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Chapter Fifteen

Francesca

T his party is a terrible idea.

I don’t know the full reason behind it, but I know Dante. There’s always a reason, always something brewing behind those calculating eyes. He hasn’t said much, but I see it anyway. In the way his jaw stays tight even when he smiles. In the sleepless shadows carved beneath his eyes.

Something is wrong. Deeply, seriously wrong.

I don’t ask, of course. Whatever this is, it’s not my business. Not anymore. But I still notice. I still care, even if I tell myself it’s only because he’s the father of the children I love. Because anything more than that would be too dangerous.

Too close.

The twins are excited. Lucia can’t decide which dress she wants to wear, and Alessio has somehow convinced himself that pirates might be attending.

Their innocence is a balm, even when it exhausts me.

They don’t know the kind of wolves invited to this house tonight.

They don’t know that people will arrive smiling while hiding knives behind their backs.

But I do.

And I know a few of those knives might still be pointed at my own.

I turn to Lucia, who is twirling in front of her mirror.

“Lucia, sweetheart, no, not the sparkly tiara again,” I say gently as I adjust her braid. “We said party dress, not fairy queen of the seven realms.”

“But this is my important tiara,” she insists, clutching it to her chest. “What if there are royals?”

“Well,” I say, smoothing the fabric of her dress, “if any royals show up, they’ll be very impressed by how polished and elegant you are. But I need your eyes tonight, remember?”

She blinks at me. “For what?”

“To spot pirates. Or dragons. Or suspicious guests with hidden swords.” I widen my eyes dramatically and lower my voice to a whisper. “I can’t do it alone.”

Her face lights up, and she stands a little taller. “I am the best pirate spotter.”

“You absolutely are,” I murmur, kissing her forehead.

Alessio stomps into the room, tugging at the stiff collar of his little suit with all the rage of a betrayed prince. “I don’t like this. It’s scratchy.”

“You, my love,” I say, crouching to his level, “are a big boy now. You go to school. You read stories all by yourself. And tonight, you get to be part of a very fancy grown-up party.”

He pouts harder. “But pirates don’t wear suits.”

“No,” I admit, straightening his lapels. “But undercover pirates do.”

His eyes narrow with suspicion. “You promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

As I gather the final touches, bows, clean shoes, and Lucia’s emergency hair clip, I kneel between them, serious for just a moment.

“Listen to me. Tonight, there’ll be lots of people. I want you both to stay close. You stick with me or with Papa, Fulvio, or Bruno. No wandering. Understood?”

Lucia tilts her head. “Why? Are there really bad people coming?”

“No,” I lie with a smile. “But it’s a big house, and sometimes pirates sneak in where they’re not invited. You’re my guards, remember?”

Alessio puffs up. “I’ll find them first.”

“I know you will,” I say, hugging them both tightly and wishing I believed it was just a game.

“I feel safer already,” a voice says behind me.

I startle, turning to find Dante leaning casually against the bedroom doorway. He’s dressed to kill, of course. Sharp suit, hair slicked back, the picture of calm authority, but his eyes aren’t calm. They’re on me.

He smiles at the children first. “Ready? The guests are arriving.” Then his gaze lifts to mine. “Your father’s here.”

I nod, feeling the tight coil of tension wrap around my spine. Just two, maybe three hours. Long enough to play the part. Then I can get the twins to bed and vanish into my room.

“Do you need anything?” I ask. “Do you want to take them down with you?”

It makes sense. He can walk in as the proud father with the twins, and I can trail behind like the help. Which, technically, I am.

He frowns slightly. “Yes. I thought I’d keep them entertained a bit so you’d have time to get ready.”

I glance down at my outfit—a modest white blouse tucked into a long brown skirt. Neat. Clean. Unassuming.

“I am ready.”

He arches a brow. “Are you?”

“My hair is brushed. My blouse is ironed. I’m not wearing makeup because I’m not here to impress anyone.” I meet his eyes. “Why?”

“It’s just…” His expression shifts for a second, something uncertain flickering in the frustration. “It’s not exactly the look of a capo’s wife.”

“Ah,” I say, lifting my chin with a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. I clap my hands gently, ushering the children toward the door. “Then I suppose it’s exactly the look I want. ”

Lucia and Alessio squeeze past him, chattering excitedly down the corridor. But when I try to follow, Dante steps just slightly to the side, blocking my way, deliberately subtle.

“Why do you have to make everything so difficult?” he hisses under his breath, low and sharp, meant for me alone.

I smile again, even softer now. “You started the war, Dante Forzi. You don’t get to dictate how I fight it.”

The party is exactly what I feared—loud, bright, and crawling with tension, dressed in silk and tailored suits. Everyone smiles too much and laughs too loud, drinking wine like they’re not all here to measure each other’s weaknesses.

I stay close to the twins, one hand always on a shoulder or back. Alessio is surprisingly still, clinging to Dante’s leg like a shadow as he speaks with some men while Lucia fidgets beside me, picking at the tulle of her dress.

“Mermaid?” she whispers, tugging at my sleeve. “I’m hungry.”

“Didn’t you eat some of the little sandwiches?” I ask gently, crouching to eye level.

She wrinkles her nose. “They taste like soap.”

I glance at the buffet table of caviar, smoked salmon, and truffled nonsense. Of course.

“Okay. I’ll get you something else,” I say, brushing a kiss to her temple. “Stay here with Fulvio. Don’t move from his side, alright?”

She nods solemnly, and Fulvio gives a discreet nod as well, subtly shifting closer to her.

I step away from the main room, the noise thinning behind me as I head to the kitchen.

The overhead lights are dimmed in this part of the villa, the clinking of cutlery and occasional voices from staff the only sound.

I slip in, avoiding eye contact, and pull open the pantry door in search of plain bread or cheese, something Lucia will eat.

The pantry is dim and quiet, but when I exit, I’m not alone anymore,

My father is there. Too close. His presence hits me like a slap, all tailored suit and rotting menace. I freeze.

“Francesca,” he drawls as if we’re simply catching up. “How good it is to see you. You could have come and hugged your old father hello.”

“Tell me, where’s Mom? Hmm? Oh, that’s right… likely still trying to find a concealer thick enough for her bruises.”

His smile fades. “And how is your new role as a whore?”

I stiffen. His voice is calm, but each word is dipped in venom. “I see the way that man looks at you. You must be very good at what you do. He seems… attached.”

My chest tightens, and for a terrible, flickering moment, I want to believe it. But I force myself to shake my head. “You’re mistaken.”

“No,” he says smoothly, “no, I’m not. And I think… you could become useful again.”

A chill slides down my spine. “What do you mean?”

He smirks. “Get pregnant.”

My heart stumbles. “There will be no children.”

He waves his hand like I’m being dramatic. “Oh, please. He says that to you. But poke holes in the condoms, or forget your birth control. Accidents happen. You get pregnant.”

“And then what?” My voice shakes. “You kill him? Raise the baby like some kind of puppet heir?”

“Exactly. You’ll be the mother of the Forzi heir. And when we eliminate Dante and the boy, I’ll be the legal guardian. The real power.”

I go still. Ice-cold.

“There will be no baby. I can't have children.” I whisper.

“Those twins, Lucia and Alessio, they are the only grandchildren you will ever have. And you should consider yourself lucky because they are extraordinary. But if you ever try to touch them…” I step closer, my voice low and lethal.

“If you ever threaten them, I will find a way to kill you. Slowly. Loudly. No matter what it costs me.”

He watches me, unimpressed. “You love them?” His lip curls. “The children of the man who took you and raped you into submission?”

I flinch, but I don’t back down. “Dante didn’t rape me.” It’s the truth. And somehow, that makes it worse because my body accepted it. Because I never said no. I just… surrendered.

He hums, mockingly thoughtful. “No, I suppose he didn’t. Because you’re a whore.”

The word hits like rot, sour and slick. I don’t respond. I can’t. I want to vomit, but I stay standing.

He takes a step closer, his voice dropping like poison into water. “Tell you what. We take Dante out. You raise his heir. I hold the throne for fifteen years, and then… boom. Our blood controls the Forzi.”

“You don’t know anything,” I say coldly. “If Dante dies, I have no rights to the twins. None. His uncle takes custody. And all your brilliant little fantasies die with him. ”

His expression shifts, just for a second, and I see it: the flicker of uncertainty. The rage beneath.

“So you’re useless.”

“Pretty much, yeah. But that’s a woman’s lot, isn’t it?” I straighten my spine, my voice like ice. “But here’s the thing, I might be a whore, and I might be useless, but I’ve got something you’ll never have.”

He sneers. “Oh? Enlighten me.”

“Loyalty.”

His face tightens.

“And every disgusting word you just said to me?” I take a step forward, close enough to see the crack in his mask. “I’ll bring it back to Dante. I think he already suspects you’re making a move, but I’ll confirm it.”

His expression curdles. “What do you think he’ll do, huh? You think this is just about you and me? You stupid girl.” He shakes his head. “It’s bigger than both of us.”

I hold his gaze, fire burning in my chest. “Then maybe it’s time someone burned it all down.”