Page 28 of Mafia Heir's Broken Vows

He leans in, so close I can smell the faint scent of his shitty sour cologne—expensive, suffocating.

"Leave Alessandro. Walk away and take Leo far from here. Disappear. Let him marry Isabella. If you don't—" He pauses, savoring the moment. "I'll make sure your son grows up without a mother." He's part of whatever plan Alessandro's father has, whether they know it or not.

"You wouldn't dare." My voice shakes.

"Or a father, even. Two birds, and all that—" Marco's eyes glint with cold amusement. "You're smarter than him, Serafina. You know exactly what I'm capable of." I do, all too well. He isn't bluffing. He never makes idle threats, if Marco says he will do something—he does it.

"You have one chance to save him. Don't waste it." He says. "You and that boy are in my way. I have big plans for Alessandro and his new fiancée." Isabella's brother is his friend and close ally. Her father might be on Alessandro's side—but the rest of them are plotting to take him down from the inside out.

Marco disappears backinto his car and drives off silently. His electric car doesn't make a noise—that's why no one heard him come or go. The silence is chilling, a cruel reminder of how easily he slipped through Alessandro's fortress.

I heard his threat. It echoes in my mind, twisting like a blade. I know what the only thing to do is, but I'm not sure I can do it. My legs feel like lead, but I force them to move. I stumble back inside, locking the door behind me. My fingers fumble with the lock, trembling as if they belong to someone else. The click of the lock does nothing to make me feel safe; he got that close—he could get inside if he really wanted to.

I take the stairs two at a time, nearly tripping in my haste. I burst into Leo's room, heart in my throat. My gaze darts around, checking every corner, every shadow as if Marco might be lurking in the darkness. But Leo is asleep peacefully, clutching his stuffed lion, his small chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Innocent. Unaware. No one has hurt him.

I drop to my knees beside his bed, trembling fingers brushing through his soft curls. The weight of everything crashes down on me—Marco's threats, Alessandro's war, the danger that never seems to end. Leo doesn't deserve this.

"I won't let him hurt you," I whisper, my voice breaking. My words are a vow, even if they feel fragile in the face of someone like Marco.

But how can I keep that promise? The question claws at me, threatening to unravel what little resolve I have left. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and get up, forcing air into my lungs. Taking slow deep breaths, I can't fall apart. Not now. Not when he needs me to be strong.

Downstairs,Alessandro isn't in his room. The house feels too quiet, every creak of the floorboards amplifying the storm raging inside me. When I look around, I find him pacing in the study, his phone pressed to his ear, barking commands in a clipped tone. He's tightening security, preparing for a war he doesn't fully understand. The devil was just on our doorstep, and he didn't even know.

He turns as I enter, his sharp eyes narrowing as they land on me. "Where were you? You're pale—and crying. What happened?"

I hesitate, my tongue-tied, unable to say anything. The weight of Marco's threat presses against my chest, threatening to break me.

"Nothing," I manage to say, my voice weak and unconvincing. "I just needed some air." I sniff, struggling to hold back the tears that threaten to spill over.

His gaze sharpens. "Don't lie to me." His voice is low, and dangerous, cutting through the space between us. He knows when I lie. He always knows.

If I tell him, he'll go after Marco. And Marco will retaliate. Fast, and without mercy. I can't risk Leo's life. The choice is clear, as much as it kills me.

"I'm fine," I whisper, hating myself for it. The lie tastes bitter, but I swallow it down.

Alessandro watches me for a long, tense moment, his piercing eyes searching mine. I see the flicker of doubt and suspicion, but he doesn't push. Not yet. Finally, he turns away, resuming his call. His deep voice fills the room, commanding and relentless, but my mind is somewhere else entirely.

The suspicion in his eyes lingers. It burns, like a brand, and I know he won't let this go forever. I stand frozen, feeling the walls of this house close in. The fortress Alessandro has built to protect us now feels like a cage.

ALESSANDRO

Istand on the balcony, leaning against the cold metal railing, staring at the distant glow of the city beyond the estate walls. The hum of traffic is nothing more than a whisper out here—isolated, distant—like the woman behind me.

I sense Serafina before I hear her. Her presence is different now—tense, guarded. Her footsteps are soft on the stone floor, but the energy she brings feels colder than the night itself. She's pushed me away, shut me out—and I can't seem to find a way back in.

"You're avoiding me," I say quietly, not turning to face her. I told her exactly how I feel; she knows the position my father has put me in—but she has shut down. I have no idea how she feels, or if she can forgive me for what has to be done.

"I needed space," she replies, her voice barely above a whisper. It lacks the fire I know. She sounds distant and disconnected. Her fight is gone, the spark extinguished—I have killed her flames.

I slowly turn, studying her. She stands a few feet away, arms wrapped tightly around herself—not from the cold, but fromwhatever is gnawing at her from the inside. Her eyes won't meet mine.

"Space from me, or from the truth?"

"They're the same thing—both are ugly and hard to accept." She lashes out at me, with anger.

Her shoulders stiffen. A reaction, small but telling. I walk so that I am standing right in front of her, where she can't hide her face from me.

"What are you not telling me, Serafina?" I ask her.

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