Chapter 8

Damian

The best part of pretending to be a doting, loyal boyfriend to these desperate whores? The sex; raw, mindless, and unapologetically filthy. Especially after a few days apart. This one, she didn’t even flinch. Had no gag reflexes at all, and absolutely no shame. I know a few senators and underbosses who’d pay top dollar for her.

When she finally leaves, I sprawl across the bed, arms behind my head, satisfied and smug. Tomorrow’s going to be a good day.

Dad’s unofficially let me off the hook with this bullshit engagement, but for it to stick, we need undeniable proof it was Sophia in that video. The kind of evidence you can’t buy your way out of. So far, the nudes alone are doing enough damage to her reputation. Hell, I’ve even shared a few myself.

Originally, I planned to walk in and toss the pictures in Riccardo’s smug face and walk, but that would probably make the pedophile happy. It would be the quiet and clean way to do it. But Dad wants to see fireworks. So, he looped in Luca, our Capo. He said it was for ‘strategic’ counsel, but I know that Luca doesn’t like Riccardo either.

Luca didn’t waste any time; he laid out a plan that just shuts everything down as quickly as possible. No way for anything to go wrong. We are going to bring in the Familia’s private gynecologist to examine Sophia, in front of witnesses. No secrets, no lies. Just cold, humiliating facts. Once the results are in, the Familia will bury her.

He also warned me that Riccardo’s dangerous and can never be trusted. He is ruthless and cunning. He’s also been keeping Sareena hidden from everyone, even from his father, Gino. That part made me laugh. Luca clearly has no love for Riccardo either, but we all know he loves and respects Gino.

Watching Riccardo’s golden daughter fall from grace? That’s going to be satisfying as hell.

For the first time since this engagement was shoved down my throat, I actually feel free. The plan’s solid. Sophia can scream all she wants; it won’t matter. But that’s not what’s keeping me wired. It’s Sareena Morelli.

A few days ago, I didn’t even know she existed. Now? I can’t get her out of my head. Those big, dark beautiful doe eyes. That quiet fire behind them. The way she stood her ground without even trying. And yeah… that G-string. I can’t stop imagining her in it.

She’s everything Sophia isn’t. She’s pure and uncomplicated; real. I also need her to see that I’m not the stuttering asshole she met at the airport.

I lace up my running shoes and head out. Central Park at 5 a.m. is the only time this damn city feels alive in a good way. It’s clean. Fresh, but more importantly it feels empty.

My phone buzzes. Who the hell is texting me at this hour?

I check the screen and freeze. It’s Maria Morelli. What the fuck?

This woman has never looked me in the eye, let alone ever spoken to me. I always figured she saw me as gutter trash. Most elder Familia mothers do. None of them want me to focus on their daughters. If they are seen with me, they could ruin their own reputations, unless it involves marriage. They would let their daughters marry me but not hang out with me, fearing that I would turn them into prostitutes.

How the hell did she get my number? Curiosity itches beneath my skin. I open the message.

‘Damian, this is Maria Morelli. I’m Sophia and Sareena’s mother. I need your help. Please meet me at the café across from Julia Benedetti’s gym. 6 a.m. This is urgent.’ It screams setup… until a second message comes through. It’s a photo. One of the twins; bloodied, dazed, barely conscious. Her face is bruised; blood streaked down the side of her head like war paint.

My gut twists. A small part of me wants it to be Sophia. Maybe Riccardo finally saw her for what she is. But I already know the truth. It’s Sareena.

I text back, fingers tight around my phone. ‘What can I do? Shouldn’t you be talking to your family?’

She replies almost instantly. ‘Nothing is what it seems. You need to help me protect Sareena from Riccardo and Sophia.’

She’s giving me just enough to keep me on the line, but not enough to understand the full picture. I type fast. ‘I’ll be there in 20. Back booth. If this is a setup, your husband and your precious daughter are both dead.’

I hit send and bolt out the door, slicing through the cold morning air like a blade. I don’t know why I care so much. But if Sophia had anything to do with hurting Sareena? I will end her.

Maria

I don’t know if texting Damian was the right move. Maybe I should’ve tried harder to find Vincent or Gabriella’s numbers, children of the Benedetti’s. Our Capo and the Consigliere. The children are both really close with Sareena. Maybe they could help… or make their fathers help.

Last night, I risked everything sneaking into Riccardo’s office. All I found was one number - Damian’s. So here I am, clinging to a sliver of hope. Maybe if he won’t help, he can at least reach out to the Benedetti’s for me.

I go to the gym every morning, so leaving the house early didn’t raise suspicions. The café across the street is quiet this time of day. As I enter, my hands are clammy, and my heart thuds like a war drum in my chest. But I don’t have the luxury of fear. Not anymore.

After I admitted Sareena to the hospital last night, I came home to Riccardo and Sophia whispering in the study. I listened; hidden in the shadows. What I heard made me sick.

The Gynecological exam, that was just the beginning. They were already planning on swapping the girls, passing Sareena off as Sophia, to fool Damian’s father and the gynecologist.

But, once the engagement is saved and secured, they’ll hand Sareena to Tommy. He’ll drug her, violate her, and film everything. The tape will go viral, clearing Sophia’s name and ruining Sareena’s. And when the dust settles? Riccardo plans to marry her off to Enzo Anducci.

My stomach turns at the name. An old, widowed underboss. His third wife; barely twenty-two - killed herself. Said she couldn’t take the pressure. He’s cruder than any man I’ve ever known. He’s filthy; vile and more than three times Sareena’s age.

No. Not this time. I will not fail her again.

The café was pretty busy, so I order a green tea and a granola bar to blend in. I’m not hungry, but it would draw more attention if I was just sitting in a corner doing nothing.

I slide into a booth in the back, facing the door, heart pounding like it’s about to split my ribs. I try to look normal. Try to look composed. Just a patron grabbing tea before the gym.

Damian arrives fifteen minutes later. He steps inside with quiet power, eyes sweeping around the entire place, before he spots me. He also orders his coffee and then heads over.

“Good morning, Mrs. Morelli,” he says loud enough for anyone listening. “What a coincidence. Mind if I join you? Haven’t had the pleasure of speaking with my future mother-in-law.” He slides into the booth. The second he’s seated, the act drops. “I’m trying to figure out what game you’re playing. Why should I trust you? You’ve stood by Sophia and Riccardo this whole time. Why now? And why Sareena?”

Something inside me breaks and the tears come fast, hot, and unexpected. I cover my face with a napkin, shaking as I try to speak. He says nothing. Just hands me a napkin and waits until I settle a little.

“Start from the beginning,” he says quietly.

So, I do. I tell him everything.

How the abuse started right after the wedding. Riccardo smiled for the family and the priests but then beat me behind closed doors, because he couldn’t perform on our wedding night, and we needed to show bloody sheets in the morning. After that, I became his prisoner, and his trophy wife.

I told him about the nudes he took of me. The ones he cropped to hide my face before uploading them to the dark web. Then about the infertility: my so-called failure, when it was his body that was broken and how he refused IVF treatment because he didn’t want his father to find out.

And Vegas. That trip still haunts me. He handed me over to a Camorra associate like I was nothing more than a business favor. I was held and raped for days, until Riccardo came to get me. When we came back to New York, I was pregnant. Riccardo claimed the man died shortly after. Whether that’s true or not, I don’t know. But he swore no one would ever know. And so, I kept the secret. I had two children I needed to raise.

I tell Damian all about Sareena. Her brilliance. How Riccardo hated it; hated her because she made him feel small. She won awards, scholarships and got recognition, everywhere. And every time someone praised her, Riccardo would smile in public and beat me in private.

He loved Sophia because she did his bidding. He spoiled her, controlled her and twisted her into something cruel.

Then I tell him the worst part. The night I heard Sareena scream.

I ran to her room. Tommy was holding her down, trying to rip her top, while Riccardo was filming. I fought them off, then begged Gino to help me get her out. I didn’t tell him what Riccardo was doing, but I convinced him, it would raise the family’s honor. That her grades would elevate the family’s name and everyone would be proud. Gino helped sell it all to Riccardo. And we got her out.

Later, I asked Sophia if anything had happened to her. She said no. But not long after, she had new dolls, new jewelry and expensive gifts, so I knew. But I couldn’t save her. Being a genius saved Sareena. Staying behind ruined Sophia.

I pause. Damian says nothing. Just stares at me, his jaw tight. I finally say what he needs to know. “They’re not examining Sophia tomorrow. Riccardo plans to switch the girls. Sareena’s being hidden and only a few people know she’s back.”

His eyes narrow.

“She took a ‘Voto Di Castità’ at her Confirmation. Do you know what that is?” I whisper. “She wears the ‘Anello Di Promessa Di Castità’ on her thumb. That vow? It means nothing goes inside her. Not even tampons. Not until she’s married before God.”

Damian stiffens, choking slightly on his coffee.

“She’s innocent,” I say, barely holding it together. “And they’re going to ruin her. The moment the engagement is secure, Tommy will drug and rape her. Record it and blast it everywhere. All to save Sophia’s reputation. And then? Riccardo will hand her over to Anducci.”

My tears spill freely again. I can’t hold them back. “If you can’t help… please. Contact Vincent. Gabriella. They’ll protect her. I can’t… but I’ll do anything to stop this. Please, Damian. Do something.”

He leans forward, voice low, hard as steel. “I’ll help. I’ll get her out. And Riccardo? Sophia? They’ll answer for every scar.”

I nod, breath hitching in relief. He tells me to keep playing along. Pretend I’m still loyal to Riccardo. Buy him time. He’ll take care of the rest.

As he rises to leave, he says only one more thing; just loud enough for me to hear:

“She’s not alone anymore.”