Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**Alessia**

“Put the gun down, Petro.”

“He killed Vito.” Petro’s voice cracked, raw and unsteady, rage bleeding through every word. His grip tightened, the barrel pressing harder against my temple. “My cousin died like a dog and you expect me to sit here and eat?”

Enzo’s gaze darkened. His hand moved toward his gun when he saw Petro wasn’t ready to drop the gun, ready to end this himself. 

“Don’t.” Papà snapped at him.

“Put. It. Down.” Leonardo’s voice resounded again, quiet and absolute.

Petro hesitated.

That hesitation cost him everything.

The gunshot deafened the room.

One moment there was cold metal pressed to my skull. The next…nothing. Just the echo of it and the smell of gunpowder.

Petro’s body hit the floor.

Warm liquid dotted my face and dress.

I couldn’t breathe.

Guards shifted uncertainly, hands still on weapons. The air was thick enough to choke on. One wrong move and this careful negotiation would explode into full war right here at this table.

Salvatore was watching. His expression, unreadable. Matteo’s jaw was clenched. 

Papà’s eyes found mine for a second. Long enough to see I was alive. That was the confirmation he needed.

“Clean that up,” he said to the nearest soldier, gesturing to Petro’s body like it was spilled wine. “Everyone sit. This lunch will conclude.”

His voice was absolute.

Slowly, people sat. Guards lowered weapons. The danger didn’t disappear…it transformed into something colder. Something that lurked underneath civility like a predator under water.

Papà looked at me. “Alessia. Sit and eat.”

Not a request, a command. A demand that I prove I wasn’t broken.

My legs shook as I sat back down.

The osso buco on my plate had gone cold, but I forced down a bite anyway. It tasted like sand. Like ashes.

Around me, staff moved with the efficiency of people who’d cleaned blood off white tablecloths before. The body was removed in seconds. Fresh plates appeared. Wine was refilled. Like it never happened.

I picked up my fork with a hand that wouldn’t stop shaking.

Each bite was harder than the last. Everyone was watching. Waiting to see who would break.

So I ate.

And felt his eyes on me.

Leonardo was watching me like I was the only thing in the room that mattered. Not the body being removed. Not the blood being wiped away. Just me. Just the tremor in my hands. The way I fought to keep my spine straight.

I felt the weight of his attention like something pressing against my skin. Like something claiming territory without saying a word.

Conversation slowly resumed, stilted and forced. Mira tried a joke that nobody laughed at. Sofia was unmoved, indifferent like she existed in a different world entirely. Enzo continued his lunch, satisfied the threat was already removed.

But everyone was different around Leonardo now. I could feel it in how they moved. In how they didn’t make direct eye contact. In how their bodies shifted away from him instinctively.

He’d killed one of his own.

I don’t remember how the lunch ended.

One moment I was still at the table, forcing food down. The next, I was dismissed.

I walked upstairs slowly.

Breaking in front of them wasn’t an option.

But the moment my door shut behind me…

I collapsed.

********

The shower was scalding hot.

I stood under it, watching the water turn pink. Blood. Whether Petro’s or mine, I wasn’t sure.

Let it wash away the fear. Let it burn away the memory of being eighteen in a dark room, thinking one click was all it would take.

One click.

The words echoed like they’d never left. Like they’d been living in my bones, waiting for another gun. Another threat. Another moment where I understood how fragile my life actually was.

I stayed until the water ran cold.

My mind spiraled through memories I’d buried. Through trauma I’d thought I’d overcome. But it was all still there. Just below the surface.

Why had he protected me?

Leonardo Mancini had killed his own soldier without hesitation. Without rage. Without anything except cold efficiency. He’d seen the gun at my head and responded like it was reflex. Like I mattered more than loyalty to his own men.

There was no reason. And yet there was something in his eyes when he looked at me. Something that felt like recognition. Something that made him move across a room in seconds. Something that made him pull a trigger without blinking.

My body had responded to that in ways that terrified me.

Because underneath the fear was something else. Something that felt like safety. Something about it unsettled me more than it should have.

A sharp gunshot echoed from upstairs, papà’s office this time.

My heart lurched.

 Enzo.

I moved before I could think.

Out of the shower. Towel barely wrapped. I grabbed the first clothes I could find, pulling them on with wet skin, not caring how they clung.

Another shooting, another threat.

I rushed up the stairs, Bare feet slipping slightly against marble. My pulse hammered in my ears.

I had to check on my cousin. Had to make sure—

I rounded the corner too fast and slammed into something solid.

The impact knocked the air from my lungs. My footing slipped and I hit the floor hard.

Pain shot up my spine.

For a second, I couldn’t move.

Then I looked up. 

Black. That was the first thing I saw.

Black fabric. Clean lines.

Then higher…dark hair, sharp jaw, those dark, unreadable eyes staring down at me.

Leonardo.

He stood over me like nothing had happened. Like the chaos upstairs hadn’t touched him. His gaze didn’t waver. Like I was something he hadn’t decided what to do with yet.

Water dripped from my hair onto the marble. My shirt clung to my skin. I was suddenly aware of everything, how easily this moment could tilt in a direction I couldn’t control.

“You run toward gunfire often?” His voice was low and controlled. “Half-soaked and reckless?”

 Heat rushed my face. He didn’t offer a hand. Didn’t step back.

He just stood there, looking down at me like nothing about this situation required his effort.

Right.

I pushed myself up, ignoring the ache in my back.

“At least I’m not standing in hallways making judgments about people’s appearances,” I said, my voice sharp despite his presence drowning out everything else. “That seems more your thing.”

Something flickered across his face. More dangerous. Like I’d just confirmed something he already suspected.

“Move,” I added, lifting my chin. “You’re in my way.”

For a second, I thought he wouldn’t.

Then he stepped aside.

“You should be more careful, Alessia,” he said, quieter now. “Running toward danger when you don’t even know what you’re walking into.” 

The words settled under my skin, I didn’t answer. He walked past me like it meant nothing, like I meant nothing.

“Did you kill him?” I called after him, my voice cracking. 

“Did you kill my cousin?”

He paused but didn’t turn around. Just stood there for a moment, his silhouette framed against the darkness.

“I should have,” he said quietly.

And somehow…

I believed him.