Erico’s POV
“She’s smart but can’t control her mouth.” I said looking at Angelo, one of our men."But she is trained. She can fight." He replied looking at the laptop in front of him.
"The big boss put this plan so you can gain the trust of Antonio Romano." Angelo said while accessing the cameras of Antonio's villa. "You have to go back down there." He said and I nodded.
I went back to the banquet and saw her dancing with Raffaele's son. I approached them and when it was time to change I took her hand and danced with her. She couldn't keep quiet.
After our short conversation, I ingnored her and kept dancing as the music stopped.
It was time now for our little show, as the announcer was talking I gave Angelo a sign. He immediately went into action, and he heard the gunshots.
She started running smartly and I knew that it was my chance. I had to lock her here.
"Angelo aim next to her." I said and the gunshots were mainly aimed at her. Her father was out watching from the window, wanting to come in, but was stopped by Matteo who was ready to come in.
I ran towards her and tried to grab her, but she was fast. Damn how hard is it to grab this girl. I started to get irritated, as my first mission have to be successful.
"Bianca!" She was disrtacted by Matteo calling her name and I smirked as it was now my chance.
I jumped at her shielding her with my body as the gunshot continued raining at us. I felt a bullet piercing my back. That fucker Vin it was all his plan. At least he could have given me heads up that I would get shot.
When the bullets stopped I got up grunting under my breath.
She looked around her before getting up, ignoring my hand. She looked at the blood on the floor and turned back to look at me with wide eyes.
"Shit you have been shot!" She exclaimed turnning around to look at my back.
"It's nothing." I replied.
"You have to come with us so we could inspect it." I smirked.
Going to the Romano's mansion.
Bianca's POV
"Dad." I exclaimed running towards him. He gave me a small hug and turned back towards Alessandro.
"Thanks for saving Bianca." He said.
We got into our cars while I put my jacket on his back to control the bleeding.
Alessandro was sitting a little hunched, but he wasn't grunting from the pain or anything.
"Bianca we have to talk about Matteo." Dad said putting his phone aside and looking straight into my eyes.
Alessandro looked bored ready to get out of the car as soon as possible.
"Dad I don't want to marry him. He only wants to take your place." I rolled my eyes.
"That's what you think Bianca. This world is bigger than what goes in your little head." He snapped and I kept quiet.
Once we arrived to the mansion, the family's doctor was waiting for us at the entrance. I tried to help Alessandro but he avoided me. I rolled my eyes and walked next to him towards the guest's room.
He removed my jacket, and tried to pull his shirt but it was impossible for him as it was sticky with blood. He kept his features unfazed.
I took the scissors and started cutting his shirt so we could remove it. His chieseld back came into view and I shivered as mt fingers touched his bloody back.
"Miss Bianca can you move." The doctor said and I nodded.
I moved to the corner and watched as the doctor pulled the bullet from his back. I wasn't a fatal wound, I knew that. I was experienced with wounds.
"I will now close the wound, it will sting a bit." The doctor said and Alessandro nodded curtly.
"Bianca your dad wants to see you." Clara said and I locked eyes with Alessandro's brown ones.
I turned my head and followed her outside, towards my dad's office. I heard talking and I knew he wasn't alone. I just hope it wasn't who I dread was inside.
I opened the door and entered the office, and thankfully it was just dad's men. They were all sitting in front of his desk and they looked at me.
"Bianca come in." I walked slowly under their watchful eyes.
"What is the matter?" I asked standing in the middle of the crowd.
"I found the perfect bodyguard for you Bianca." Dad said smirking.
He knows how much I hate being followed, and he is still searching for a follower to stay with me.
"Dad I can take good care of myself and you know that." I snapped.
"Watch your tone with me young lady." He said glaring at me and I backed away a little. I was intimidated by him even if he was my father. Although he never laid a hand on me, he can punish me still.
"And who will it be?" I asked.
"Alessandro. That man that saved you."
" But if I wasn't distracted by Matteo I would have gotten out with no obstacle." I tried to argue with him but the look in his eyes made shut up.
"Bianca my decision is final." He yelled and I turned out to leave.
Alessandro was standing by the door looking at the scene with bored eyes. Did my dad talk to him about the bodyguard position?
"I was just telling Bianca about you becoming her bodyguard." Dad addressed Alessandro. I saw a small smirk on his face.
Well shit. What am I getting myself into.
"But first, you have to pass a test." One of my dad's men said.
"Let him heal." Dad said dismissing everyone, following them out.
"Talk to her." He said to Alessandro and left closing the door.
"Well hello again, princess." Alessandro said walking slowly towards me like a predator.
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