로그인The long oak table stretched heavy with smoke and silence. Vittorio sat at the head, his presence enough to keep half the room tight-lipped.
Bellini leaned close at his right, the capos spread along both sides. Dante and Luca took their places opposite each other.“The Mancinis spit in our faces,” one capo growled, slamming his palm flat against the wood. “To call the police on us? To invite cameras to our gates? They don’t deserve to breathe.”“They’re nothing butFor the next few days, Rose couldn’t shake the image of Bianca slipping out of Luca’s room. It replayed in her head like a video she couldn’t mute. She told herself it might’ve been innocent; maybe a late-night discussion, a coincidence… but the more she thought about it, the less it made sense.The next morning, everything moved as usual. Servants rushed across the marble halls, Vittorio’s deep voice called for updates, and the smell of brewed espresso spilling from the kitchen. But for Rose, everything had a gloom now. Every glance, every laugh between Bianca and Luca was watched.At breakfast, she sat across the long dining table, pretending to pour cream into her coffee. Bianca was glowing… too much. She kept touching her stomach as if it were already a crown, and Luca’s eyes flickered toward her one too many times. Dante noticed the way she kept touching her stomach, Rose could tell by the way his jaw tightened before he turned aw
By the time Rose reached the courtyard, she no longer wanted the quiet of her room. She wanted air—fresh, untainted, something that didn’t taste of lies and loss. Her feet carried her to the stables.The earthy smell of hay and horseflesh wrapped around her as she stepped inside. Dust motes drifted in the morning light, settling on polished saddles and the rails of the stalls. The horses whickered softly at her arrival, heads lifting, ears flicking in her direction.She ran her hands along the sleek neck of a chestnut mare, feeling the warmth beneath her fingers. The animal nuzzled her palm, and Rose smiled softly. “At least you don’t lie,” She murmured under her breath.She closed her eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of its breathing, the small snorts that punctuated the quiet. It was grounding, reminding her that the world outside these walls still existed… calm, predictable, and real.“Rose.”The voice startled her, and s
Luca stepped closer, the firelight reflecting in his dark eyes. “And our boy,” he said after a pause, voice dropping, almost reverent. “Everything we’ve done, all of it… he will inherit it. Everything Dante could never touch, all of it will be ours.”Bianca smiled, quiet and dangerous. “Our son will carry what we’ve built… everything Dante should have had but never will.”They lingered, talking softly about the future and the steps still ahead. There was laughter, small and quiet, the kind that came from a secret shared between only two people who understood the stakes.Luca leaned down and pressed a light kiss to her temple, fleeting but deliberate. Bianca responded just as lightly, letting her fingers rest on his chest. It wasn’t about passion—it was about affirmation, about trust, about claiming this small, precious moment together in the midst of all the danger around them.Bianca tilted her head against him. “We should celebrate like this more often,” she whispered.“We will,” L
Vittorio sent a messenger to Don Ricci. Within the hour, the old man’s reply came back, carried with gifts and blessings:“My daughter has done well. The Moretti and the Ricci lines are made. May God keep him strong until birth.”It was read aloud at the dinner table that evening, Vittorio’s voice booming over the clatter of silver and the cheer of glasses raised in toasts. The estate swelled with celebration. Champagne flowed, cigars lit, and laughter rose into the high ceilings. Even the soldiers drank freely, their faces relaxed in a way they rarely were. Music played, and the grand chandelier sparkled over the long table where the family sat at the center of the feast.Bianca glowed. She was draped in silk, her dark hair coiled perfectly, she sat beside Dante with a hand resting over her belly as though she already cradled the child. Every glance from the women was heavy with envy or admiration. Every nod from the men was one of respect. Bianca had secured her place, and she kn
The clinic room was too bright. Too sterile for something as ancient and loaded as the continuation of a dynasty. The hum of machines, the faint chemical tang of disinfectant, and Bianca’s shallow breathing filled the silence as she lay back on the cushioned table, gown loose over her shoulders.Vittorio stood beside her, hands clasped behind his back, his dark suit sharp even in the harsh light. His gaze was fixed on the screen as though his will alone could shape the outcome. Dante sat stiff in the chair by the wall, broad shoulders tense, face unreadable. He didn’t want to be here, but obligation had dragged him into this white room and nailed him to the moment.Bianca’s hands twisted over her belly, knuckles pale. She whispered prayers under her breath, her lips moving fast and quiet, as though God could be bribed at the last minute. “Let it be a boy… please, a boy…”Outside, Luca paced the hallway like a restless wolf, pausing every few seconds to glance at the door. He checked
The vans rolled out at dusk, black and unmarked, their engines hushed. The streets were half-empty, only the dim orange lamps keeping vigil. Men inside checked their weapons, the cold metal gleaming under the faint cabin lights. No chatter, only the breathing of wolves about to enter the hunt.Dante rode in the lead van. He wore black gloves, a comm in his ear, and eyes that did not blink. He scanned the street outside, then the watch strapped to his wrist. Everything was on time.“Position one, ready,” came a voice over the comm.“Two, ready.”“Three, ready.”Dante pressed his mic. “Go.”The assault unfolded with the silence of a blade sliding into flesh. Lookouts signaled from rooftops. At the Mancini warehouse, a side door was breached with a whisper of steel.Dante stepped onto the concrete floor of the warehouse, his boots soundless, his eyes scanning. The air smelled of oil, damp wood, and the faint tang of gunmetal. Crates were stacked high, and trucks lined along one wall. I
Rose sat stiffly before the mirror as the servants powdered her cheeks, lined her eyes, and pinned her hair back in a sleek twist that made her look older and untouchable.When they slipped the deep emerald dress over her, catching against her pale skin, she was almost startled at the re
The lock snapped shut behind him. The corridor fell quiet, broken only by the steady tap of his shoes on the marble floor. He did not look back. Rose’s defiance still echoed in his ears. You won’t break me. Foolish girl. Everyone broke. It was only a matter of time. He reached the end of the cor
The jet touched down in Naples just before dawn, the horizon streaked in pale gray. The cabin lights glowed warm, but Rose felt cold as the engines whined down. When the door opened, the air that rushed in was heavier, thick with salt and the faint tang of smoke from the city beyond.Two black cars
The car moved through the dark road, its tinted windows hiding Rose Blake from the city she was leaving behind. She sat still in the back seat, arms wrapped around herself, eyes burning with tears she refused to let fall. Boston’s lights had already faded, but her father’s voice stayed with her.Ro







