MAFIA INNOCENT ANGEL

CHAPTER ONE

**★ Cassie's POV ★**

I shouldn't have been at the gala.

Uncle Javin made that clear when he shoved the invitation at me three hours ago. "The Roglases need to look united," he'd said, straightening his tie in the hallway mirror. "That means you show up, smile, and don't embarrass us."

So here I was, trapped in a black dress I didn't choose, in a Venetian palazzo filled with people who'd sell their souls for the right price. Crystal chandeliers dripped light across marble floors. Champagne flowed. Conversations hummed with the kind of secrets that got people killed.

I stayed near the edges, counting the minutes until I could leave.

That's when I saw him.

He stood near the terrace doors, dark suit sharp enough to cut, surrounded by men who looked like they were paid to break bones. But it was him everyone watched. Tall, composed, with the kind of presence that made the air feel heavier. His eyes swept the room with cold calculation, seeing everything.

When those eyes landed on me, I forgot how to breathe.

He didn't look away. Neither did I. Something passed between us, electric and wrong, like touching a live wire. My instinct screamed at me to move, but my feet stayed frozen.

A waiter passed too close. I stepped back to avoid him and collided with someone behind me. Champagne exploded across expensive fabric.

"Merda," a low voice cursed.

I spun around. It was him. Champagne dripped down his black suit jacket, the glass I'd knocked from his hand shattered on the floor between us.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't...." The words died when I looked up at his face.

Up close, he was devastating. Sharp jaw, dark eyes that held no warmth, a mouth set in a hard line. But it wasn't his looks that made my stomach drop. It was the recognition in his gaze, like he'd been looking for me.

"Cassandra Roglas," he said. Not a question.

Ice slid down my spine. "How do you know my name?"

"Everyone here knows the Roglas name." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping champagne from his hands with slow, deliberate movements. His accent was Italian, refined, dangerous. "Though you don't seem eager to claim it."

"I don't know what you mean."

"No?" His eyes tracked over my face, reading something I didn't want him to see. "You've been trying to disappear into the walls since you arrived. Either you're afraid of someone in this room, or you don't want to be found."

My heart hammered. "You're reading too much into...."

"Rafael."

A man appeared at his elbow, leaning in to whisper something. Rafael's eyes never left mine as he listened. Then his expression shifted, something sharp and assessing sliding into place.

"Excuse me," he said, and turned away.

I should have been relieved. Instead, I felt the loss of his attention like a physical thing.

He stopped two steps away, glancing back. "Be careful tonight, Cassandra. This crowd isn't as civilized as it pretends."

Then he was gone, swallowed by the crowd with his entourage trailing behind.

I stood there, pulse racing, champagne soaking into the hem of my dress. What the hell was that?

"Making friends?" Ruby appeared beside me, her voice dripping with mockery. She looked perfect in red silk, playing the role of Roglas princess like she was born for it. "That was Rafael Montez. Mafia boss. Very dangerous. Very off-limits."

My stomach twisted. Mafia.

"Uncle Javin would have a stroke if he saw you talking to him," Ruby continued, examining her nails. "The Montez family and our... associates have a complicated history. Stay away from him."

She drifted off to charm some politician, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.

Rafael Montez. Mafia boss. And he knew my name.

---

I left the gala an hour later, slipping out while Uncle Javin was distracted. The night air off the canal was cool against my flushed skin. I'd walked three blocks before I realized someone was following me.

Footsteps behind me, matching my pace.

I walked faster. So did they.

My house was ten minutes away. I could make it if I ran, but running would confirm I knew they were there. My hand fumbled for my phone.

"Signorina Roglas."

I spun around. Two men in dark suits blocked the narrow street behind me. Not Rafael's men. Different energy. Cruder.

"Our employer would like a word," the first one said, moving closer.

"I'm not interested." I backed away, scanning for escape routes. The canal was to my left, buildings pressed close on the right. Behind me, the street opened to a small square.

I ran.

Heavy footsteps pounded after me. I kicked off my heels, bare feet slapping against cobblestones. Almost to the square. If I could reach the main stree.

Hands grabbed me from behind, yanking me into an alley. I screamed, driving my elbow back hard. It connected with something soft. The man grunted, grip loosening.

I twisted free and ran straight into a solid chest.

Arms caught me, steadying me. I looked up into dark, familiar eyes.

Rafael.

"I warned you," he said quietly. "This crowd isn't civilized."

Behind me, the two men had stopped, hands going to their waists. Rafael's grip on my arms tightened, pulling me slightly behind him.

"Gentlemen." His voice carried a lazy menace. "The lady isn't interested in your employer's conversation."

"This doesn't concern you, Montez."

"It does now." Rafael's men materialized from the shadows, flanking us. Three against two. The odds shifted visibly.

The men exchanged glances, then backed away. "We'll tell our employer you interfered."

"Please do," Rafael said.

They disappeared into the night.

I sagged against the wall, adrenaline crashing. My hands shook. Rafael stood watching me, expression unreadable.

"Thank you," I managed.

"Don't thank me yet." He stepped closer, and suddenly the danger I'd escaped felt less threatening than the man in front of me. "Who were they working for?"

"I don't know."

"You're lying."

"I'm not...I genuinely don't know. I don't know why anyone would..." I pressed my hands to my face, trying to think. "This doesn't make sense."

Rafael studied me for a long moment. Then he pulled out his phone, typed something, and pocketed it again.

"You're in danger," he said. "Those men will try again. So will others."

"How do you know?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he asked, "Where's your family?"

"Home. They don't..." I stopped. They don't care. Saying it out loud made it more pathetic. "They don't know I left."

Something flickered across Rafael's face. "Then they won't know you're gone."

Cold realization washed over me. "What?"

"You're coming with me."

"Like hell I am." I pushed off the wall, ready to run again.

Rafael caught my wrist, his grip gentle but immovable. "Listen carefully, Cassandra. In the next hour, at least two more groups will try to take you. I don't know why yet, but I intend to find out. You can come with me now, or I can leave you here to discover the answer on your own."

"You're insane."

"Probably." His thumb pressed against my racing pulse. "But I'm also the only reason you're still breathing. So choose quickly."

A car pulled up to the mouth of the alley, black and sleek. Rafael's men moved toward it, clearly expecting us to follow.

Every instinct told me to run. This man was dangerous. This situation was wrong.

But those other men had been hunting me. And Rafael knew something I didn't.

"If you hurt me..." I started.

"I won't." He released my wrist, stepping back to give me space. "You have my word."

"The word of a mafia boss?"

His mouth curved, not quite a smile. "It's worth more than you think."

The car waited. Rafael waited. The night pressed around us, full of unseen threats.

I thought of my empty house, my family who'd barely notice I was gone. I thought of the fear in those men's eyes when Rafael appeared. I thought of how he'd known my name, how he'd warned me, how he'd been exactly where I needed him.

This was either the stupidest decision of my life or the only one that would keep me alive.

"One question," I said.

Rafael inclined his head.

"How did you know I'd be in that alley?"

His eyes glinted in the dim light. "I didn't. I've been following you since you left the gala."

Somehow, that honesty was more terrifying than a lie.

I walked toward the car. Rafael followed, opening the door for me with mocking courtesy. I slid inside, and he settled beside me, close enough that I could feel the heat of him.

The door closed. The car pulled away from the curb.

And I realized I'd just put myself in the hands of Venice's most dangerous man.

---

**★ Rafael's POV ★**

The girl was smarter than he'd anticipated.

Rafael watched her from the corner of his eye as Marco drove through Venice's winding streets. Cassandra sat rigid in her seat, bare feet tucked under her, arms wrapped around herself. She didn't cry or beg. She watched the city pass outside the window, calculating.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Somewhere safe."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you're getting tonight."

She turned to face him, chin lifted in defiance despite the fear he could smell on her. "You said people are hunting me. Why?"

"I don't know yet."

"But you know something."

Perceptive. That would be useful or problematic, depending on how the next few hours went.

"I know you're valuable," Rafael said carefully. "To multiple interested parties. What I don't know is why."

"And you think kidnapping me will help you figure it out?"

"I didn't kidnap you. You got in the car voluntarily."

"After you cornered me in an alley and told me I'd die if I didn't."

"Technically accurate." He allowed himself a small smile at her glare. "Would you have preferred I left you for the Calabrians? They're much less patient than I am."

She fell silent, processing. Smart girl. She was running through options, realizing she had none.

"Your uncle," Rafael said. "Javin Roglas. What does he do?"

"He's a businessman."

"What kind?"

"Import, export. I don't ask questions."

"Why not?"

Her jaw tightened. "Because asking questions in my family gets you locked in your room for being difficult."

Interesting. Rafael filed that away. "And your parents?"

"Dead. Since I was eight."

"I'm sorry."

She laughed, sharp and bitter. "No, you're not. You're a mafia boss interrogating your hostage. Don't pretend to be human."

The insult should have annoyed him. Instead, Rafael found himself intrigued. She had claws hidden under that fragile exterior.

"You're right," he said. "I'm not sorry. I'm curious. Dead parents, hostile family, multiple assassination attempts. You're either incredibly unlucky or sitting on information you don't know you have."

"Maybe I'm just a Roglas. That seems to be enough."

"No." Rafael shifted to face her fully. "This isn't about your family name. I've dealt with the Roglases before. They're small-time, barely worth my attention. But tonight, I watched the Bratva, the Calabrians, and a private military contractor all try to grab you. That level of interest doesn't come from being a minor mafia princess."

Cassandra's face had gone pale. "I don't understand."

"Neither do I. Yet."

The car pulled into an underground garage. Rafael's safe house, a renovated warehouse he used for situations exactly like this. Secure, private, impossible to find unless you knew where to look.

Marco opened the door. Rafael stepped out first, then offered his hand to Cassandra. She ignored it, climbing out on her own. Stubborn.

"This way," he said, leading her to the elevator.

She followed but kept distance between them, watching everything. The weapons locker by the entrance. The security cameras. The reinforced doors. Taking inventory.

"Planning your escape already?" Rafael asked as the elevator rose.

"Would you expect anything less?"

"No." He almost smiled again. "But I should warn you, this building has twelve armed guards, motion sensors on every floor, and the only exit requires a keycard you don't have. You're welcome to try, but it would be a waste of energy."

"You really know how to make a girl feel welcome."

The elevator opened onto the second floor. Rafael guided her to a bedroom at the end of the hall. Clean, comfortable, with a private bathroom. Also locked from the outside and equipped with cameras he wouldn't mention unless necessary.

"You'll stay here tonight," he said. "There are clothes in the closet, toiletries in the bathroom. Someone will bring you food."

Cassandra stood in the doorway, not entering. "And then what?"

"Then I figure out why you're worth killing for."

"And after that?"

Rafael met her eyes. "That depends on what I find."

She held his gaze, searching for something. Whatever she saw made her shoulders drop slightly. "You're going to trade me, aren't you? To whoever offers the best deal."

He should have lied. Should have reassured her. But lying to this girl felt wrong for reasons he didn't want to examine.

"Possibly," he said.

"At least you're honest."

"I'm a lot of things, Cassandra. But I don't lie."

She finally stepped into the room, moving past him to the window. Barred, he noted her noticing. When she turned back, something had shifted in her expression. Less fear, more resignation.

"My family won't pay ransom," she said quietly. "Whatever you think I'm worth, they won't pay it."

"I wasn't planning to ask them."

"Then who?"

Rafael leaned against the doorframe. "That's what I'm going to find out."

He should leave. Start making calls, reaching out to contacts, piecing together why everyone suddenly wanted this girl. But he found himself studying her instead. The way she held herself together despite being terrified. The intelligence in her eyes. The defiance.

His phone buzzed. Message from Luca: *Got something. Call me.*

"Get some rest," Rafael said. "We'll talk more in the morning."

"Will you tell me the truth then?"

"I'll tell you what I know."

"That's not the same thing."

"No," he agreed. "It's not."

He stepped into the hall and closed the door, hearing the lock engage automatically. Through the small window, he watched Cassandra sink onto the bed, finally allowing herself to shake.

Something in his chest tightened uncomfortably.

Rafael walked to his office and pulled out his phone, dialing Luca.

"Tell me," he said when his second answered.

"Cassandra Roglas isn't just a Roglas. Her mother was Maria Santoro."

Rafael went still. "Santoro? As in..."

"The Santoro family. Yeah. They went dark eight years ago after some internal war. Everyone thought they were wiped out."

"Maria Roglas was Maria Santoro." Rafael's mind raced. "That means Cassandra is...."

"Heir to the Santoro fortune. And whatever they were protecting."

Rafael looked toward the bedroom where Cassandra was locked. Suddenly, the pieces were falling into place. The assassination attempts. The interested parties. The desperation.

This girl wasn't just valuable.

She was the key to one of the biggest mafia fortunes in Europe.

And she had no idea.

His phone buzzed again. Message from Sophia: *Did you get her? The Morettis are getting impatient.*

Rafael stared at the message, then at the closed bedroom door.

The smart play was to trade her. Get his information about his family's treasure and walk away.

But the Santoro fortune changed everything.

If he played this right, Cassandra Roglas could give him something far more valuable than his parents' stolen heirloom.

She could give him power.

Rafael typed a response to Sophia: *I have her. We need to renegotiate.*

He hit send and smiled.

This was about to get very interesting.