Bianca’s POV
“There is an important matter Bianca.” Dad said sitting behind his desk. My dad doesn’t keep me in the dark like the other mafia bosses. He keeps me updated about everything. “What happened?” I asked him. “Vincenzo and the Russians will be holding a meeting in the next few days. I want you to slither yourself between them.” He smiled for the first time since forever. “I won’t disappoint you, father.” I said as I started preparing a plan in my head. We need as many information as possible of the Mercanti family. In order to finish them, we have to prepare for a war, one we are sure we won’t lose. We can’t lose. We already lost a lot, by losing my mother. It was their time now to start losing. “What are you thinking about?” I was so lost in my head, that I didn’t see Alessandro coming towards me. “Nothing.” I shrugged walking past him. Alessandro stopped me by holding my elbow firmly. As cringy as it is, my heart did a flip and I looked into his boiling eyes. “Don’t walk past me, princess.” He hissed. “You don’t talk to me like that.” I snapped back while promptly looking into his eyes. His captivating brown eyes. “I am your bodyguard. I need to know your whereabouts.” He said pulling me closer to him. I wanted to pull away, but I couldn’t. He has this commanding aura, like he was born to be a leader and not a bodyguard. What are his deepest secrets. I want to know what this man is hiding. He has demons circling inside his eyes, and I knew he saw horrors in his life. And maybe he was the horror. I don’t know what this man has done in his life. I don’t know anything about him, yet I trust him. I trust him with my life. But I still am adamant that I don’t need a bodyguard. He will only step in my way, and I have to be focused on the mission my dad gave me. It wasn’t a simple one, as I had to be included in the meeting of one of the smartest bosses, and his Russian father in law. That bastard will pay for whatever he has done to us before. “Get away from me Alessandro.” I said. “I can’t do that, princess. What I can do is far imaginable for you.” He walked me until I was trapped between him and the wall. I gulped, we were so close that his spicy scent filled my nostrils. There was a tension between us, one that can cut anything. In that moment I wanted to pull him towards me. Make him come closer until everything in our body is touching. I wanted to see what his plump lips would taste like. But that would mean I will be killed. No intimacy between a mafia princess and her bodyguard. Especially not one that is to be wedded to another mafia prince. Both my dad and Matteo would kill me, even though I refuse to marry Matteo. “Do you want me to kiss you, princess?” Alessandro smirked looking between my eyes and my lips. I was at a loss of words in that moment and couldn’t reply as I looked at him, my mouth partly open. “Stay away.” I managed to say as I duked under and his arms, and put some distance between us. “I will know what that little brain of yours is up to.” He said backing away. I started panting like I ran a marathon. How could he have so much influence on me. He shouldn’t. I have to stay away from him. We can’t have a connection between us. I have a goal now, and that doesn’t include f**cking my bodyguard. As much as we have a connection, I have a revenge to think about. I have to stay focused, and not let him control me. I went up to my room, thinking of the ways, I will get into the inner circle of the Mercanti meeting. Erico’s POV What the fuck am I doing. I was standing in front of the mirror in my bathroom. I would never kiss her. That little monster has a bad influence on me. I have to keep her away yet close to me. I have a mission, and that is to end her father’s bloodline, if he thinks of getting close to Vin and Violet. Or any of their children. I know there is something going on, as Vin promptly held the meeting here. He wants to see what Antonio is capable of. What plan he is brewing. I am sure that his little monster is on with his plans of revenge. And I had to know what they are planning, to report back to Vin. My phone started ringing and I picked it up immediately looking at the caller ID. “Vin.” I said. “Erico. What news do you have?” He asked. “There is a plan going on, and his daughter will be included in it. I feel like he will be sending her to the lion’s den.” I smirked looking at myself. “Good. That’s what we want anyways. I want you to come with her. Violet has been nagging me about seeing you and making sure you are okay.” I sighed knowing that Violet won’t stop at anything to fulfill what she wants. “Fine I will be there.” I hung up the phone putting it back in my pocket. That fool Antonio trusted me way too fast. Well it is for my advantage, but whatever. “One will win this game Antonio and it won’t be you.” I said walking back into my room. I just have to gain Bianca’s trust so that she starts telling me all that’s going on in her little head.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