{EDMONDO'S POV}**I stand outside my room, fists clenched so hard my knuckles ache. Every goddamn bone in my body screams that something’s wrong. Giovanni’s not here yet. Cara’s not answering. And Donnie’s standing behind me, looking as useless as ever, fiddling with his gun like this is a goddamn picnic.“Where the fuck is Giovanni?” I snap, not bothering to turn around.Donnie, my Consigliere who had gone with me to see Giordano, clears his throat, shifting his weight like a nervous kid caught skipping class. “Uh, Giovanni’s with your father, boss. Tracking him toward the east edge. He’s taken some men.”“Of course he has.” I grind my teeth. The sharp pain anchors me as rage curls hot in my chest. My father had gone to meet Giovanni at the Trento back gate? Hmmm.. in presence of my father, Giovanni always becomes a loyal fucking mutt. I just hope he can handle my father and whatever reason made my father go to him.I bang on the door again, harder this time. My voice cut through
{CARA'S POV}**“Did you just fucking try to drown yourself?” Edmondo’s voice slices through the silence, and it's so loud right now.My breath hitches as his words sink in. But the sound of his boots hitting the floor; slow, deliberate, predatory, drowns out everything else. My back presses harder against the cool tiles, water dripping from my hair and bare skin, leaving me shivering and exposed. He’s coming closer, one step at a time. His dark eyes locks on me like a wolf cornering its prey.“Answer me.” His tone is low, calm. But it’s laced with a threat that makes my stomach knot.I force myself to look at him, even as my body screams at me to run. The man standing before me isn’t just Edmondo. He isn’t just the Don of the North, the cold, calculating bastard who tore my life apart piece by piece. This is someone else entirely.But fuck, I can’t tell if that’s better or worse.This isn’t the
{EDMONDO’S POV}**“Cover up,” I order. I’m back to being cold again. It’s for a good purpose. It’s so we both, me especially, don’t get distracted. “You’re not off the hook yet.”But her voice cuts through my coldness, raw and jagged. “And then what? Just leave?”Cara sits up on the bed, trembling, her wild eyes locking onto mine. The sight of her; the flushed face, wet hair plastered to her cheeks, and the faint tremor in her lips… it all hits me like a sledgehammer.She throws her words at me sharply and doesn’t relent. “You just walk away like it’s none of your concern? All the damn time. Like you have nothing to do with me? Like I’m nothing?”I stiffen. My jaw clenches and so does my fist.But she isn’t done.“Speak to me, Edmondo!” she shouts, her voice breaking. And then… God help me, she starts crying. Her tears fall in streams as she shakes her head. Her whole body trembles.This isn’t the
{CARA'S POV}**I can barely breathe. The air in the room feels thick and suffocating. As if every word Edmondo says is wrapping itself around my throat, choking me. I sit there on the bed, naked and exposed, though it feels like the least vulnerable part of me. His presence towers over me, dominant. My skin prickles as he steps closer, his scent; dark, masculine, blueberries and far too familiar, fills my senses.“You want the truth, Cara?” His voice is rough. Like gravel scraping against bone. His eyes lock onto mine, intense. As if he can see every piece of me I’m trying to keep hidden. “You won’t like it. Hell, I’m not even sure I can stomach saying it, but you need to hear it.”I don’t respond. I can’t. The words are stuck in my throat, tangled with the confusion and hurt that have been twisting inside me since the moment I was brought in here. He isn’t the man I thought he was.
{EDMONDO'S POV}**I look at her, Cara; her eyes are wide, intense. As if she’s waiting for the truth to break her. But the truth has always been the one thing I can’t lie about. And especially not to her.“That’s not all, Cara,” I say, my voice low and purposeful. “The same way your sister wasn’t innocent, the rest of your family wasn’t. Especially your father.”Her eyes flash with a fury that burns brighter than I expect. “You dare not talk about Papà, Edmondo. You dare not say a word about him,” she spits. Her voice trembles with anger.I move closer to her there on the bed. My own pulse is steady but I feel her anger ripple through the room like a storm. “I only dare not lie to you because I promised you the truth,” I say, keeping my tone firm. “And do not point that finger at me, Amora (love). I’ll chop it off before you ever get the chance to use it.”Her breath catches in her throat, and for a mome
{EDMONDO'S POV}**I don’t answer right away. Instead, I hold her tighter, letting the intensity of the moment pull us deeper into something neither of us can avoid. Her face is a canvas of emotions; shock, disbelief, and something else I can’t quite place. Fear, perhaps. She doesn’t say a word. But her silence screams louder than any accusation ever could. I don’t stop. She needs to hear this, no matter how much it hurts. “I couldn’t save her,” I begin, my voice calm. “Agata wasn’t just a woman. She was everything; the embodiment of ferocity in a world that feeds on corruption. Just perfect for it. And when I heard about her committing suicide, it felt like I lost the only thing that made sense in reality.” Her lips part as if to speak, but she stays silent. Her chest rises and falls with each shallow breath. I move my hand from her naked curve to her
{CARA'S POV}**Everything is starting to fall into place. The chaos in my mind is organizing itself into something coherent. It’s not even a puzzle anymore; it’s laid out before me, clear and undeniable. A platter of gold, served cold and ruthless.I think back to that day; my father’s words, his tone. He hadn’t talked about sending me abroad or finding a way for me to escape. He’d said something else, something that now feels like a confession I missed entirely.“You need to go, Cara,” he’d said.At the time, I thought he was trying to protect me. Push me away from the violence of his world. But now…now I see it differently. You need to go. It wasn’t protection. It was a deal.He wasn’t saving me. He was selling me.The realization slams into me with brutal clarity. In the mafia world, business always comes before blood. Loyalty to the cause is worth more than family. My father didn’t see
{CARA'S POV}**No wonder the bitch, Agata, always traveled, saying she was going to do Papà's bidding. She came instead to the North to fuck with Edmondo.No wonder she had me make that swimsuit for her. Even Papà was against us wearing such things that'd make us qualified as ladies. The bitch wanted Edmondo to fuck her in that attire. Or did they go on a swimming vacation?No wonder she came to me most times with shoes, make-ups, revealing clothes. It was all Edmondo gave her. She couldn't hide it because she stays with Papà in the estate so, she brought it to me, who stayed far away from them.Bitch!!!!Dead bitch!!!!Why was I angry at her though? It's not a crime to be discreet or… to fall in… wait, did she fall in love with Edmondo? Edmundo’s soften voice that sounds like twisted kind of tenderness breaks my thoughts. “He blamed me for it. But the truth, Cara... the truth is, your father ma
{EDMONDO’S POV}**The door shuts behind me with a soft click, and I finally exhale, dragging a hand through my hair. The tension of that moment still clings to me, but at least it’s over. For now. I told her the truth, or at least most of it. Fuck, I hope she doesn’t dig deeper. She’s smart, too fucking smart for her own good, and if she finds out everything before I’m ready to tell her…I shake the thought from my head as Donatello falls into step beside me. He looks at me like he’s been waiting for something. His silence grates on my nerves.“Christ, Donnie, you couldn’t have waited five goddamn minutes?” I growl, keeping my voice low but sharp.“You seemed busy,” he says without apology, his tone deadpan. “But it couldn’t wait. Your father’s back. He wants to see you.”That stops me cold. My father. That bastard. “He’s back already? What the fuck? You just brought word that he was
{EDMONDO'S POV}**My father’s eyes narrow as he leans back in his seat, the leather groaning under his weight. He adjusts his tie with slow precision, as if trying to keep the words boiling inside him from spilling out. But eventually, he let loose.“Edmondo, can you just… fuck’s sake, he’s your brother. Okay? No matter what, he’s your goddamn brother,” he snap, his voice edging with frustration.I laugh bitterly, shaking my head. “My brother? My fucking brother?” I lean forward to growl. “You fucking know what he did. Or are you going senile, old man? Giordano wouldn’t have been able to flee without me knowing… unless someone good helped him. And, hell, I can as well track him down. Let’s get that shit straight.”Father rubs his temples. He's visibly irritated. “I know you, Edmundo,” he says, his voice going softer but still carrying that weight of authority. “I gave birth to you. You’re my son. It’s my fuc
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