IN THE ARMS OF MY FORBIDDEN MAFIA ENEMY

“You shouldn’t even be here, Lorenzo.”The words came sharper than he Intended. Alessandro De Luca didn’t raise his voice, he never had to. He had that kind of tone that carried, able to silence a room with just a few syllables.Lorenzo, leaned back in his chair, one arm slung over the backrest. He let a smirk tug at the corner of his mouth, like his brother’s scolding was nothing but a fly buzzing in his ear. “Relax, Alessandro. It’s just a meeting, not a war. I'm not here to cause any trouble.”Alessandro’s dark eyes snapped toward him. They were colder than the whiskey in front of him. “That’s where you’re wrong. With Ricardo Cruz, every wromg word you utter, is a war and if you keep running your mouth, you’ll drag this family into one we can’t afford.”Lorenzo lifted the heavy glass of whiskey from the table, turning it slowly in his hand. He took a slow sip before replying. “And yet, here we are. Pretending to play nice with a man who would slit our throats in our sleep if he had

The night was too quiet. Lorenzo slipped out of the palazzo under the cover of darkness, a cigarette between his lips, jacket hanging loose over his shoulder. He told Alessandro he needed air. What he really needed was space.Space from the heavy weight of family loyalty. Space from the cold look in his brother’s eyes. Space from the ghost of his father that still lingered in the halls. And most of all, space from the memory that clung to him like a second skin, Mateo’s hand pulling him out of the line of fire.But space was cruel.The old port was nearly empty at this hour. The streets were slick with sea spray, lamps throwing long shadows across the stones. Lorenzo leaned against the hood of his car, flicking ash into the dark, when he heard it, footsteps. He didn’t turn. He didn’t need to.“I knew you’d come,” Lorenzo said, smoke curling from his lips.A figure stepped from the shadows. Mateo Cruz. Black suit, no tie His eyes caught the streetlight, dark, unreadable “You shouldn

The click echoed. Both Lorenzo and Mateo turned fast, instincts snapping to survival. A man stepped out of the shadows, pistol raised, steady as though he had been waiting for this moment. His face was hidden under a cap, his stance sharp and controlled. He wasn't some street thug. He was a damn professional.“De Luca,” the stranger said, his voice flat, touched with a northern accent. “Ricardo sends his regards.”The name cut through the air. Ricardo. How could he had found out?Lorenzo’s blood turned cold. But Mateo was already shifting. One wrong move and it would be over.Lorenzo forced a smirk back onto his face, even as his heart raced. “Tell Ricardo if he wants me dead, he should try it himself.”The gunman’s lip curled. “Orders don’t work that way.”He shifted the gun. Not at Lorenzo but at Mateo.Something inside Lorenzo snapped.“Down!” Lorenzo roared, slamming his shoulder into Mateo’s chest just as the shot cracked through the night. The bullet ripped into the hood of Lore

Two nights. That was all Ricardo had given him. Two nights to put Lorenzo's blood on his hands, or drown in it himself.Matteo sat alone in his apartment, the lights off, the blinds drawn. A single cigarette glowed between his fingers, the smoke curling in the air. The silence pressed heavy, broken only by the faint hum of a neighbor’s radio through the thin walls.He had thought, at first, that sleep might make the uneasiness go away. But it hadn’t. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Lorenzo.Lorenzo on the pier, his reckless grin even with a gun pointed at his head. He certainly was stupid to be joking around when something serious was going on. It was as if he was careless with his life.Lorenzo’s voice snapping, “Get off me, I don’t need saving.”Lorenzo’s eyes, bright, wild but alive, locking with his when the bullet missed by inches.Mateo ground the cigarette into the ashtray, his jaw tight.He shouldn’t be thinking about him. Not like this. Not when that same man’s name was

By the time Mateo and Lorenzo stumbled into the crumbling safehouse by the docks, dawn was already creeping over the city. The room smelled of rust and sea salt, broken windows letting in cold air.Lorenzo dropped into a chair, rubbing his wrists where the rope had cut deep. “So this is your grand escape plan?” he muttered, his voice rough. “Run, hide, wait for Ricardo’s men to blow our brains out?”Mateo ignored him. He stood by the window, scanning the streets, his gun in hand even though the clip was empty. His shoulders were tight, his face hard.“We don’t stay long,” Mateo said flatly.Lorenzo scoffed. “We don’t stay long,” he repeated mockingly. “That’s your master plan? Cruz, you just turned an entire firing squad against us. Ricardo’s going to hunt us like animals, and you’re standing there acting like you can outsmart him.”Mateo’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t answer.Lorenzo leaned forward, his eyes glinting with dark amusement. “You know what the funniest part is? He’ll forgiv