Chapter 4

FIORELLA’S POV

My mother used to say the man you meet at nineteen will hurt you most.

Unfortunately for me, I met two.

One was dead.

And the other was sitting beside me.

The drive was quiet except for the sound of my harsh breathing.

Rhys stared out the window, not bothering to spare me a glance while Vani sat in the front passenger seat.

The door beside me was locked, and there was no possible escape.

I turned to look at Rhys. “Can we talk?”

A muscle twitched in his jaw but he didn’t respond.

The car slowly pulled up to a warehouse.

Rhys got out first, then opened my side of the car and grabbed my arm, dragging me out roughly.

I struggled against his hold to no avail. “Let me go.”

He didn’t.

He dragged me with him as we approached a white van a few yards away.

A few men stepped out of the building with guns in their hands, all of them looking like they had crawled straight out of a crime film.

He finally let me go.

I glanced around, searching for any escape routes.

There was none.

The driver of the van and another man in the passenger seat stepped out of it when they saw us.

“Don Gravari,” the driver said, bending his head slightly. “I got your white girl in the van.”

The other man opened the back doors of the van, revealing tightly wrapped white parcels inside.

Rhys ignored him and gestured at a man in front of the building.

He came rushing to us.

“Don mio,” the man said, bowing his head. “We have checked the package as you instructed.”

“And how much is it, Lieutenant?” Rhys asked.

“One and a half ton, Don,” the man responded.

Rhys slowly turned to the driver of the van. “It was supposed to be two tons. Where’s the last half?”

All eyes turned to him.

The driver glanced at the men around him, hesitating. “I owed the men at the port. They took it from me even though I tried to stop them.”

Everyone turned to Rhys, waiting for him to speak.

He didn’t immediately.

He stepped closer to the driver and placed his hands on his shoulders. “Are you trying to fuck with me?”

The place suddenly turned tense.

The driver shook his head. “Of course, not. I couldn’t stop them, Don—”

“I own the men at the port!” Rhys shouted suddenly.

I jumped in shock.

He was still holding the man’s shoulder. “They know better than to touch my stuff. Tell me the truth.”

The driver’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes darting between Rhys and the men standing around us.

“I—I’m telling you the truth, Don,” he said, but his voice had lost whatever confidence it started with.

Rhys exhaled deeply and stepped away from him.

Before I could even blink, another man with burn scars on his neck stepped closer and knocked the driver down.

“Wait, wait, wait,” the driver begged. “I’ll tell you the truth.”

Rhys waved at the scarred man to move away. “You have two minutes before I kill you.”

My pulse spiked.

I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears.

“I had something to settle,” the driver said. “I told them not to take it but they wouldn’t listen.”

Rhys tilted his head slightly.

“Let me help you,” he said. “You saw an opportunity and you stole half, thinking I wouldn’t notice like the previous Dons you stole from.”

The driver shook his head quickly. “No—Don, I would never—”

Rhys raised a finger to his own lips, hushing the driver. “You would because you didn’t expect the Don to care about small shipping issues.”

The man’s lips parted, but no words came out.

Rhys leaned closer, lowering his voice just enough to force everyone to listen harder.

“That was your first mistake.”

The man’s face drained of colour.

“Your second mistake…” he continued, “was lying to me about it.”

The driver’s breathing grew uneven. “Please, Don. I can fix it. Give me a few days—”

“It’s not about the money,” Rhys said with a smile, taking another step back. “It’s about principles. I can’t have tiny rats like you thinking they can get away with shit like this.”

The driver broke into a sob, speaking inaudibly in Italian as he crawled to hold Rhys’s leg, begging for his life.

“Lascia che questo serva da avvertimento per tutti voi,” Rhys said, raising his voice as he addressed everyone. “Nothing goes around here without my notice.”

Killing the driver over half a ton seemed a little excessive, especially after he promised to pay it back.

I hoped Rhys would forgive him, he was never the type to—

A shot rang through the air.

I watched as the life left the driver’s eyes before falling to the ground, a bullet wound in his head.

My hearing muffled.

I couldn’t tell who fired, all I could hear was the persistent ringing in my ears.

“You have twenty hours to get the rest,” I faintly heard Rhys say. “Or you’ll die like your boss did.”

Then his hand suddenly grabbed me again and dragged me towards the building.

I struggled to keep pace with him.

The high-pitched ringing in my ears refused to fade.

The image of the driver crumpling to the ground flashed behind my eyelids every time I blinked.

The warehouse doors burst open and frigid air from the AC slammed into me the moment we crossed the threshold.

Men moved through the space hauling crates and firearms, yet no one spoke to us. No one let their gaze linger on Rhys for more than a second.

I swallowed back the fear crawling up my throat and held my head up.

My arm was finally released when we stepped into a private office at the far end of the second floor of the warehouse.

Vani stayed outside and slammed the door shut behind us.

I staggered back a step and stared at Rhys in horror. “You killed him.”

Rhys loosened the cuffs of his black shirt like nothing unusual had just happened. “So?”

“What kind of insane question is that?” My voice shook. “You shot him in the head!”

“And?” he asked.

My mouth parted.

I expected him to change with time.

I just wasn’t prepared for this version of him.

This was someone else entirely.

“You kidnapped me,” I whispered. “And now you’re murdering people in front of me?”

His expression darkened. “Careful with your words, Fiorella.”

I bit back my tongue.

Something dark flashed across his expression.

“You didn’t care about me enough to lie to me, but suddenly you’re empathetic towards a thief?”

Pain twisted through my chest. “Rhys—”

“No,” his voice rose. “Don’t say my fucking name like that.”

Silence fell between us as we stared at each other.

His phone rang.

He held my gaze for a second longer before answering, speaking Italian in a low tone.

I was left there staring at him, noticing how much more dangerous he had become with age.

And somehow, even more handsome.

He no longer resembled the shy boy I used to sneak out to meet by the lake at night.

That version of Rhys was gone.

The man standing in front of me now looked harder, colder, and devastatingly confident in a way that made my stomach tighten.

Worse… my body still noticed him.

And that hurt the most.

Because we could have had… everything.

Rhys ended the call and started toward me slowly, tall and intimidating.

His presence swallowed the entire room, and for the first time in years, desire stirred inside me.

I took several steps back until my body hit the door, and I had to tilt my head up to hold his gaze.

Memories of him came rushing back to me—of his body, his hands, and his… tongue.

A slow smirk appeared on his face. “You didn’t think I forgot about that day by the lake, did you?”

His voice sent a shiver through me.

Fourteen years ago, he promised I would regret breaking his heart.

Back then, I thought he was bluffing.

And after crossing paths occasionally three years ago, I thought he had forgotten. Or moved on.

I was wrong.

The way he was looking at me now—with raw, unfiltered hate—terrified me.

I swallowed hard and looked away from him.

That was when I noticed the papers he was holding up.

My stomach dropped.

Marriage papers.

“No,” I said, shaking my head before he could even speak. “No. Just go straight to it and kill me instead.”

He lifted his hand, causing me to flinch but to my utmost surprise, he brushed his knuckles against my cheek with a softness that made the hairs on my neck rise.

Maybe it was from fear or something else, but I didn’t want to find out.

His voice came out low. “You’re still too beautiful to kill yet, Fiorella. I need to ruin you first.”

Then he pulled away before I could react.

The warmth and tension I felt suddenly snapped, a cold feeling creeping into my bones.

He walked back to the desk, his back to me. “From now on, you’re mine to toy with. Mine to do with as I please.”

My thoughts stalled.

Rhys sat on his chair and leaned back into it, spreading his legs like a king—which he was.

“I own you, Fiorella.”

Then he tapped his lap twice.

“Come sit.”