The Don's Dangerous Obsession

"Did you check the double-bolt on the kitchen door, Vittoria?" Teresa asked, her voice shaking as she stood by the front window, clutching the edge of the lace curtain.

"I checked it twice, Mom," Vittoria replied, rinsing her empty tea mug in the sink. "It is perfectly secure. Nobody is out there. It is just another quiet Tuesday night."

"You can never be too safe in this city," her mother murmured, her eyes remaining fixed on the dark suburban street. "The world is full of people who take things. They do not care about what is right. They just take and take until there is nothing left of you."

"We have lived in this house for five years, Mom," Vittoria said, walking over to place a warm hand on her mother's trembling shoulder. "We are safe here. We have a normal life here. You do not have to be worried about the shadows."

"You do not know what lives in those shadows, sweetheart," Teresa warned, turning to look at her daughter with eyes that seemed haunted by ghosts. "Your father was a weak man, but the men he associated with were monsters. They do not forget. They never stop searching."

"My father is dead, Mom," Vittoria argued, her chest aching with the familiar, dull pain of a past she could not remember. "He has been gone since I was a toddler. Why are we still running from dead men?"

"Because some ghosts carry loaded guns," Teresa whispered, kissing her cheek before pulling away. "Go to sleep, Vittoria. It is late, and you have classes tomorrow."

"I am just going to read in my room for a bit, Mom," Vittoria said, forcing a small smile. "I will turn off the lights soon. I promise."

"Make sure you lock your bedroom window, sweetie," Teresa added, her voice pleading. "Please, just do that for me."

"I will lock it, Mom," Vittoria lied, feeling the guilt grow in her chest. "Now go get some rest. You look exhausted."

"I will try," Teresa sighed, walking slowly toward her own bedroom. "Goodnight, my beautiful girl."

"Goodnight, Mom," Vittoria said, watching her go.

She retreated to her bedroom. Her phone vibrated instantly in her pocket. It was Hannah, her best friend from university, who had been planning this night for three weeks.

‘Are you ready yet, Vittoria?’ Hannah's text read. ‘I am parked two blocks down. Do not tell me you are backing out now. Tonight is the grand opening of Obsidian. We are getting in, no matter what.’

Vittoria stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She had already dressed beneath her oversized bathrobe, wearing a silk, emerald-green slip dress that she had bought on a whim and never had the courage to wear. It clung to her curves, the deep neckline showing far more skin than her mother would ever permit. She applied a quick coat of red lipstick, her fingers shaking slightly.

‘I am coming, Hannah,’ Vittoria texted back. "Do not start the car yet. I will be there in two minutes."

‘Hurry up, girl!’ Hannah replied. ‘The line is already forming. We cannot miss the opening.’

She pushed her window screen up, climbed onto the sturdy tree branch that grew close to her window, and slid down to the damp grass. She ran down the driveway, her heart hammering against her ribs. At the end of the block, Hannah's compact sedan was idling, the headlights dimmed. Vittoria opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, panting.

"Look at you!" Hannah gasped, her eyes widening as Vittoria shed her trench coat. "You look absolutely stunning, Vittoria! That dress is damn sexy. I knew you had a wild side hidden under all those oversized sweaters."

"My heart is beating so fast I think it might explode," Vittoria admitted, adjusting her mirror. "If my mother finds out, she will move us to Alaska by tomorrow morning. She was pacing the living room again tonight."

"She is just paranoid, babe," Hannah said, pulling out onto the main road. "You are twenty-one years old. You deserve to live a little. You cannot spend your entire youth hiding in a locked house."

"She says my father's past is dangerous," Vittoria murmured, watching the suburban houses yield to the city lights. "But she never tells me what he did. She just says he made bad choices."

"Parents always hide things to protect us," Hannah said, turning a corner. "But tonight, we do not think about our parents. We think about fun. Are you ready girl?"

"I think so," Vittoria said, swallowing hard. "I just want to feel normal for one night. I want to see what everyone else is doing."

"Well, tonight we are doing just that," Hannah declared, pointing at a massive, matte-black building in the heart of the entertainment district. "Look at that place. Obsidian. They say the owner spent twenty million dollars on it. It is the most exclusive club on the coast."

"We will never get past the bouncers, Hannah," Vittoria sighed, looking at the wealthy, glamorous crowd behind the velvet ropes. "They look like they only let in models. We do not have VIP passes."

"Just watch me, Vittoria," Hannah smirked, parking the car. "I can get us in anywhere. Trust me."

They alighted the car and made their way to the entrance. As they approached the entrance, thumping bass vibrated through the asphalt and settled deep in Vittoria's chest. The air outside felt electric, charged with tension. Massive bouncers in black suits scanned the crowd.

"Excuse me," Hannah said, stepping to the front and smiling at the head bouncer, a man with a scar running down his jaw. "We are on the guest list. Under Hannah Alessio."

The bouncer did not look at his tablet. "No entry without a VIP pass tonight, ladies. Clear the path."

"But we traveled so far," Hannah pleaded, leaning in. "Is there really no way you can make an exception for us? It is her twenty-first birthday celebration."

"Move along," the bouncer grunted, his tone dropping to a dangerous register. "Do not make me repeat myself."

"Let us just go, Hannah," Vittoria whispered, tugging her friend's sleeve. "This was a mistake. We do not belong here. I feel like we are being watched anyway."

"Wait," a smooth voice intervened.

A tall man in a gray suit stepped from the shadows, holding an earpiece. His eyes locked onto Vittoria, lingering on her emerald dress.

"Let them in, Marcus," the man ordered.

The bouncer blinked, clearly surprised. "Sir, Mr. Marchetti's orders were very specific about the list tonight. Nobody else gets in."

"I know what the orders are, Marcus," the man replied, unhooking the velvet rope. "These two are guests of the house. Welcome to Obsidian, ladies."

"Thank you so much!" Hannah squealed, pulling Vittoria through the glass doors. "See? I told you I could do it!"

"Who was that man, Hannah?" Vittoria asked, her breath catching as they entered the foyer. The air smelled of luxury, spice, and expensive champagne. "He looked at me so strangely."

"Who cares who he was?" Hannah laughed, her eyes wide under the dark violet neon lights. "We are inside! Look at this place, Vittoria. It is like another world."

"It is beautiful, but it feels stuffy," Vittoria said, scanning the multi-level layout. Above the dance floor, private glass balconies hung like cages. The people inside them looked serious, clad in dark formal wear. "They are not even dancing. They are just watching us."

"They are the VIPs, sweetie," Hannah said, leading her to the circular bar. "They pay for the right to look down on everyone. Now, what are you drinking?"

"Just club soda with lime, please," Vittoria said, looking around. "I want to keep my head clear."

"Oh, come on, Vittoria!" Hannah protested, waving her hand at the bartender. "It is your twenty-first birthday celebration! You have to get something hot. Can we get two vodka cranberries, please?"

"Fine, but only one, Hannah," Vittoria agreed, her eyes drawn back to the upper tiers. "I promised my mother I would be in bed by midnight, even if she thinks I am asleep."

"Your mother is not here, Vittoria," Hannah pointed out, handing her a glass. "Drink up. Let the music take over."

"I will try," Vittoria said, taking a sip. The liquid burned her throat, but she welcomed the warmth. "But why did that man in the gray suit let us in? He looked at me like he knew me."

"Maybe he saw how gorgeous you look in that green dress," Hannah teased, clinking her glass against Vittoria's. "Stop worrying and enjoy the night."

"I want to," Vittoria said, her heart rate finally starting to slow down. "It is just hard to turn off the voice in my head. I always feel like something bad is about to happen."

"Then let me turn it off for you," Hannah said, grabbing her hand. "Come on, let us go closer to the dance floor. You need to move."

"No, you go ahead," Vittoria said, backing away from the crowd. "I will stay here by the bar and watch. I am not ready for the crowd yet. I want to drink this first."

"Are you sure, Vittoria?" Hannah asked, looking concerned. "I do not want to leave you alone on your birthday."

"I am sure," Vittoria smiled, pushing her friend gently. "Go. Dance. Have fun. I will be right here."

"Alright, but do not move!" Hannah called out, disappearing into the crowd.

Vittoria turned back to the bar, holding her drink. She felt a sudden pressure in the air, like a storm rolling in. She turned her head, her gaze drifting up toward the highest, darkest balcony of the club.

And that was when she saw him. He was dressed in black, standing entirely still against the shadows. His face looked like it was carved from cold stone, with dark eyes that seemed to pierce right through her. He was not looking at the crowd or the dancers. His eyes were locked entirely on her, watching her with an intensity that made her breath stall in her throat. She could not move. She could not look away. The world around her seemed to fade into silence, leaving only the dark stranger holding her gaze hostage.

"Who is that standing up there?" Vittoria asked the bartender, her voice barely a whisper. "The man in the black suit on the top balcony."

The bartender glanced up, his expression instantly freezing. He lowered his voice, leaning across the counter. "You do not want to look at him too long, girl. That is Cassian Marchetti."

"Cassian Marchetti?" Vittoria repeated the name even though it tasted unfamiliar on her tongue. "Who is he?"

"The owner of this place," the bartender muttered, quickly wiping down a glass. "And the man who owns this city. If he is looking at you, my advice is to finish your drink and leave."

"Why?" Vittoria asked, her gaze drifting back to the balcony. "What does he do?"

"He does not do anything himself," the bartender whispered, casting a nervous glance around them. "He just commands. And everyone obeys. Now, do yourself a favor and do not look back up there."

But Vittoria could not help it. She looked up again, and this time, the man in black slowly raised his glass toward her in a silent toast.