005

DON VINCENZO MARAZONA

God.

I did not know how long I had been unconscious on the floor, but sunlight crashing violently through the bedroom windows hit directly against my face, dragging a low irritated hiss from my throat.

My neck ached.

My shoulder was numb.

Slowly, I pushed myself upright from the floor beside the bed, rubbing one hand down my jaw with visible annoyance.

The bed had felt suffocating last night.

Too soft.

Too quiet.

Too much time to think.

So at some point, I ended up on the ground instead.

Pathetic.

I sat there for another moment, glaring at absolutely nothing while sunlight spilled across the black marble floors of my room.

The shattered remains of last night’s temper still decorated the suite.

Broken crystal near the fireplace.

The destroyed lighter.

Tobacco scattered across the floor.

A servant would clean it eventually.

Not my problem.

I finally stood.

Every muscle in my body protested immediately.

Wonderful.

Exactly the kind of morning a dying man needed.

I walked into the bathroom, brushed my teeth aggressively enough to almost draw blood, shaved, showered again, and dressed in black slacks and a charcoal button-down with the sleeves rolled carelessly toward my elbows.

Then came the medication.

The best part of every morning.

I stared at the pills sitting beside the sink.

Hated them.

Swallowed them anyway.

The bitterness lingered.

So did the rage.

By the time I stepped out of my room, my patience was already nonexistent.

The estate remained unnervingly quiet as I descended the staircase toward the dining hall.

Marazona servants moved quickly whenever I appeared, lowering their heads immediately.

Fear.

Efficient.

Predictable.

Unlike yesterday.

A maid hurried toward me carrying warm honey water on a silver tray.

I took the glass from her without slowing my pace.

The warm liquid soothed my throat slightly.

At least until I entered the sitting hall connected to the dining area.

Then my mood worsened instantly.

Mother sat elegantly across one of the velvet couches dressed in deep black silk, posture perfect as always.

And opposite her—

sat the parasite from the De Luca family.

Serafina.

She looked smaller than I remembered.

Which was impressive considering she already looked half dead at the cathedral.

A pale cream gown hung loosely around her thin frame while both hands rested nervously in her lap, fingers twisting together so tightly her knuckles had turned white.

Her posture stiffened the second she noticed me.

Like prey sensing a predator.

Mother glanced up first.

“Oh,” she said calmly. “You’re awake, Cenzo.”

I ignored the nickname completely.

My gaze slid toward the girl instead.

Dark circles lingered beneath her eyes despite obvious attempts to cover them.

Her hair fell loosely over one shoulder.

And Christ—

she still looked terrified.

Of course she did.

The moment our eyes met, she immediately lowered hers toward the floor.

Not respectful.

Fearful.

Mother noticed too.

“Honestly,” Donna Lucrezia murmured while sipping her coffee, “watching her shake this much is beginning to irritate me.”

Serafina’s fingers tightened harder.

“S-sorry.”

Mother’s eyes sharpened instantly.

“I do not remember asking you to speak, parasite.”

Silence.

The girl immediately looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her alive.

I said nothing.

Did nothing.

Simply walked past them toward the dining table.

A servant immediately pulled out my chair.

Another placed breakfast before me.

Eggs.

Toast.

Espresso.

Fruit I would not touch.

Routine.

Predictable.

Unlike the disaster currently sitting in my house.

I picked up the espresso calmly.

Behind me, Mother continued speaking.

“She nearly fainted again this morning after one of the maids informed her she would be expected at dinner tomorrow night.”

“I-I did not faint,” Serafina whispered weakly.

“You looked close enough.”

Silence again.

I took a slow sip of coffee.

Serafina was quiet for several seconds before finally gathering enough courage to speak again.

“Madame Donna…”

Mother looked visibly displeased already.

“Yes?”

“I…” The girl swallowed nervously. “I was wondering if maybe I could contact my father—”

Mother laughed softly.

Coldly.

“No.”

Serafina visibly shrank smaller.

“I just wanted to know if he’s alright—”

“Your father,” Mother interrupted smoothly, “is currently learning why deceiving the Marazonas was a catastrophic mistake.”

The girl’s face lost color.

I cut into my food without looking up.

Mother continued mercilessly:

“The De Luca company has already collapsed.”

Serafina’s breathing visibly quickened.

“Their assets were seized before sunrise.”

Her lips parted.

“They…” Her voice trembled badly. “They lost everything?”

Mother smiled faintly over the rim of her cup.

“Your husband was feeling generous. I would have preferred corpses.”

That finally made me speak.

“Mother.”

One word.

Sharp.

Warning.

She looked at me.

“What?” she asked calmly. “It’s true.”

I leaned back slightly in my chair, irritation simmering beneath my skin all over again.

“Eat your breakfast,” I muttered coldly toward Serafina without looking directly at her.

Silence.

Then quietly:

“I’m not hungry.”

That annoyed me immediately.

“Did I ask?”

She flinched.

Actually flinched.

Jesus Christ.

Mother noticed too and looked deeply unimpressed.

“She does that constantly,” she said dryly. “The shaking. The whispering. The apologizing. Are you certain this one isn’t defective?”

Serafina lowered her head so quickly strands of hair slipped over her face.

“I-I’m sorry…”

“There she goes again.”

I stabbed my fork down harder than necessary.

The sound echoed sharply across the room.

Instant silence followed.

I finally lifted my eyes toward the girl properly.

“Stop apologizing every five seconds,” I snapped.

Her eyes widened immediately.

“O-okay.”

A pause.

Then quietly:

“Sorry.”

Mother laughed softly into her coffee.

I shut my eyes briefly.

Unbelievable.

Absolutely fucking unbelievable.

The girl slowly rose from the sitting area after that, moving so cautiously it looked like she was afraid the floor itself might punish her for stepping wrong.

Her head remained lowered the entire walk toward the dining table.

One of the maids immediately pulled out a chair for her beside the far end of the table.

Far from me.

Good.

Serafina sat carefully, almost hesitantly, smoothing trembling fingers over the cream fabric of her dress before folding both hands in her lap.

A maid placed a plate in front of her.

Seafood risotto.

Another servant poured tea.

The girl looked startled for a second.

Then softly—

“Thank you.”

Mother chuckled under her breath.

There it was again.

That pathetic gratitude over basic human decency.

I ignored all of it and continued eating while servants moved silently around the room.

The only sounds were silverware against porcelain and rain hitting the distant windows.

Then I noticed movement from the corner of my eye.

Serafina had stopped.

Her fork hovered uncertainly above the plate.

She was staring at the shrimp mixed into the risotto.

Frozen.

Mother noticed too.

“Well?” she asked coolly. “Eat.”

The girl visibly startled.

“O-oh. Yes.”

She picked up the fork again.

Slowly.

Too slowly.

Something about it irritated me instantly.

“Do the De Lucas not feed their daughters?” I muttered flatly.

Her fingers tightened around the utensil.

“I…” She swallowed nervously. “I’m not very hungry.”

Mother gave her a sharp look.

“You should be grateful food is being served to you at all.”

That immediately made Serafina lower her head again.

“Yes, Madame Donna.”

Then she started eating.

Small bites.

Careful.

Like she was forcing herself through every swallow.

I went back to my espresso.

A few minutes passed in silence before I noticed the coughing.

Soft at first.

Barely noticeable.

Serafina quickly covered her mouth, shoulders tensing.

Mother looked annoyed already.

“Honestly,” she sighed. “Can this girl survive one meal without trembling or choking?”

“I-I’m fine,” Serafina whispered quickly.

Then she took another bite.

Stupid.

A few more seconds passed.

Then the coughing worsened.

This time harder.

Rougher.

The fork slipped from her fingers and clattered against the plate.

I finally looked at her properly.

Her face had gone pale.

No.

Paler.

Her breathing sounded uneven now.

One hand moved toward her throat instinctively.

Mother narrowed her eyes.

“What now?”

Serafina shook her head quickly despite the obvious panic rising in her expression.

“I…” She swallowed hard. “I’m okay…”

She was clearly not okay.

A maid suddenly gasped softly.

“Madame…”

Mother looked irritated.

“What?”

“I think…” the maid hesitated nervously. “I think the young Madame may be allergic to shellfish.”

Silence.

I looked down at the plate immediately.

Shrimp.

Mother’s expression darkened.

Serafina’s lips had started swelling slightly.

And yet the idiot was still trying not to make noise.

Her breathing turned shallow.

Uneven.

One trembling hand clutched the edge of the table while the other pressed weakly against her throat.

I dropped my fork sharply onto the table.

The sound echoed through the room.

“Then why the fuck was it served to her?” I snapped.

Every servant in the room stiffened instantly.

The maid looked horrified.

“She… she didn’t say anything, Don Vincenzo.”

I looked toward Serafina.

“Are you stupid?”

Her watery eyes lifted toward me immediately.

Confused.

Frightened.

Tearing already from the allergic reaction.

“I…” Her voice came out strained now. “I didn’t want to cause trouble.”

Something in the room went quiet after that.

Even Mother stopped speaking.

Because that answer was not normal.

Not even remotely.

I stared at her for a long second.

The swollen lips.

The struggling breaths.

The obvious fear.

And somehow the thing irritating me most was the fact she genuinely believed nearly suffocating at the table was preferable to inconveniencing someone.

Jesus Christ.

“Adriano,” I barked.

My assistant appeared almost instantly from the doorway.

“Take her to the doctor.”

Serafina panicked immediately.

“No—I’m okay, really—”

“You can barely breathe.”

“I don’t want to bother anyone—”

“You’re already bothering me.”

She immediately went silent.

Good.

Adriano approached calmly.

“Madame.”

Serafina hesitated before slowly trying to stand.

The moment she did, dizziness hit her instantly.

Her knees buckled slightly.

Adriano caught her arm before she hit the floor.

She looked horrified by the contact alone.

Mother watched the entire thing with cold unreadable eyes before finally speaking.

“She behaves like a beaten animal.”

I leaned back slowly in my chair, jaw tightening.

Yeah.

I noticed.