LOGINShare
Chapter 5: Smile Like a Knife
Last Updated:
2025-07-07 20:37:28The velvet cushion still held the echo of her clenched hands.
Siena stood, turned — and without a word, reached for Adriano’s hand. Her fingers slid into his, warm and steady, then deliberately guided it to rest on her lower back. He didn’t speak. Didn’t question. But his fingers shifted, just enough to say: I’m here. She let herself breathe once — only once — before nodding. “Let’s go.” Together, they moved down the hallway. As they reached the arched entrance, Siena straightened her shoulders and walked in without hesitation. The conversation inside faltered for a beat. Then resumed. Marco was still there. Of course he was. Glass in hand, stories spilling from his mouth. He didn’t notice her at first. Then he did. And like that, she owned the room. Adriano pulled out her chair. She sat, fluid, controlled. Crossed one leg over the other and reached for her wine. “Zurich still treating you well?” she asked, her tone light, almost careless. Marco blinked. “You —” She didn’t wait. “You disappeared, Marco. Some people would call that cowardice. I call it strategy. The kind used by traitors.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I thought we left the past behind.” Siena’s laugh was soft, dangerous. “Oh, darling. I never leave anything behind. Especially not debts.” A quiet spread at their end of the table. Adriano, beside her, said nothing — just rested his arm along the back of her chair, casual, unshakable. She swirled the wine in her glass. “To debts, then.” She drank. And in her chest, the fire was calm. Cold. Ready. Because this time, she was the storm. --- Marco’s jaw tightened. “Still theatrical, I see,” he said. “Always had a flair for making everything about you, Siena. Drama queen from day one.” She raised an eyebrow, sipping her wine. “And yet, you followed me like a puppy. Strange how that works.” His voice darkened. “You were reckless. Obsessed with your father’s empire, like it was some sacred mission. You dragged me into your delusions.” Before Siena could answer, the chair beside her shifted. Adriano stood. Slowly. Deliberately. The table went quiet again. His voice, when it came, was low and cutting. “You dragged her into it, Marco? That’s bold. Considering you were the one who handed her over like a coward.” Marco’s smirk faltered. “Excuse me?” Adriano stepped closer. “No need to pretend. I’ve read the files. I’ve seen the signatures. You sold her out — for a clean record and a one-way ticket to Zurich.” Marco’s eyes darted to Siena. “You told him?” “She didn’t have to,” Adriano said. “I made it my business to find out who broke her. And now I get to look him in the eyes.” The air tightened. Marco stood abruptly, hand gripping the back of his chair. “You think you know everything? You don’t know what it was like—” “I don’t need to know what it was like,” Adriano snapped. “I know what you did. And I know what she survived. So you don’t get to talk to her like that. Not here. Not ever.” Silence. Marco swallowed, looking from Adriano to Siena. She hadn’t moved — just watched, eyes steady, heart drumming slow and sure behind her ribs. She tilted her head. “You were saying something, Marco?” He hesitated. Then sat down. Fast. Adriano remained standing a moment longer, then returned to his seat beside her, calm slipping back into place — but his eyes never left Marco’s face. Siena leaned close, her voice just for Adriano. “You didn’t have to.” He didn’t smile. Just took her hand under the table, firm and grounding. “I wanted to.” And for the first time in six years, Siena didn’t feel alone at the table. --- A sharp clatter of heels on marble broke the quiet. The doors to the dining hall flew open. Elena stood at the threshold, breathless, one hand gripping the frame. “Adriano,” she said, her voice tight. “It’s Lucia. She’s gone.” Siena’s blood froze. The wine glass slipped from her fingers and shattered on the floor. “Gone?” she whispered, already rising. “What do you mean gone?” “She’s not in her room. The window’s open. The guards didn’t see anyone leave.” Adriano was on his feet in an instant. “No one leaves the estate,” he said coldly. “Lock the gates. Double the perimeter watch. Now.” Elena nodded and disappeared before the echo of his words had faded. Siena clutched his sleeve, her voice trembling. “She wouldn’t go off on her own. She’s too small. Someone—someone took her.” “I know,” he said. “I know.” Adriano turned to the rest of the room — the long table, the guests frozen mid-bite, eyes wide. “No one leaves,” he repeated, voice cutting like a blade. “Until we find my daughter.” ---
Latest chapter
Mafia's Obsession: Hidden Flame Chapter 45: White Noise
They transferred Lucia upstairs when the sun was still a rumor at the edge of the city. The elevator doors opened onto a quieter floor, the kind built for waiting rather than crisis — low voices, long corridors, daylight that would arrive slowly and take the edge off metal and glass. Observation Room 7 was small, rectangular, and cleared of everything that could make a mother feel in the way. A narrow bed. A recliner that pretended to be comfortable. A monitor mounted high, its screen already alive with thin lines and numbers. A rolling pole with a saline bag hung but capped — ready if needed, unnecessary if luck held. Lucia lay on her back, blanket tucked under her arms, a tiny adhesive band across the crook of her elbow where the cannula sat like a promise not yet called in. The pulse-ox clip glowed red against her finger, a little jewel that pulsed with each artifact of the heart’s work. The blow-by nozzle had been removed; the mask coiled at the base of the pole like a snake out
Mafia's Obsession: Hidden Flame Chapter 44: The Drop
The hour before dawn makes every room honest. Color drains to ash; sound thins to a thread. The safe apartment breathed in long, even measures — vents whispering, pipes settling, the city outside reduced to a pulse behind glass.Siena had stopped pretending not to sleep. Somewhere between three and four she’d let her body fold into the chair by Lucia’s bed, a throw blanket slid haphazardly over her knees, her head tilted against the high back. She kept one hand free, palm resting on the mattress, two fingers lightly touching the edge of Lucia’s blanket where the rise and fall would tell her more than any clock. The bandage over her palm tugged when she flexed; it itched the way healing does when it decides to, not when you ask.Lucia lay on her side facing her, hair looped into soft curls against the pillow, breath a quiet tide. A line of stuffed animals kept sentinel at the foot of the bed — fox, rabbit, a soft bear whose ear had been loved thin. The nightlight in the corner had surr
Mafia's Obsession: Hidden Flame Chapter 43: Riccardo’s Voice
Night settled over the safe apartment like a heavy curtain, muting the city to a distant murmur. The lamps were turned low — one pool of amber on the sideboard, another a thin halo over the corner of the living room where Siena sat with her legs tucked under her, a blanket thrown across her knees as if warmth could argue with dread.The place was engineered for quiet. The HVAC hummed at a regulated whisper. In the corridor outside, guards rotated in soft-soled shoes that never quite made a sound. Somewhere below, the elevator locks cycled, checking and rechecking their own certainty. The windows, double-laminated and polarized, showed nothing of Milan except a suggestion of light, like the city had been reduced to a pulse.On the coffee table lay the black card with the golden serpent and, beside it, the photograph from the morning’s package. Siena had left them there deliberately, a boundary line in plain view. She refused to keep them out of sight. She also refused to touch them aga
Mafia's Obsession: Hidden Flame Chapter 42: The Woman with No Name
The apartment didn’t feel safe anymore. It felt measured.Siena sat on the edge of the low sofa in the living room, elbows on her knees, the photograph from the black package balanced between her fingers like a blade. Lucia’s small face stared back up at her from the glossy paper — lashes lowered, mouth parted in concentration over a children’s book. The closer she looked, the more the image refused to stay still; it kept pulling her inward to the single fact she could not make smaller: someone had been that close.The room breathed around her in slow, careful sounds — the distant hum of the building’s ventilation, the soft tick of the wall clock, footsteps muted in the corridor where the guards rotated posts every fifteen minutes. From down the hall came the low murmur of two voices — Marco briefing another man; the rustle of a tablet case being unzipped; the scrape of a chair as someone sat. Efficient noise. Loyal noise. None of it changed the picture in her hands.Adriano stood at
Mafia's Obsession: Hidden Flame Chapter 41: Message Delivered
Morning in Milan arrived like a careful intruder — slipping through the blinds in narrow shafts of pale gold, brushing across the dark oak floors of Adriano’s safe apartment without disturbing the silence. The air inside was still, untouched, holding onto the faint scent of last night’s rain.Beyond the reinforced windows, the city was waking up. A tram’s low rumble passed somewhere in the distance. Car horns flared and died away. Somewhere down on the street, the metallic clink of a shopkeeper rolling open his shutters carried faintly upward.Inside, the building was locked down as always — guards posted in the corridor outside, two more at the main entrance, cameras running in a continuous loop. This was Adriano’s stronghold in Milan, a place built for shadows and safety.From the bedroom, Siena stirred. Her eyes opened to the muted light pressing through the curtains, the sound of Lucia’s laughter filtering in from the next room — a soft, high melody, the kind only a child could ma
Mafia's Obsession: Hidden Flame Chapter 40: Rooftop Confessions
The rooftop was quiet.Too quiet for a city that never slept.Milan, in all its splendor, stretched beneath them — a glimmering mosaic of power and decay. The rooftop of the Castello Rosso Hotel offered a view few ever earned: a city split between gods in suits and ghosts in leather jackets.Siena stood near the edge, the wind brushing against her like a whispered warning. Her hair fluttered behind her, raven-black and wild against the silver sky. Her heels clicked once against the stone, then stilled. She didn’t move again.Adriano stood a few feet behind her, suit jacket undone, shirt unbuttoned at the throat. He wasn't looking at the skyline. He was watching her. Always her.Below, sirens wailed in muffled cycles — in and out like tides. Red and blue lights ricocheted across car windows, alleyways, statues older than the republic. Shadows moved fast between buildings, motorcycles weaving through the dark like sharks sensing blood. The city was breathing differently tonight.And the
You may also like
Betrothed To The Mafia Lord
Josephine Ivy 223.6K viewsI Saved the Mafia Boss—Now I'm His Obsession.
Janedoewritings95.0K viewsYou Can Run But...
AmonAvHs230.6K viewsWANTED BY THE MAFIA PRINCE
A_rebelliousdreamer82.3K viewsThe Mafia's Princess Returns
Author_Ella3.8K viewsMafia's Forbidden Desires
Sunshine527 viewsBeneath The Blood Moon
Sasha58 viewsSinful obsession
Preshy261 views
