Chapter 1

Unspoken Truths - Chapter 1

Damian

I finally have everything. The woman I love, a future carved out in the Familia, and the life I want - no, the life I will have. Sareena’s mine: my girlfriend, and now my fiancée. She’s the woman who will one day be my wife and the mother of my children. Two girls and a mini-me.

I’ve also been named Captain under Gino Morelli, the Underboss in Connecticut, who also happens to be Sareena’s Nono. The position is now official, and the respect that comes with it grows by the day. I’ve passed on my old title, Romancer, to the only man I trust with it: Matthew Puliatti, my best friend and future best man. The role fits him, and he has earned it.

Now, all that’s left is building stability. I’ve decided Sareena will finish her medical residency at New York-Presbyterian/Columbia University Irving Medical Center, one of the top hospitals in the country. She’s brilliant, and I’ll make sure nothing, and no one, stands in her way.

For the past four hours, we’ve been wrapped around each other on our flight from London to New York, tangled in our own little world, talking about everything: our pasts, our future, and the life we’ll create together.

Now, with her curled up in my arms, warm and half-asleep, I can’t stop smiling. She’s wearing nothing but my T-shirt and that damn white G-string. The same one that ruined me the day we met. For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m on the right path. Like I’ve won.

The pilot’s voice crackles over the intercom, jarring us from our bubble. I ignore the words; it’s just background noise. I already know we’re about forty-five minutes from landing.

Reluctantly, I unwrap myself from Sareena’s body. She rolls over with a sleepy pout. “Can we just fly back and forth…?” she mumbles.

We gather our things and head back to our seats. Matt watches us with thinly veiled amusement, stretching out like a lazy cat. “Well, Sareena,” he says, grin in place, “I told you, Damian’s got nothing on that p**n star. You’re walking just fine after four hours in the sky with him. Starting to think he was a little… underwhelming.” He laughs, and surprisingly, Sareena laughs too.

I shoot him a glare that says, ‘fuck off’, but I let the comment slide. For now, anyways.

The pilot’s voice cuts through the cabin again. “Final descent. Seatbelts on.”

I settle in beside Sareena, making sure she’s buckled in before securing my own. She takes my hand, leans in, her breath brushing my ear. “I love you, Damian,” she whispers. “Thank you… for everything. I will talk to Nono as soon as we get home. No more hiding, no more waiting. We’re going to be together.” Her fingers tighten around mine. “I can’t wait to finish school and finally marry you.”

Her words settle deep inside me. I kiss her hand and hold it tightly, protectively, all the way until the wheels touch down.

Because we were on Luca’s private jet, we bypass the chaos of commercial airports and land directly at his private hangar. Security and immigration go smoothly. Everything was perfect -

until we stepped into the arrivals lounge.

The moment we walk in, we notice that Gino Morelli and his men have taken over the space, the entire area feels tense and controlled. My Underboss and my future comrades. I start to move toward him, hand outstretched, but Sareena rushes past me, throwing herself into his arms.

“Oh, Nono, I’m so happy to be back,” she says breathlessly. “I missed you so much. We have so much to talk about.”

Gino kisses her on the forehead and hugs her tightly. When she pulls back, her eyes shine with that warmth I’m used to seeing. Then she turns to me, her grip tightening around my hand as she pulls me closer, like a silent declaration that we belong to each other, that no one can break what we have.

“Nono,” she says, her voice firmer now, “thanks to Damian, I’m home safe, and as you always wanted, I’m in love.” Her grip tightens even more. “He’s everything I need, and we’re going to be together.”

I take a step beside her just as a sharp cry cuts through the air.

“See, Grandpa? I told you!”

Everyone turns as Sophia strides through the doorway; heartbreak carved into every line of her face. Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, but the sharpness of her posture, the poised elegance of her every movement tells me this is entirely calculated. This isn’t genuine emotion. It’s just a performance.

“He abandoned me to go find Sareena,” she says, her voice trembling. “He played me from the start, seduced me, used me, then passed me around like a whore.”

She looks straight at me now, her eyes wide and watery. The pity in her gaze is deliberate.

“He was the Romancer, Grandpa. He made me think I was special. But the whole time, he was planning to throw me away.”

The entire room goes still, all eyes locked on her. Sophia steps closer, milking every moment, each movement choreographed to perfection. She’s reeling them in, like a master manipulator in her element.

“And when I wouldn’t listen,” she continues, her voice cracking with practiced pain, “when I fought for him, he lured me to his apartment, used me again, then called the cops to have me dragged away like a criminal.” A single tear escapes and slides down her cheek. “Now, he’s doing the same to Sareena. He’s going to ruin her just like he ruined me, then throw her away like garbage.”

Beside me, Sareena’s grip tightens like a vice, but it’s more than anger now. There’s a flicker of doubt in her eyes that quickly disappears. She’s pushing it all down, but I saw it. She’s afraid.

I don’t move, don’t speak, but deep inside, I’m already gearing up. This is war – and I don’t lose wars.