ROSA’S POVThe apartment was too quiet. So quiet I could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock on the mantle and the sound of it was driving me crazy. I wasn’t used to this, used to staying in one spot, not doing anything, not hustling for survival.There were no cartoons playing in the background, no little footsteps racing around, no Sofia singing to herself in the other room. Just silence, and the low hum of the fridge. I stared at the half-eaten sandwich on my plate, then pushed it away. The couch felt too big without her curled up beside me. I had enrolled her in school last week, thinking it would help, that it would give her structure, friends, normalcy. But the mornings had become long and strange. I wasn’t used to stillness. And Enzo, well… he was consumed. Between the threats, the murders, the tension rising on every corner of the city, he barely slept. I didn’t blame him. But I missed him. It was hard to admit but I missed his attention. I glanced at my phone again.
VICENZO’S POVThe sirens were still howling in my ears long after the cops left. This week was taking a toll on me. From run-ins with the authorities to the bribes I had to pay some dirty cops, it felt like the whole world was crashing on me. My men had been sober since the deaths. It was different because we didn’t know who had a target on us. I slammed the door of the warehouse behind me, my jaw clenched, and my shirt soaked through with sweat. Two of my guys were still in the alley, cleaning up blood. One of them—Nico—had a gash across his shoulder. He hadn’t even winced when it was being stitched up. They were used to pain now. We all were. And he was grateful to be alive. If he hadn’t fought back, h
ROSA’S POVI didn’t even need to check my phone to know the photos had made it to Vicenzo. I didn’t need to call him and ask. Vicenzo knew everything that happened in the city and someone must have sent the picture to him. The air around me felt heavier today, like it knew a storm was coming. I stood on the sidewalk, two blocks away from my apartment, arms crossed tight over my chest, my hair pulled up into a rushed bun. I hadn't wanted to come out but Salvatore had been pressuring me over the phone and I didn’t want him to show up at the apartment.His car rolled to a stop a few minutes later in front of me and he stepped out of his car
VICENZO’S POVI burst into the penthouse, my shirt bloodied, and my knuckles raw. My chest was heaving like I’d just fought off death itself and in a way, I had. I slammed the door shut with a loud thud and tossed my keys on the counter. My jaw ached, and the side of my ribs throbbed with every breath, and I could still taste the metallic tang of rage and blood on my tongue. Every part of my body aches and it felt like a machine had rammed into me. I barely made it three steps into the room before I froze.There, sitting in my living room like he didn’t have a care in the world , was Don Alessio Moretti, my father.
ROSA’S POVI couldn’t stop shaking.The door slammed behind me with a loud, final crack and I leaned against it, my chest heaving, and my hands trembling. My palms stung where they’d scraped the rough sidewalk trying to get between them, between Vicenzo and Salvatore, two men with fire in their veins and blood in their eyes. But it was Vicenzo’s voice that gutted me.He had meant every word of his threat and I couldn’t wrap my head around how fiercely Vicenzo loved Sofia even though I had told him she wasn’t his. He had told me he would kill me…me, if I let Salvatore near her. He didn’t know Sofia didn’t eve
VICENZO’S POVAfter my father left, I locked the front door and pressed my back against it, dragging in a breath that didn’t settle right in my chest.The silence of the penthouse pressed in like a noose. It was too quiet. Too clean. Too damn still for the storm inside my head. My father had sent the guards away when he came in and I didn’t feel like calling them back. I didn’t even take my shoes off, I just moved straight to the bathroom, peeling my shirt off as I walked. Blood had dried along the collar and smeared in streaks down my stomach, crusted over open scrapes and blooming bruises.
ROSA’S POVI woke up on the couch, the blanket tangled around my legs, my heart racing before I’d even remembered why. Then the memory came crashing back. It was the call.That voice calling me Rosalinda Pacino. For a long time I’d answered to Rosalinda Amato that I’d almost forgotten that Amato was a false surname, a name I had borrowed to live a fake life…an ordinary life. The name felt like a curse in my ears, one I hadn’t heard spoken out loud in years. Not since I’d buried it along with the people who used to say it with p
VICENZO’S POVI couldn’t sleep. Hell, I didn’t even try.The whiskey bottle was nearly empty, the night dragged too long, and my nerves were frayed like live wires. I paced the length of the penthouse, shirtless, bruised, my jaw clenched tight. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the technician’s car engulfed in flames. I heard Mateo’s voice again, “he’s dead”. My fists curled, still raw and bandaged, aching with the need to do something.This wasn't a coincidence. This was a message.
VICENZO’S POVI woke up feeling like I’d been hit by a truck. My head throbbed, my mouth was dry as dust and my limbs ached. I could still taste the smoke, blood, scotch and drugs in my mouth. And shame.I dragged myself upright, blinking against the sunlight spilling through the sheer curtains. I was still in yesterday’s clothes, but my belt was loose, my shirt open and the sheets were a mess. I didn’t have to look far to know why.I could remember lips. The heat, her mouth and a silk robe slipping off. I remembered groaning in pleasure and the hotness of her mouth.
VICENZO’S POVThe doctor showed up just after midnight, smelling of cheap cologne and panic.He didn’t knock. He knew better. One of my men had let him in and dragged him straight to the living room, where I was still kneeling beside Mateo, my hands shaking, my jaw clenched so tight it hurt.The doctor took one look at the blood-soaked towels, at Mateo’s pallor, and dropped to his knees beside me. He started barking instructions, asking for things I didn’t have. I snapped at one of my men to run downstairs, raid the pharmacy, break a goddamn window if he had to.
ROSA’S POVI tried to call Vicenzo. Once. Twice. Then again. The phone just rang and rang until that hollow beep echoed in my ear. No voicemail. No answer. Just silence where his voice should’ve been.I wanted to throw the phone away. Instead, I just held it tighter. I couldn’t afford to make any rash decisions. Sofia had stopped wailing but was sobbing quietly now. I stared at my reflection in the mirror and winced as I touched the welts across my face. I felt my lips tremble as I was moved to tears. I gathered myself together and glanced at my daughter sitting down in a corner, her eyes puffy from crying and catarrh dripping down her nose. She didn’t speak when I met her gaze so I just picked her up and took her to the bathroom. We did everything in silence till I asked her. “Want to go see Liana?” My voice was soft and tired. She nodded and I blinked the tears away as we left the house together. When Liana opened the door, I must’ve looked like hell because she didn’t say anyth
VICENZO’S POVThe shot hadn’t come from me. I didn’t realize it at first. Everything after the trigger squeeze was noise. The sound of rushing wind and the pounding of my own heart. I was shocked and I looked at Dante, he had that rotten sneer frozen on his face but he was unhurt. My gun hadn’t gone off. I blinked, confused.Then I heard the groan. Mateo.In my face off with Dante, I had forgotten we were in the middle of a shootout. The lines had blurred for me. I could only see Dante and hear his ugly words but there was Mateo. My men. I turned just in time to see him collapse behind the pillar, his hand pressed to his stomach, blood soaking through his shirt. The world slowed. My feet moved before my brain did, and I was at his side in seconds, cursing under my breath.“Fuck! Mateo, no no no…”He gave me a half-smile through gritted teeth. “I’m good. Just a scratch, boss.”He wasn’t good. There was too much blood for that. He had been hit on his chest and I feared the worst. I fea
ROSA’S POVSofia’s scream tore through the apartment, high and desperate. I jerked back so fast, I almost knocked the plate off the coffee table. Salvatore jumped too, blinking like he’d just been slapped awake. I turned and saw her standing by the hallway that led to the bedrooms. “Enzo!” she wailed. “I want Enzoooo!”I was already halfway to her, my heart pounding. Her cries weren’t the kind that faded, instead they sharpened with each breath, splitting through the quiet like glass.“Sofia, baby, what’s wrong?”
VICENZO’S POVMateo’s bullet cracked through the windshield and the car jerked hard, then the driver slumped over the wheel. Smoke rolled out from under the hood as the engine hissed and groaned. It screeched forward a few feet, tires catching on broken glass, before slamming into the stone steps outside the lobby.I didn’t wait. I tore out from behind the pillar, my gun drawn, my feet pounding against slick marble. My breath came in hard bursts but I ignored the pain coursing through my body. Someone was still in that car, I’d seen the flash. Whoever was in the backseat had opened fire on my building. My men. On me.
ROSA’S POVHe wasn’t smiling. His eyes dropped to the bag over my shoulder, then to Sofia’s small hand curled into mine. Something in his expression shifted. Concern, confusion, something more. Like he was trying to understand what was going on. “Going somewhere?” His voice was soft, not accusing. Just… watching, laced with concern. I blinked, my heart racing. “No. Just…just to Liana’s. For the night.” I couldn’t tell him I was running. I didn’t trust him and besides he was a Don, there was every possibility he could have heard about the Pacino household and
VICENZO’S POVI couldn’t sleep. Hell, I didn’t even try.The whiskey bottle was nearly empty, the night dragged too long, and my nerves were frayed like live wires. I paced the length of the penthouse, shirtless, bruised, my jaw clenched tight. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the technician’s car engulfed in flames. I heard Mateo’s voice again, “he’s dead”. My fists curled, still raw and bandaged, aching with the need to do something.This wasn't a coincidence. This was a message.
ROSA’S POVI woke up on the couch, the blanket tangled around my legs, my heart racing before I’d even remembered why. Then the memory came crashing back. It was the call.That voice calling me Rosalinda Pacino. For a long time I’d answered to Rosalinda Amato that I’d almost forgotten that Amato was a false surname, a name I had borrowed to live a fake life…an ordinary life. The name felt like a curse in my ears, one I hadn’t heard spoken out loud in years. Not since I’d buried it along with the people who used to say it with p