Page 24 of Mafia Don's Secret Heir

My blood turns cold, but my pulse quickens. “Who are you?”

“A friend.”

“No, you’re not,” I say firmly. “You wouldn’t call me here, like this, if you were just a friend.”

There’s another pause, longer this time. When he speaks again, his voice is softer, almost coaxing. “I can give you everything you need, Valentina. A passport. Tickets. Enough money to start fresh anywhere you choose. Freedom.”

The word lodges in my throat, heavy and impossible.Freedom.

But the incredulity comes just as quickly. “And what’s the catch?” I ask, forcing steel into my voice. “You don’t know me. You don’t care about me. Why would you do this?”

The silence stretches again, but this time, it feels calculated. “I’ll be honest,” the man says finally. “I do need something in return. Something small, compared to what I’m offering.”

My heart sinks. Of course, there’s a price.

“What is it?”

“When the time comes,” he says, his voice dropping lower, “when Luca lets his guard down—when he’s distracted by his love for you—you’ll end him.”

My stomach plummets. “What?”

“You’ll kill him,” the man says simply, as though he’s asking me to change the linens or make a grocery list. “And I’ll help you run.”

I stare at the window, at the faint reflection of myself in the glass, pale and wide-eyed. My voice is barely a whisper when I finally manage to speak. “You’re insane.”

“Am I?” he counters, his tone maddeningly calm. “Think about it, Valentina. You’re a prisoner in that house. No matter how charming Luca can be, no matter how tender he is in fleeting moments, he will never let you go. You’ll always be his possession. This is your way out.”

“I—” My voice breaks, and I clutch the edge of the window sill, trying to steady myself.

“I’ve already sent proof,” he continues. “Check your phone.”

Almost on cue, a notification buzzes against my palm. I pull the phone away from my ear and swipe to the messages. There they are—screenshots of a passport with my picture and a Swiss bank account in my name.

My knees weaken, and I sink onto the edge of the bed.

“Why?” I ask, my voice barely audible. “Why would you ask something so impossible? If I kill him, half the country will want me dead.”

The man’s voice softens, almost kind. “They’ll never find you. Let’s just say we have a shared interest in seeing Luca gone. He’s a dangerous man, Valentina. This is a small price for your freedom.”

My mind races. Luca’s intensity, his control, the way he commands everything and everyone around him—he’s dangerous, yes. But kill him? Become the reason his empire crumbles?

“I need time,” I manage, my voice trembling despite my best efforts.

“Take all the time you need,” he replies. “But don’t wait too long. The window won’t stay open forever.”

The line clicks dead before I can say another word.

I sit there, the phone clutched in my hand, the weight of his offer pressing down on me.

The passport, the money, the escape, it’s all there, tantalizingly real.

But the price…

I glance at the door, half-expecting Luca to step in, to look at me with that intense, knowing gaze. And for the first time, I wonder: what would it mean to kill the man I’m starting to hate—and fear—and worst of all, crave?

9

LUCA