’s a good thing,” Vittoria cuts in sharply, “that way, we can all forget the disgraceful chaos you caused.”

Fioretta glances at me briefly, but I step in before she can speak. “We have it all under control, Aunt.” My voice stays firm. Controlled.

Vittoria’s tone sharpens. “Please do. I personally think you should be held accountable for—”

“I need to pee.”

The words come out of Fioretta’s mouth like she’s announcing the weather.

Vittoria’s mouth opens slightly, her brows lifting as though she misheard. “Pardon?”

Fioretta rises, voice smooth, face calm. “I said, I want to pee. There’s pee in my bladder. I need to let it out. Or would you prefer I relieve myself right here? Lovely carpets you’ve got.”

Vittoria stiffens, her entire face hardening.

Fioretta flashes a sweet smile, her tone almost playful. “Never mind. I’ll find the bathroom myself—or maybe I’ll just water your garden. It is quite beautiful.”

She turns toward the door, her hips swaying slightly with every step.

Cassian moves instinctively to follow, but she throws him a glance over her shoulder, smirking. “At ease, handsome. I’ll find my way.”

The door slams behind her with a final echo that leaves the room crackling with tension.

Vittoria’s face flushes, her lips trembling with barely-contained rage.

“How dare she?” she hisses, her voice breaking with disbelief. “Who is this girl? Are you certain she is Fioretta?”

I feel my throat tighten, but I keep my expression unreadable, locking my hands together, as though holding back every emotion boiling under the surface.

If only she knew how much this version of Fioretta unsettles me. And how much she consumes me.

Vittoria’s face is stiff with fury, but I steady my voice, masking the corner of my lip that threatens to curl upward.

“She’s on medication,” I say calmly, folding my hands in my lap. “It makes her act…odd. Disoriented.”

Vittoria narrows her eyes, studying me as if trying to peel back my skin. “So she doesn’t know what happened that day?”

A knot forms deep in my gut. My throat tightens before I force the word out. “No.”

Vittoria leans back, exhaling slowly. The dim light from the chandelier above catches on the pearls hanging from her ears, her fingers drumming softly on the armrest.

“Good,” she finally says. “Keep it that way—for now. This might be how we finally get everything we wanted.”

I shift slightly in my seat, keeping my breathing steady. “I can’t control her memory, Aunt.”

Her head snaps toward me, sharp as a blade. “Serevin Aurelio Accardi,” she says, every syllable cold, slicing through the thick air. “Where do your loyalties lie?”

My jaw locks. My eyes meet hers. “With the family. With the Accardi Syndicata.”

She watches me for a beat longer, eyes narrowing. “You say that, but you’re swayed by her. I see it in your eyes.” Her voice lowers into something darker. “Don’t forget what she is. She’s a traitor. A threat to this family. A threat to you.”

I don’t reply. My hands tighten where they rest.

Vittoria’s voice sharpens further. “And when she remembers what happened that day, she will not hesitate to finish what she started.”

The words hit me like ice. And suddenly, I’m no longer in this room.

The storm screams around me, the rooftop slick beneath my feet. My dress shoes slip against the stone as I run, breath ragged in my throat, cold rain stinging my face. The sky above cracks open with flashes of white lightning, lighting up her silhouette on the ledge.

Fioretta.

Her frame is small and trembling in the downpour, soaked through. Her hair sticks to her face in heavy strands, her body heaving with each breath.

I call out her name, but my voice is almost drowned by the wind. My steps are frantic, heart hammering so loud it rattles my ribs.