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I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Relief floods through me at not having to endure the don’s icy stare over breakfast. I can only handle one Ricci’s intense gaze at a time.
As the meal winds down, the brothers’ conversation turns to coded business matters I can’t decipher. Antonio takes the lead, the others clearly deferring to his authority. His smooth confidence and command of the room draw me in once more, though I try to resist his magnetic pull.
When Antonio casually rests his arm on the back of my chair mid-discussion, my breath hitches in my throat. That subtle contact makes my pulse spike wildly. Get it together, I silently scold myself for such a visceral reaction. What's wrong with me? He's holding my father's life over my head, yet being near him stirs feelings nothing else ever has.
Noticing my reddening cheeks, Antonio lifts his arm away abruptly, as if scalded. "My apologies," he mutters, glancing my way only briefly.
Face burning, I just nod in acknowledgment. The leather chair feels cold and bare where he touched it. I rise quickly, the carved legs scraping loudly against the tile floor.
"Please excuse me, I need some fresh air," I mumble, keeping my eyes down as I hurry out to the garden. My skin still tingles where he made contact.
This cannot be happening. Antonio Ricci is a ruthless predator who sees me as a pawn. Yet even the slightest touch sets my every nerve alight. No matter how hard I try to resist, his pull on me grows stronger by the hour. I can only pray I'm not flying straight into the flame.
The fragrant morning air helps clear my muddled thoughts. In the sprawling backyard, manicured hedges and bursts of colorful blooms stretch out before me. I meander slowly along the gravel pathway, drinking in the serene garden surroundings. It’s a welcome change from breakfast’s underlying tension.
Rounding a sun-dappled corner, I enter a courtyard with a delicate marble fountain at its center. I perch on the fountain's edge, trailing my fingers through the cool, clear water. Eyes closed, I focus on the soothing trickle, allowing it to drown out my crowded thoughts. For a moment, I can almost pretend I’m not a hostage in a mafia boss’s home.
"Signorina Clara?" a gravelly voice interrupts, jolting me upright.
I startle, water dripping down my arm as I turn to face the unfamiliar man. Tall and broad-shouldered, he has leathery skin and gnarled hands - definitely one of the estate gardeners. His gruff presence instantly puts me on edge.
"This fell from a little bird's mouth earlier. I think he meant it for you." In his outstretched palm sits a small, neatly folded note.
My brows knit together in confusion, but I accept the paper cautiously. "Oh, uh...thank you." Strange. Who would send me messages here?
The gardener tips his hat and continues along the path, leaving me alone once more. I unfold the note slowly, reading the cryptic contents with growing dread:
Clara,
The eyes of the Ricci family are not the only ones watching over your father. When the time comes, another powerful family may call upon you for assistance. Consider this carefully. Your predicament is known to more than just the Ricci brothers. They may be your way out. Tread wisely.
My breath catches in my throat. Though it isn’t signed, there’s only one mafia family in this city as influential as the Riccis: the Ferraros. But how do they know about my situation? And why would they contact me, here in the heart of rival territory? Anxiety twists my insides.
If the Ferraros are monitoring my father as leverage like the Riccis, then he's in even more danger than I realized. One false move and they could easily put a bullet in his head. Bile rises in my throat at the thought. I gulp lungfuls of air to force it back down, crumpling the ominous note in my trembling fist.
I need privacy to process this. Wandering behind a tall hedge, I finally release the emotions swelling within. Hot tears spring to my eyes as I muffle broken sobs into my sleeves. Fear for my father swirls with anger at his reckless choices. Exhaustion wars with despair at my own bleak future. I’m caught in the deadly web of rival mafias, bound by threats to the only family I have left. And despite my alarming attraction to Antonio, I’m utterly alone here.
Gradually the torrent slows, leaving me hollowed out on the garden bench. How did I go from ordinary student to mafia pawn overnight? The life I knew has been completely shattered. Enduring the Riccis’ hospitality and Antonio’s intense gaze over breakfast was difficult enough. But now, knowing the Ferraros’ eyes are also upon me, continuing this charade seems impossible.
In desperation, I dig a hole at the base of the hedge, burying the ominous note. As if hiding it from sight will make all my problems disappear. Wiping the remaining tears from my eyes, I take a few deep breaths to regain composure before anyone sees me again. I can’t let them see how shaken I am, or they’ll know something is amiss.
The Ferraros’ message is clear: they expect me to betray the Riccis when the time comes. Refusal would mean my father’s death. But double-crossing the Riccis would likely end the same way. I’m trapped on a knife’s edge between two deadly families, forced to walk an impossible tightrope. One misstep means disaster.
CHAPTER6
ANTONIO
My eyes scan over the expanse of the Ricci mansion, its familiar details doing nothing to ease the coiled restlessness within me. I should be going over security protocols, making sure the grounds are locked down tight. Instead, my thoughts are persistently invaded by Clara.
I force myself to focus, striding toward the security hub where my men monitor a wall of surveillance feeds. This estate is a fortress, outfitted with military-grade systems to deter intruders. Thermal cameras sweep the perimeter day and night, able to detect the slightest anomaly in heat signatures. Motion sensors dot the grounds, triggering silent alarms at any disruption. We have enough firepower to arm a small militia, ready to neutralize external threats.
All these precautions to keep my family safe. I need to ensure no stone has been left unturned.
One of my men, Luca, straightens from his monitor as I enter. "Everything's quiet, boss."
I nod, eyes flicking over the feeds. The thermal cameras show vast swaths of cool blue, with only small reddish blobs marking where guards patrol the grounds. The motion sensors are all inactive.
"Let's do another sweep of the grounds," I say. "I want two men covering the front gate."
