Erico Moretti has always been a loyal enforcer for the most ruthless mafia family in Italy. But when his boss, the mafia king Vincenzo, tasks him with bringing down rival mafia boss Antonio Romano, he’s given a dangerous mission: infiltrate the Romano empire as Bianca Romano’s bodyguard. Bianca, the sheltered yet fiercely independent daughter of Antonio, is the key to unraveling her father’s secrets. At first, Erico sees Bianca as nothing more than a pawn in his deadly game. She’s sharp, confident, and far more perceptive than he expected—qualities that make his job even harder. But when a sudden threat forces them into a marriage of convenience to protect her from her father’s enemies, Erico finds himself tangled in a web of deceit, loyalty, and blood. But in the world of crime and betrayal, no one is safe, and when secrets are exposed, their lives will hang by a thread. Will Erico choose vengeance, or will Bianca be the one to teach him that loyalty and love are not always at odds?
view moreErico’s POV
“I know you will do your best.” Violet said patting my back while holding 4 years old Aurora. The mafia king’s first born. I nodded frowning at her. I knew my time will come. A time where I will leave my family. And even though I was prepared it still feels like I am leaving a piece of me here. Damn, I was never a cheesy man. Violet wiped her tears taking Aurora out of the room with her. I sighed looking at Vincezo while he watched every step Violet took and smirked at him. Even 5 years later and he is still head over heels for her. Cringe. “Don’t diverge from the plan Erico. From now on your name is Alessandro Moretti. You will be the bodyguard of Bianca Romano. That fücker Antonio is still planning against me.” He sat back down on his chair. “I hope I could see Erico while handling a female.” Gio smirked and I flipped him off. “He already handles Violet and Aurora he will be fine.” Mario laughed. If only I could kill them both. But that would make Violet mad and I hate to be on her bad side. Vincenzo ignored them both as he handed me my new phone. “Don’t forget for who is your loyalty Erico.” Vin stared at me with a glint in his eye. As if I would ever betray these men. My men. “Yes boss.” I replied making sure that he understands that my loyalty lies with him. “Good. You will leave tomorrow at dawn.” I nodded leaving the meeting room and going to my room to pack my stuff. “Cole! Oh my god!” Greta was running behind 2 years old Cole. Vin’s second kid. Cole was the one that made them stop wanting kids. He is a walking headache. I stopped him from running, bending to his level and smirking. “Where are you going?” I asked and he giggled. Good to know that both Aurora and Cole aren’t scared of anyone in this place, including me. “Dada! Dada!” He said pointing towards the meeting room. “Thank god.” Greta took him into her arms and went in the opposite direction. I shook my head and kept going. I will be leaving in a couple of hours. I will no longer be Erico, but Alessandro Moretti. The name sounds strange, but I have to get used to it. I can’t fail them. They have done so much for me and I can’t but repay them. “Heard you are leaving.” I turned around to see Konstantin standing in front of me. Konstantin Siankovski, Violet’s father and the Russian mafia king. “Yes.” I replied curtly. “Good luck son.” He nodded and went to Vin’s office. I doubt it will be good. ———————————— Bianca’s POV. “Tell him I said no.” I rolled my eyes dismissing Dominic. “But miss. He is the most fitting figure to be your bodyguard.” “Tell my father that I don’t need one.” I hissed and he nodded leaving me alone. I knew as a mafia daughter I need a bodyguard. But I hate someone following my every step. I hate being observed especially if it’s to report to my father. Since I was a kid I had to be followed, especially after my mom and I were attacked by the Russian mafia. Dad chose this life for us. He was a mere man that decided to overthrow the mafia boss and take his place. He had to bare the consequences, even though our life was better now. Behind closed doors, I know nothing of my dad’s business. I only know that ever since my mom was killed by the Russians, he is planning revenge. The only thing I know is that the mafia king, Vincenzo Mercanti married the daughter of Konstantin Siankovski, the one who ordered the attack on us. Now my father is planning to overthrow the Italian mafia king. But Vincenzo is known to be a ruthless man. He kills with no remorse, especially with his men, Gio, Mario, Paolo and Erico. I’ve heard many stories about Erico that makes me have goosebumps, and I never want to be on his bad side. He is the only man of the mafia that no one has seen. Or no alive person ever saw him. “Miss Romano.” I looked up to see my maid, Clara entering my room. “What is it?” I asked. “Boss said that you have a banquet tomorrow. You have to get ready early.” I nodded knowing well my duties. As the heiress of my father’s mafia, I have to be present in these banquets even though I don’t want to. I dream of a life away from all this drama. I don’t even want to be the heiress, but my thirst for revenge for my mother gives me power. Everything I will do and have done, is for my mother. She sacrificed her life for me and I can only repay her by killing the Russian’s mafia king’s heiress. Valeria Siankovski. I will kill her with my bare hands very soon. I can protect myself better than anyone can ever protect me. Because even though my father kept me in the dark, I have always had trainings. I can kill 5 men with the blink of an eye. My dad made sure to do so. I got up as it’s dinner time, and I never skip dinner with my father. Not ever since mom was killed. He’s not the best dad in the world, but at least he loves me and protects me. “Sit down Bianca.” Dad said as soon as I entered the dining room. “Thanks dad.” I said taking my seat, followed my dad’s best men. “I want a plan soon. They have taken it so far.” Dad’s voice boomed inside the room, while I ate casually my food. “Siankovski is in the United States visiting Vincenzo.” Matteo said. “Vincenzo betrayed us. He put his hand in Siankovski’s hand. Italians and Russians were never allies.” Dad hissed and the majority nodded their heads. “When will you announce Bianca and my son’s engagement?” I nearly spit my food and looked at Matteo with wide eyes. His father Raffaele Ricci was smirking as he looked at my father. “This is not the best time to talk about this matter.” My father dismissed him, but I knew that they are adamant on making me the wife of Matteo Ricci. The man I hate with my whole heart. He is a player and the only reason he wants to marry me is to become the next mafia boss of the Golden Serpent. In his dreams.Bianca's POVPlans were safest when no one looked too closely.I had perfected the art of slipping through cracks — between surveillance feeds, guard rotations, and suspicious glances. I used timing like a weapon. Smiles like daggers. My father always said a real queen never raises her voice—she sharpens her silence.But today, the silence cracked.And Matteo heard it.---------------------------------------------------I was in the garden corridor, rehearsing my alibi with Clara when the message came.She palmed it to me while pretending to arrange orchids. No words. Just a symbol drawn in red ink: a circle with a slash through it.The old signal.Abort.Clara never used it lightly.I walked away before she could explain. My pulse pounded as I moved fast, cutting across the east wing and through the wine vault to the greenhouse.Inside, everything was still where I left it.The burner phone. The bag. The passport.The map.But someone had been here.The dust on the table was smeared.
Bianca's POVThe world outside my window had gone silent.Not in the way it does when people sleep.But in the way it does when something is waiting to break.I sat alone in the old music room, the one no one used anymore. Dust clung to the keys of the untouched piano, and moonlight spilled through the cracked stained glass like liquid ghosts. I hadn't meant to end up here, but my feet had led me like they remembered something my mind didn't.The chandelier above was swaying slightly, though there was no wind.I lit a candle on the side table and set the old phonograph spinning. A low, broken melody began to hum through the space — something soft, something fractured. My mother used to play it in the mornings. She said it helped her remember who she was before the Romani name was sewn into her skin.I pressed my fingers against the keys. Not hard enough to make sound. Just enough to feel the cold beneath them.It was strange, how silence could feel louder than violence.How quiet made
Bianca's POVThere was something about the way Matteo stood in my doorway that told me he didn't knock to be polite.He leaned against the frame, arms crossed, suit perfect, smile sharp enough to peel skin. Like always. But this time, there was something different beneath it.A twitch in his jaw.A tension in his eyes.He was hunting something."Come in, or leave," I said coolly, not looking up from the notes I was scribbling. My desk was mostly clear — the real plans already burned, memorized, or hidden in the spine of an old French novel beside me.He stepped in. Closed the door softly."You've been... quiet lately."I kept writing. "And here I thought that was your favorite version of me."He chuckled. "It's not the silence that worries me. It's the direction of it."I stopped mid-sentence.Then looked up slowly. "What direction is that?""The one that leads away from us."I leaned back in my chair. "You've been talking to yourself too much again.""No," he said, stepping closer. "
*Bianca's POV* The ink had begun to fade on the flight record, but the name still bled through like an old wound:Daniella Romano.Not Violet. Not Konstantin. Not any of the Siankovskis I'd grown to loathe.This name was unfamiliar. Unspoken. Forgotten.But somehow—central.I stared at the grainy surveillance photo clipped beside the record. A woman in a scarf, exiting a private jet at a small airstrip near Saint Petersburg. The date was exactly one week after my mother's death. Her face was mostly obscured—but there was something about her posture. The tension in her shoulders. The way her hand curled protectively around the little girl clinging to her side.That child...The curls. The height. The tilt of the chin.It couldn't be—But it was.Violet.Years younger. But unmistakable.I sank onto the edge of the couch, staring at the image.What the hell was going on?Violet had grown up in Russia?With this woman—Daniella?Why was she never mentioned? Not by my father. Not by the co
*Bianca's POV*The estate had grown quieter since the Mirazza attack.Not in the comforting way that comes after danger passes, but in the suffocating hush that follows a funeral no one admits is happening.The guards were tenser. Clara avoided my eyes when I passed her in the hallway. My father had retreated into his study, locked behind wood and whiskey. Matteo hovered, smug and smugger, like he knew something I didn't.And Alessandro—He was colder than usual, if that was even possible. Since the ambush, he'd followed me like a silent shadow, never speaking unless necessary, never looking at me longer than he had to. But I felt the difference.There was distance now.And I hated it.- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -I returned to the east wing just after midnight.It was the only time no one dared step near it. Not the maids. Not the guards. Not even the rats.My fingers moved quickly across the old lock, the one I'd learned to pick two years ago while pretendin
*Bianca's POV*The smoke was still rising when we returned.The sun hadn't yet cleared the eastern cliffs, and already the Mirazza estate looked like the corpse of a kingdom—blackened, broken, and oddly still. Windows gaped like shattered eyes. Half the eastern wing had collapsed. Charred marble columns leaned like dying soldiers. It smelled of fire, ash, and blood.Two armored vehicles met us at the gate. Our insignia painted across the doors, flashing silver in the dawn.My father stepped out of the first one.Antonio Romano, Mafia Don. A man who rarely showed anger unless it served a purpose.Right now, he looked livid.And I wasn't sure if it was because I was alive—or because I'd survived something he hadn't orchestrated.-----------------------------------------------"Where the hell were you?" he snapped the moment I stepped out.Beside me, Alessandro moved subtly closer. Just enough to remind everyone that I wasn't unguarded."I was avoiding being blown up," I said flatly. "Yo
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