{Edmondo’s POV}**I don’t like what I’m becoming.A devil.Mother had said this once, that I carried inside me a devilment that I shouldn't let rule me. Yet it seems like the devilment isn't what I carried inside but who I am.The silence in this estate used to ground me, used to remind me of what it meant to control. But now? Now it’s her voice. Her face. Her goddamn presence haunting me like a curse. Like a constant reminder of what I can’t have without completely destroying it.Fuck. Even my lowly soldato dare see her beauty in her face and dare speak of it. Now, they're topping up the list of reminders.I play with the knife in my pocket with my fingers as I step into the main hallway leading to my chamber. The sharp edge of the knife bit at my fingertips. Then, I feel the sensation of a drip of liquid. Damnit. The pain of hurting myself doesn’t soothe me like it used to. It’s just a foolish distraction now, a weak one at that. Cara.I grit my teeth.Her name circles in my mi
{Edmondo’s POV}**The corridor leading to the blue room was as silent as a graveyard, just as I like it. I swipe Cara and the thoughts of her away from my head. I need to focus now. I take a turn to the next wing. Everything about this wing was deliberate. Cold. Unforgiving. Blue.The doors are reinforced steel painted in shades of icy cerulean and as I approach, they loom ahead. They stood like sentinels, warning anyone without a purpose to turn back. But I wasn’t just anyone.I was the Don. Don Edmondo D’ Avi.I stepped through the door, and the temperature plummeted instantly. It was the kind of cold that crept under your skin and dug into your bones.The blue room.This place was my invention. Torture disguised as order. Every inch of it was drenched in varying shades of blue: the walls, the floor, the furniture, even the faint, buzzing glow from the overhead lights. The glass windows reflected an endless sea of muted azure, and the table in the center was translucent sapphi
{EDMONDO'S POV}**My blood’s running too hot and I can't even feel the cold and sharp air in the Blue Room biting at my skin. I stop just short of Massimo, dangling like the pathetic piece of shit he is. Sweat drips down his face, mixing with streaks of blood, and yet the bastard still has the nerve to smirk at me when Luigi says the words he said.“You look like shit, Massimo,” I say, tilting my head. My voice is calm, too calm. That’s how I know I’m about to snap.Massimo lets out this wheezy laugh, the kind that makes me want to cave his face in. “Still standing,” he rasps, his grin widening. “You didn’t expect that, did you? The good news of your shipment and brother.”I take a step closer. If the heel of my boot weren't so soft they'd be scraping against the floor. I can feel Luigi behind me, stiff as a board, waiting for my command. “You think this is standing?” I lean in, my voice dropping.
{EDMONDO'S POV}**I stand by the door, my hand resting on the frame as the voices behind me slice through the silence of the hallway. I don't leave fully as I wait to hear the remarks Massimo might make.Not like I don't trust Luigi to give me the full information of whatever Massimo blurts out.. I just waited, perhaps he'd tell Luigi which of my brothers killed my men.Massimo’s voice is low, venomous, dripping with malice when he says. “You still… you still have those affections for him, don’t you, Luigi? You’re shit.”I hear Luigi’s sharp intake of breath. There’s a taut pause, and then he answers with a rough and defensive voice. “It’s none of your business, you know.”The silence is broken by Massimo’s snort, a harsh, mocking sound. “None of my business? You don’t think it is? You’re still his little pet, his lapdog, his creature. He doesn’t even ask you. He just calls you his dog, Luigi. How does that feel? To be love
{CARA'S POV}**Sitting in his room is getting boring. It’s a constant reminder of the mark he just created on my face. I need to walk around.Blueberries.The faint scent of blueberries wafts through the air as I step into the grand sitting room. It’s everywhere in this estate, but here, it’s stronger.The smell is sweet yet overpowering—nothing like Edmondo, who smells exactly like it. It coats the space with a strange illusion that Edmondo is here. Here with me in this cold, towering estate.For a moment, I think I’m alone with just the illusion of Edmondo. Then I see her.She stands by the window, her back to me, gazing out at the dreary garden with a few bottles of… something in her hand.Her dark curls tumble down her back, catching the faint light seeping through the heavy curtains. Her posture is poised but casual. Every movement is deliberate, like she knows she’s being watched.My stomach tightens.There’s something about her—something disturbingly similar… similar to Agata
{CARA'S POV} * * Burn. I spoke savage to her and she didn't like it. She shoves the bottles into my hands with so much force that they clink together dangerously. Her face is a thundercloud, her eyes hard and cold. “Take them,” she snaps. Then she turns and storms out of the room. Thanks to her movements that are jerky and filled with barely restrained anger, I could tell my words pained her. I watch her go. My chest is still tightening with unease. Her energy was off compared to the white lotus energy she gave off the first time I saw her. This one was prickly, volatile and I could somehow tell this feels like more than just her usual irritation. She hates me. She hates every ‘fling’ she's ever caught with Edmondo. But, in my case, her hate for me is much worse now. The door swings open, letting in a sharp gust of wind that ruffles the blank papers on the desk. From my position by the window, I catch a glimpse of her standing outside. Talking to some men
{EDMONDO'S POV}**It hasn’t even been an hour since I left. Forty minutes; at most. Barely enough time for the world to shift. But here I am, standing in the doorway, watching the scene that makes my blood boil.Cara.She’s sitting there, laughing. Not just a polite laugh. Not the kind of chuckle she offers to smooth over awkward moments. This is different. Genuine. Carefree. Her shoulders are relaxed. Her face is glowing, her laughter spilling out into the room like it belongs there.And with who?A fucking foreigner.Not just any foreigner… fucking Oliver. A man I brought here. My hitman. My dog. One of mine.My grip tightens around the gun in my hand as I watch them. He’s sitting across from her, smiling like a fool, leaning in slightly as if whatever he said was the most interesting thing in the world. And Cara...She’s letting him.The scene is very clear. But to me it doesn’t make sense. It shouldn’t be happening.She’s mine.Not in the way people are possessions; but in
{CARA'S POV}**I shut the bathroom door behind me, pressing my back against it as if the wooden frame could somehow shield me from everything outside. My hands are trembling, my chest is tight, and the tears are already welling up in my eyes. I try to swallow them back. But it’s like holding back a storm.I twist the lock until I hear the faint click, but the sound doesn’t bring the relief I hoped for. My breath hitches as I press my palm against my chest. I am willing my heart to slow down. I can’t fall apart. Not yet. Not here.My eyes flicker to the mirror, and I catch a glimpse of myself: disheveled, flushed, and broken. The person staring back at me feels like a stranger. My hair is a mess, my cheeks streaked with dried tears, and my eyes… my eyes look so empty.I look pathetic.I shove myself away from the mirror, unable to stand the sight of myself any longer. The bathroom is too small, too suffocating. The walls feel like they’re closing in, pressing down on me with every
{GIOVANNI'S POV}**“Help my sister! She's in trouble. They took her!” She is a wild bull on the loose. Even with the strength of the drug we used, coupled with her frail appearance, it wasn’t easy to get her to calm down. But the girl has a fight in her; relentless, desperate fight. She thrashes and screams, clawing at my arms as if her life depends on it.Because it does.It takes everything in me to hold her still. Her screams echo in the cold valley behind the gates of Trento, where we found her earlier. She’d been shouting, frantic, begging for someone.. anyone, to help her sister. Of course, we didn’t know her. But we couldn’t let her loose. She was too volatile, too loud. She needed to be silenced.Finally, her struggle weakens. Her movements slow, and the screaming dies in her throat. The drug takes over, and her body goes limp in my arms. Thank fuck for that.I glance at her, really seeing her now for the first time and I notice the ‘I’ carved in rose tattoo. She's a
{GIOVANNI'S POV}**“Giovanni.”It’s my father.I already feel nervous, and he’s only said my name so far. He only called when he wanted to speak to Edmondo or ask about Edmondo.“Yes, Father,” I respond.“Don’t call me that,” he barks, and I curse myself for overstepping. I always make the same fucking mistake, even though he’s made it clear he doesn’t see me as a son.Well, actually I wasn't his son. I wasn't even adopted.. that's a sweet word. I was picked up. Picked up, given the name ‘D’ Avi’ only to be an at-your-service soldier to Edmondo. A rabid dog sent out to ravage the victims only Edmondo chooses. I don’t mind this life. I love Edmondo. I wouldn't care too if Edmondo commands me to kill this innocent signorina next to me after taking her to him. I’ll only deliver the blow.Then she stirs in her unconsciousness. Her lips part with a soft pop, and I’m
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