**Chapter Fourteen**

**Sam's POV**

The room was still dark when I woke up. I got ready slowly, choosing a simple dress, brushing my hair out with more patience than I actually felt. I needed to look like I belonged here. I needed to look normal, even if nothing about the last few weeks had felt remotely normal.

*My darling husband Diego*

*Do I know you?*

The memories from last night came flooding back as I moved down the hall, the way they always did the moment my mind had a spare second to fill. Morning light poured into the mansion, soft and pale, and two maids moved quietly through the breakfast room ahead of me.

"Good morning, ma'am."

One set my plate down gently in front of me while the other adjusted the silverware. The long expanse of polished wood stretched out empty on either side of me, a table built for crowds that never seemed to actually arrive. I sat alone at one end. A faint ring of condensation marked the surface near my elbow, evidence that someone had been sitting there not long before I came down. The second maid wiped it away with a soft cloth before I could even ask who.

Eggs, toast, black coffee, the same breakfast I'd been eating every morning for days now, arranged the same way each time, like the kitchen had decided this was simply what I ate now and never bothered asking if I wanted something different. I took a slow sip of the coffee, using the heat of it to steady my hands more than the taste.

*I won't be here tonight*

I wondered if Adrian had made it back yet from whatever business had pulled him out the night before. His voice had carried a weight I hadn't heard from him before, low and clipped as he instructed Theo to tighten the estate's security on his way out the door. Whatever he was walking into, it was dark, and serious enough that some part of me — the part that had learned, fast, to read the temperature of this house — already suspected it had something to do with me.

Then I heard it.

A gunshot.

It cracked through the quiet morning, sharp and sudden, unmistakably coming from somewhere behind the estate.

I froze, the cup halfway to my mouth.

Another shot followed.

Then several more in quick succession, the sound rolling through the house and settling into the walls like it belonged there.

The maid kept wiping the table. One of the footmen adjusted a vase in the hallway and continued on his way without so much as a glance toward the windows. None of the staff so much as flinched. They kept working like gunfire at this hour was simply part of the estate's morning schedule. I sat there for a second, my thoughts all messed up. Then I set my spoon down and stood. Instead of retreating upstairs the way any reasonable person probably should have, my feet started moving toward the sound instead. I didn't fully understand the impulse. I only knew I needed to see it for myself.

I walked out through the back door and followed the noise down a garden path that led to a long building I'd never noticed before, tucked behind a hedge line dense enough to hide it from the main house entirely.

The door was open. I stepped inside.

A private shooting range.

It stretched out under the early light, targets set at staggered angles and distances, each one placed with the kind of calculations that told me this wasn't recreation.

Theo stood at the near end, gun pointed towards a target, focused, each shot landing before the echo of the last one had even finished dying out.

I stepped further into the range, and something in the air shifted with my presence. His next shot cracked out but didn't land clean, the bullet tore through the edge of the target instead of the center, thrown off by half an inch that clearly bothered him more than it should have. He reacted instantly, lowering the weapon and pulling his headset off in one smooth motion. Silence rushed back in, heavy and sudden after the gunfire, pressing against my ears in a way that almost hurt.

"Ma’am Samantha. You shouldn't walk into a range without warning."

"Never knew I needed permission."

"You do ma'am."

I straightened, aware of my own breathing going uneven. "Where’s Adrian?"

He didn't answer right away. He finished reloading first, methodical, unbothered by the silence stretching between us.

"Handling business."

I took another step closer. "What is it about? Is he planning something?"

Theo looked at me for a long moment, his eyes hard in a way like he's deciding how much a given piece of information was worth handing over. Underneath it, though, I could see something else too. Loyalty, absolute and unquestioning.

"You should go back inside, ma'am Samantha."

"Mrs. Dela Cruz," the breakfast maid called, hurrying down the garden path toward us. "This came in a few minutes ago."

She held out a card. I took it, my eyes still on the gun in Theo's hand.

*Just the wives of a few important men. I'd love for you to join us*

It was Bianca's invitation.

My grip tighten around the card's edge, I glanced toward the trash bin set against the fence line, already halfway through deciding it belonged there.

"The invitation isn't social," Theo's voice cut in before I'd taken a full step. "The Salvatore Women's Gathering. It's an access."

I pulled my hand back and turned to him.

He exhaled once, adjusting his stance. "It's access to people who talk freely when they think they're safe."

"Ma'am Bianca doesn't host gatherings," he added, firing again, clean this time, dead center. "She hosts information."

Ma'am Bianca? I caught it immediately — the title, the familiarity in it, like he'd used it a hundred times before.

"And I'm supposed to be part of that?" I asked.

"You're already inside it."

"So what do you suggest, underboss?"

"You go." He fired again without looking at me. "But not alone."

I turned to leave, then glanced back at him once before stepping out of the range. He was already lining up his next shot, focus absolute, like our entire conversation had already been filed away and closed.

"You know, you could have said good morning."

He didn't look up. "Good morning, Ma'am Samantha."

Then he fired.

Bullseye.

—————

I closed my bedroom door with a soft click behind me. The mansion had gone quiet again, nothing left but the faint, distant sound of the cleaners working somewhere down the hall.

The card was still in my pocket, its gold edge pressing into my palm through the fabric. If I wanted to be part of the Salvatore circle again, wearing a different name, I couldn't walk in blind. I needed to know what Bianca was really doing with those gatherings, who she invited, and who talked too freely once the wine started flowing and the guards were dismissed. If she wanted me close because of what my presence added to her circle, then I wanted her close enough to poison her thoughts.

A knock came at the door.

"Come in."

Rosa entered, followed by two maids carrying three dresses on hangers. The fabrics were rich, deep burgundy, midnight black, a dark, shimmering emerald green. They hung them carefully along the wardrobe rack.

"We've picked the dresses like you've instructed." Rosa said quietly.

I stared at the dresses, running my fingers along the fabric, feeling the weight of silk and velvet under my hand. They were beautiful. Expensive. I picked up the black one first. Sleek, high-necked, long-sleeved. I held it to the mirror, then set it aside for the burgundy, it looked bolder, deeper at the neckline and fitted close at the waist.

But the green one stopped me. It shimmered faintly under the light, the color deep enough to look almost black until it caught the sun just right. It wouldn't make me blend in. It would make me impossible to ignore. It would make Bianca nervous the second I walked through her door.

"This one," I said, holding up the green. "It will do."

She nodded and the other two were taken away.

I turned from the mirror and crossed to the window. The garden below sat quiet now, the shooting range gone silent, Theo probably already cleaning up his brass somewhere out of sight.

"The boss sent a message," Rosa said, setting jewelry boxes down at the foot of the bed. "He will be back in two days."

I turned to her sharply. "Where did he go?"

She glanced toward the other two maids, and they left the room without a word, the door clicking shut behind them.

"He's on a business journey," she said, lowering her voice."And I'd advise you not to ask him questions when he's back. Please."

"Why?"

"He comes back different, more Mafia. So please."

I watched her face for a moment, the way her eyes wouldn't quite hold steady on mine, and nodded slowly. "Sure.”

She gave a small smile and left the room, and I sat there afterward, turning the word over in my head.

More Mafia?