FAZER LOGINADRIANA’S POVI woke up to an empty space beside me. The sheets on Alessandro’s side of the bed were cool, the pillow looked undisturbed. For a moment I simply stared at the blankness and tried to remember if he had come to bed at all after the long night at the manor and the beach. The last clear image I could remember was of him tucking the covers around me and pressing a kiss to my forehead. After that the darkness had taken me. “Alessandro,” I called out as I sat up. There was no answer. I got out of bed and checked the bathroom, there was no sign of him. I checked the walk-in closet, and the small balcony that looked over the city. But he wasn’t there. A tight worry settled under my ribs. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and went downstairs barefoot, still in the singlet and soft pants I had slept in. The main living area smelled of coffee and warm bread. Luca spotted me first and launched himself across the floor with the pure certainty only a child possessed. “Mommy!”
ALESSANDRO’S POV I sat on the cold sand with my knees drawn up and my arms locked around them as the black ocean stretched out forever under the thin moonlight. The waves rolled in and crashed without mercy, each one dragging foam across the shore before pulling back again. Salt hung heavy in the air and stuck to my skin. My hands throbbed under the bandages from where I had driven them into the picture frame earlier, but I barely felt the sting. I felt nothing. I felt numb to feel or think about anything other than the truth I had just discovered. Don Vittorio’s face kept flashing behind my eyes. The man who raised me for twenty-two years. The man who called me son. The same man whose recorded confession and private journal had just proven he ordered the hit that slaughtered my real parents and left me an orphan he decided to keep. I had watched the video, I had read every page, but still the facts would not settle. How does a man love you that long and still be the reason
ADRIANA’S POVI could not stay still. The moment the front door closed behind Alessandro the house felt too large and too quiet at the same time. I knew where he had gone even though he had never spoken the words. He was driving toward the old manor and the study that held whatever truth waited inside those walls. It sat in my chest like a stone. What if everything he had been told was real? What if the man he had called father for more than twenty five years had truly ordered the deaths of his blood parents and then raised the orphaned boy as living penance? What if the weight of that reality broke him while he sat alone in a room full of ghosts? What if he breaks down and there is no one there to hold him? What if he locks the door so tightly that even Rocco cannot reach him? What if the pain turned reckless and he did something he could not take back? The questions chased one another through my head without mercy. I tried to lie down, but sleep refused to come. I went downstairs
ALESSANDRO’S POV I held Adriana against my chest in the back of the car as her tears soaked into my jacket. The tough armor she had worn through the Rossi compound had finally cracked, and the woman underneath was simply exhausted. I understood the performance. She had needed to walk into that house of black clothing and prove she would no longer shrink for anyone. The cost of the proof now shook through her in quiet sobs. “I’m so proud of you,” I murmured against her hair. “You did it. You cleared your mother’s name. She must be proud of you.” She drew one uneven breath, then another. The worst of the trembling eased. I stroked slow circles along her back until her shoulders dropped. “Do you want to go somewhere quiet for a while?” I asked. She shook her head against me. “No. I am okay. I just want to go home. I want to see Luca.” I let a small smile touch my mouth. “So our son is more important than I am?” A short, broken laugh escaped her. The sound was watery but real. I ti
ADRIANA’S POVI stepped through the entrance of the Rossi compound with my arm linked through Alessandro’s and let the red of my pantsuit do the first speaking. I had chosen the color with deliberate care. Black would have been another performance, another small surrender to the idea that Valentino deserved the theater of grief. I was done with performances. I was done shrinking myself because someone with power decided I should. The man whose death had gathered these people had been the largest villain in my life. Blood made him my father, but it did not make him worthy of my mourning. I had come for two reasons only. I wanted Cassandra and Vaelina to understand that their control over me had ended, and I intended to take back every piece of the life my mother had built. Rosaline’s money, her accounts, her companies, and the foundation of what the Rossi syndicate still claimed as its own belonged to her. I had spent days investigating everything, and I had the proof to back up my c
ALESSANDRO’S POVA full week had passed since the warehouse and the seven shots that ended Valentino’s life. His head reached Cassandra and Vaelina on the fifth day, long enough for the Rossi family to file the missing-person reports and begin the empty search that fooled no one who understood our world. Without a body there would be no burial and no marker. Tonight’s gathering was a formal memorial that also serves as an official political gathering. Valentino’s death has left a power vacuum, and the syndicates are watching to see who will claim influence over the Rossi family. I had spent every one of those seven days inside hospital walls that smelled of disinfectant and limitation. The doctors finally signed the discharge papers that morning. I was going home to my son. Adriana never left my side through the slow process of release. When the nurse placed the folded street clothes on the bed and told me to change, I simply looked at her. She understood at once. “Do you need hel
ADRIANA’S POVThe hospital room smelled of antiseptic and exhaustion. My heart hammered painfully as Doctor Cassian flipped through Luca’s chart with a grave expression that made my stomach twist. Rain pattered against the window, blurring the city lights outside into streaks of neon. “Miss Rossi,
ALESSANDRO’S POVI strode down the dimly lit west wing corridor, my footsteps echoing against the marble like distant gunshots. The meeting with my capos had stretched well into the night, leaving a sour taste in my mouth that no amount of whiskey could wash away. “Don, the evidence is clear, Vale
ADRIANA’S POVI followed Alessandro out of the club on legs that felt like they belonged to someone else. The rain had slowed to a miserable drizzle, but my clothes remained cold and heavy, plastered against my skin like a second layer of shame. The words I had spoken earlier still echoed in my mi
ALESSANDRO’S POV“Looks like the ground is crumbling faster than you expected,” I said quietly, my voice echoing across the deserted space. “Now tell me, Adriana. Are you ready to reconsider my offer?”I watched her spin around in the middle of the empty club floor like a broken doll caught in a st







