INICIAR SESIÓNMirella The afternoon sun filters through the library windows as I pack up my notes. Elara has been watching me all day with that sharp, knowing look she gets when she senses I’m hiding something big. I’ve managed to avoid being alone with her until now, but as we leave the library together, she grabs my arm and pulls me aside into a quiet corner near the stairwell. “Mirella,” she says, voice low but firm. “Stop. I’ve been patient. I’ve played along with the rest of the group, pretending I believe your ‘it’s just stress’ excuses. But I know you. Something is seriously wrong. And it’s not just the engagement.” I swallow hard, gripping the strap of my bag. “Elara…” “No.” She cuts me off, eyes intense. “You’ve been digging into something about your mother. I saw the searches on your laptop last week when you left it open. Medical records. Old case files. You’re looking for answers about her death, aren’t you?” My heart pounds. Elara has always been too perceptive for her own
Mirella Morning light filters through the dorm curtains, harsh and unforgiving. I lie in bed staring at the ceiling, the diamond ring sitting on my nightstand like a shackle. My body still carries the marks from Silvano last night — faint bruises on my hips, his scent lingering on my skin. The engagement announcement is official now. The whole city knows. And I feel like I’m drowning. My phone buzzes nonstop. Messages from friends, distant relatives, even acquaintances congratulating me. I ignore most of them and open the group chat. Elara: WTF Mirella. The news is blowing up. You’re finally engaged! Call us. Giulia: Girl, we need details ASAP. That ring is insane. Nerina: We’re coming over. Don’t even try to hide. I groan and drag myself out of bed. A hot shower helps clear some of the fog, but the knot in my stomach remains. When I step out, the girls are already waiting in the common area, armed with coffee and expectant looks. “Spill,” Elara demands the second I
Silvano The announcement is everywhere. Every news site, every gossip column, every social media feed carries the same images: Mirella in that crimson dress, smiling beside Tiziano as he slips the diamond onto her finger. The headlines celebrate the powerful alliance between the Salviati and Vescari families. A union of strength. A new chapter for the city’s elite. I stand in the shadows of her dormitory room, rain still clinging to my coat, watching her pace in front of the mirror. The dress is still on her body. The ring still glints on her finger. Something dark and violent twists in my chest. She turns when she senses me and freezes. Her eyes flash with that familiar mix of anger and heat. “You shouldn’t be here,” she hisses, keeping her voice low. “Not tonight. Not after what just happened. My father is probably still celebrating with Tiziano’s family. If anyone saw you—” I cross the room in three strides and grab her by the waist, pulling her hard against me. My mo
Mirella The dress is beautiful. Deep crimson, elegant, expensive. It clings to my body in all the right places while still looking modest enough for my father’s approval. I stand in front of the mirror in my dorm room, staring at my reflection like a stranger. Elara, Giulia, and Nerina hover around me, offering compliments and adjustments, but their voices feel distant. Tonight is the night. The official engagement announcement. “You look stunning,” Elara says, adjusting the strap on my shoulder. “Seriously, Tiziano is going to lose his mind.” I force a smile. “That’s the plan.” Giulia leans against the wall, arms crossed. “You still don’t seem excited. This is supposed to be a big deal.” “I’m just nervous,” I lie smoothly. “It’s a lot of pressure.” Nerina hugs me from behind. “We’ll be there in spirit. Text us if you need an escape plan.” I laugh, but it sounds hollow even to my own ears. If only they knew the real reason my stomach is in knots. Not because of Tiziano. Becau
SilvanoThe rain has stopped, but the city still glistens under streetlights as I stand on the rooftop across from the dormitory. My binoculars rest heavy in my hands. From here, I can see the faint glow of her window on the third floor. She’s probably studying, arguing with her notes the way she argues with me — stubborn, brilliant, unrelenting.I should leave. I should be meeting with Ciro to discuss how we’re feeding Luciano more information. Instead, I’m here again. Watching. Waiting. Like a dog chained to a post it refuses to leave.This is what she’s done to me.I lower the binoculars and lean against the concrete ledge, jaw clenched so tight it aches. I am Silenzio. I have killed men for looking at me wrong. I have burned families alive on orders and slept like a baby afterward. Emotion was a weakness I carved out of myself years ago.Until her.Mirella Salviati.The daughter of the man I once took orders from. The girl I was supposed to put a bullet in. Now she’s the only thin
SilvanoThe university campus sprawls below me like a hunting ground. I stand on the rooftop of the adjacent building, raincoat collar turned up against the light drizzle, binoculars steady in my hands. From this position, I have a perfect view of the law faculty courtyard where Mirella sits with her friends and a group of classmates.She laughs at something one of the males says — a tall, clean-cut guy in a button-down shirt who leans too close when he speaks. My jaw tightens. The urge to put a bullet between his eyes flares hot and sudden. I breathe through it, but the jealousy coils tight in my chest like a living thing.She is mine.Not his. Not Tiziano’s. Not anyone else’s.Mirella brushes her hair back from her face, arguing with the group about some legal technicality. Even from this distance, I can see the fire in her eyes, that stubborn spark that makes me want to pin her down and remind her exactly who she belongs to. She looks alive here — the brilliant law student fighting







