Chapter 6

“Get up,” Dante Romano’s deep voice cracked like a whip as he barged into Valentina’s room without knocking. His shadow stretched across the floor, covering the little light that filtered through her curtains.

Valentina froze where she sat on the edge of the bed, brushing out her long brown hair. The brush fell from her hand, immediately she heard his voice.

She lifted her face slightly, meeting his cold, possessive stare. “What do you want now?” she asked, though her voice trembled despite her effort to sound strong.

Dante smirked, closing the door behind him. “Be ready for me tonight.” His words were simple to him, but the sight of his face made her feel so irritated. “And be ready on Saturday—” he took a step closer, lowering his voice—“your engagement to my son will be arranged.”

Valentina’s heart skipped. Her engagement? Her lips parted, but no words came.

Dante leaned closer, his hand brushing a strand of her hair back with chilling gentleness. “Don’t waste energy fighting it. Your father sold you to me, you should blame him for borrowing from me and not being able to pay, now… you belong here. To me. To this family.”

Valentina wanted to scream, to spit in his face, but fear choked around her throat. She only managed to whisper, “You’re a monster.”

Dante chuckled, stepping away. “A monster who always gets what he wants.”

And then, as unexpectedly as he had come, he left. The heavy door shut with a thud that rattled her chest. Valentina sat frozen, staring at the brush on the floor, her fingers trembling against her lap.

On his way to Dominic’s office, Dante first made a stop at one of his drug houses—disguised, as always, as a fish processing company. The smell of fish filled the air and clung to the wall, mixed with the metallic scent of blood from the chopping tables.

“Where is she?” Dante asked as soon as he stepped inside.

The men froze, exchanging unusual glances. Finally, the overseer, a huge man named Rocco, stepped forward. “Boss, the new girl… she—she sneaked out last night. We’re still looking for her.”

The words hit like a bomb. Dante’s face rumpled, he tightened his jaw. His voice echoed across the warehouse. “You lost her? A girl brought to me? Do you fools realize what you’ve done?”

Rocco stammered, “Boss, we’ll—”

“You’ll do nothing if she isn’t found!” Dante snapped, slamming his fist against a crate so hard the wood shifted. “If she escapes from you, if the police or Conti’s men get a hold of her, she could ruin everything. If you don’t find her—” His eyes burned with brutal promise. “—I’ll kill every last one of you for your incompetence.”

The men dismissed, fear spread on their faces. Dante’s anger lingered like a storm cloud as he rushed back to his car.

He dialed Dominic’s number. After it rang then it still went straight to voicemail.

The smooth, automated voice sounded in his ears: “You’ve reached Dominic Cortez. Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

Dante hissed, shoving the phone back into his pocket, not knowing his lawyer was fighting for his life where he was.

Back at the office, Matteo held Dominic’s limp body to his arms, his pulse pounding like a war drum in his ears.

“Stay with me, babe. Please, stay with me!” His voice whispered cracking, desperation obvious in every word. Dominic’s eyes kept blinking and, then shut, his chest barely rising.

“No—no, no, no!” Matteo brought out his phone from his pocket with trembling fingers. He pressed the emergency number, his voice panicked when the operator answered.

“This is Matteo Romano—I need an ambulance right now! My—my lawyer, he’s been hit by a car, he’s unconscious, bleeding—please hurry!” His words tumbled over each other, scared and broken.

The operator’s calm voice tried to ground him. “Sir, stay calm. Can you confirm his breathing? Is he responsive?”

Matteo set his ear against Dominic’s lips, his own chest tightening. “He’s breathing, but it’s shallow. Please, I’m begging you—send someone now!”

“Units are on their way. Keep him awake if you can. Talk to him.”

Matteo dropped the phone beside him and cradled Dominic’s face in his palms. “Babe, please don’t leave me alone in this world. I’m ready to listen to you now. Whatever you were going to say—I’ll do it. Just don’t go, Dom. Don’t leave me.”

His tears fell, dripping onto Dominic’s shirt.

The wail of sirens cut through the air that afternoon, growing louder until flashing red lights painted the office parking lot.

Paramedics rushed out, lifting Dominic onto a stretcher. Matteo clung to his hand even as they worked. “Don’t take him without me!” he cried, his chest shaking.

“You can ride with us,” one medic said firmly, guiding him inside the ambulance. Matteo slid in, gripping Dominic’s hand like a lifeline.

But as the doors slammed shut, another pair of headlights pulled up outside.

Dante’s car.

The Don climbed out, eyes narrowing as he spotted Matteo inside the ambulance, his car parked nearby. His sharp mind put well together but lacked the most important information. His lawyer’s face remained hidden among the medics.

“Boss,” Marco said beside him, “what’s going on?”

Dante’s eyes narrowed. “That’s what I intend to find out. Follow me to the office.”

Inside Dominic’s office, the tension in the atmosphere was thick. Papers were scattered, his chair pushed aside, the faint smell of sweat still lingering.

“Where is he?” Dante demanded.

Jeff, Dominic’s assistant, looking pale and anxious, his hands trembling with the papers on his desk. “He—he was just in an accident now,” he stammered. “They took him to the hospital.”

Dante’s expression hardened.

Marco crossed his arms, lips curling into a faint smile. “I knew it. I noticed something was off between those two. They were hiding something.”

Dante’s head turned toward him. “Those two?”

Marco groaned, his eyes hovering. “Matteo and Dominic. I don’t know what it is, but I’ll find out.”

The Don’s silence was heavier than any threat.

Meanwhile, inside the ambulance, Dominic’s chest kept hitching violently. His body shaking, monitors beeping faster.

“He’s crashing!” one medic barked.

“No, no, no—” Matteo’s grip tightened on his hand. “Stay with me, Dominic! Please!”

The medics worked quickly, pushing oxygen, checking vitals, their voices urgent but controlled. Matteo leaned close, whispering constantly against his ear. “You’re not leaving me. Not like this. Not now. You hear me? You have to fight for me!”

Dominic’s eyelids fluttered, his lips moving weakly gasping for breath. Matteo pressed his forehead to his, tears streaming.

The machines beeped louder, scary and terrifying.

When they reached the hospital, the doors burst open. Medics wheeled Dominic straight into the emergency theatre. “He’s got deep bruises , possible internal bleeding!” one shouted as they vanished through swinging doors.

Matteo stood outside, heart racing against his ear, his hands trembling uncontrollably. His shirt was stained with Dominic’s blood.

Alone. Helpless. Terrified.

And then his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He pulled it out, staring at the screen.

Incoming Call: Papa.

He froze, his throat tightening, his finger hovering over the accept button.

On the third ring, he answered.

“Where are you?” Dante’s voice was calm, but beneath it was something unsure.

Matteo’s chest heavy, his heart pounding so loud he could barely hear himself breathe.