The Queen's War (Book one of The Mafia Throne)

The night was quiet and calm, the kind of peace that never lasted long in the Moretti estate. Only the soft drizzle of rain broke the silence, tapping gently against the tiled roof while the guards stood at their posts, alert and unmoving.

Dressed in all black, Arabelle moved through the shadows, her long coat fluttering behind her like a phantom's wing. She pressed herself against the marble pillars, waiting for each guard's turn to look away before slipping past them. Her heart raced, not from fear, but from anticipation.

She finally reached the garden gate, the only place left unguarded, and slipped inside. The scent of wet roses filled the air. The glass flower house glimmered in the darkness, her secret haven since childhood.

"Arabelle."

The voice stopped her heartbeat. Soft, sweet, a melody she'd been craving for weeks.

She turned, and there she was. Lucia. Standing between the flowerbeds, arms open, a mischievous smile lighting up her face. Her dark hair was loose tonight, cascading over her shoulders the way Arabelle loved, wild and free, so different from the rigid woman her family tried to force her to be.

"Lucia..." Arabelle whispered, before running into her embrace. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, amore mio (my love)." Lucia murmured, brushing her fingers through Arabelle's damp hair. Her touch was gentle, reverent, as though Arabelle were something precious she'd been afraid she'd lost. When they pulled apart, their eyes lingered and Lucia leaned in, pressing a slow, tender kiss to her lips.

The kiss was soft at first, stolen warmth in the middle of the cold night. Arabelle melted into it, her hands clutching Lucia's coat as if to pull her closer, as if the world might vanish if she let go. Lucia's lips tasted like rain and stolen moments, like every secret they'd ever shared.

When they parted, Arabelle rested her forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the humid air. She traced her thumb along Lucia's jawline, memorizing the curve of it in the darkness.

"I wasn't expecting you to be here. What if you got caught?"

"It won't happen, amore mio(my love). And besides, this is the only way I can get to see you." Lucia's hand found Arabelle's, their fingers intertwining naturally, perfectly.  

"Gosh." A frown settled on Arabelle's face. "I wish our families could just end the hostility between them so we can be together. I'm tired of hiding us. I'm tired of pretending you're not the only person who makes me feel alive."

"I know right. But don't worry, we will find a way out of all this. I promise you, Arabelle, one day we won't have to sneak around like this. One day I'll wake up next to you without fear." Lucia took the small box she hid in her coat out. "Here, I got you something." 

Arabelle took it and opened it eagerly. Lying inside the box was a beautiful diamond necklace sparkling in the darkness.

"Oh my…" she gasped and covered her mouth. "This is too good, I love it."

"I'm glad you do. I wanted you to have something beautiful, something that reminds you we're real, even when we have to hide." Lucia flashed her a smile. "Turn around, let me help you put it on." 

Arabelle did as she said, taking her hair off her shoulder. She closed her eyes as Lucia's fingertips brushed against the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. The cool metal settled against her skin, but it was Lucia's touch that made her breath catch. When the clasp clicked, Lucia pressed a soft kiss to the nape of her neck, lingering there.

"It looks good on you." 

"Grazie, orsetto (thank you bear)." Arabelle said, turning back around and touching the pendant of the necklace. She pulled Lucia close again, their bodies fitting together like pieces meant to complete each other. "You're everything to me. You know that, right?"

"And you're mine," Lucia whispered, cupping Arabelle's face in both hands. "Always have been. Always will be. No matter what our families say."

The dim light caught the sparkle of the necklace, and Lucia kissed the hollow of Arabelle’s throat, slow and reverent. Arabelle’s hands tangled in Lucia’s hair, pulling her closer until their lips met again, this time deeper, hungrier, as if to steal back the moments life had stolen from them.

They sank onto the stone bench behind them, whispering, laughing softly, sharing secrets and promises neither could keep. The rain outside had grown heavier, drumming like a heartbeat against the glass.

A sudden clang echoed from somewhere outside, making them freeze.

Lucia lifted her head, her eyes darkening. “Did you hear that?”

Arabelle nodded, pulse racing. The sound came again, this time clearer. Heavy boots. Voices.

Lucia grabbed her by the wrist, her tone sharp now. “Guards. Damn it, they must have noticed you were gone.”

“What do we do?” Arabelle whispered.

Lucia glanced around quickly, her gaze darting toward the side door. “You have to go now. Through the east path. I’ll find a way out.”

“I can’t leave you…”

“Yes, you can. You must.” Lucia cupped her face one last time, her thumb trembling against her cheek. “I’ll come see you again soon.”

Arabelle hesitated for only a heartbeat before turning and slipping through the narrow gate, heart pounding as she vanished into the rain-soaked night.

Lucia watched her go, then straightened, her expression hardening as the beam of a flashlight swept across the flower house.

____

NEXT DAY.

The morning sun streamed through the open window, its light falling softly across Arabelle’s face as she slept. The maid drew the curtains aside, letting more light spill into the room.

Arabelle’s brow knotted as she shifted, still half-lost in sleep.

“It’s morning, Miss Arabelle,” the maid said gently, trying not to startle her.

“Get your hands off me.” Arabelle snapped, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “What do you want?” Her voice was rough; the maid trembled where she stood.

“The… the Don is waiting for you in the dining room,” the maid stammered, eyes down.

“Accidenti (damn).” Arabelle cursed under her breath. “What does he want this time?”

“He demands you have breakfast with him.”

“Since when does Father care about breakfast?” She let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Tell him I'm not interested.”

“I’m afraid that’s not an option, miss.” The maid’s words rushed out.

“Esci dalla mia stanza prima che perda la pazienza con te. (Get out of my room before I lose my patience with you.).” Arabelle warned, trying to steady herself as she swung her feet to the floor.

She walked into the bathroom and stripped naked, her gaze lingering on her reflection in the mirror. Her skin glistened faintly under the soft light flawless.

She turned the tap and filled the bathtub with warm water, then slipped in slowly, letting the heat relax her nerves. The silence was her only comfort. 

After her bath, she wrapped herself in a towel and stepped out. She dressed in a simple floral gown, tied her hair into a messy ponytail, and slipped on her slippers. No jewelry, no makeup, except the necklace Lucia had given her. She hesitated before touching it gently, then let her hand fall away.

Downstairs, the air in the dining room was thick with the scent of cigars and freshly brewed espresso. Her father was already seated at the head of the long mahogany table, a newspaper in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.

“What took you so long?” Vittorio’s voice came sharp and commanding, without even looking up.

“You don’t expect me to come down here without cleaning up, do you?” Arabelle replied bluntly, taking a seat at the far end of the table.

His eyes finally lifted. Cold. Calculating.

“Where were you last night?” he asked suddenly.

Her hand froze around the glass cup she’d just lifted. The question hit her like a gunshot.

Did he know? Has anyone seen her with Lucia?

“What are you talking about? I was in my room throughout.” She raised the cup to her lips and gulped the water to hide her trembling.

“Don’t play smart, Arabelle,” Vittorio said, setting his newspaper aside. “I know you’re up to something and I’ll find out soon enough. When I do, you know what’s at stake.”

“You’re thinking too far, Father,” she said coolly, trying to hold her composure.

But his gaze had already shifted to her neck.

“And where did you get that?” His voice hardened as his eyes settled on the diamond necklace glinting softly against her skin.

“Father!” Arabelle slammed her hand against the table and stood up. “What’s with all these questions this morning? It will be better you start checking out things j buy for myself so you won't worry too much.” She smirked and continued. “Because I don't understand what's up with this sudden interrogation?”

“Sit down,” he said quietly but his tone was dangerous.

She turned without another word and stormed out of the dining room, her pulse hammering in her throat.

“Come back here, you little bitch!” Vittorio roared

, his voice echoing through the mansion halls.

But she didn’t stop. She never did. But she knew one day, she would pay for it.