Page 37 of Mafia Heir's Broken Vows

You're doing this because it's easier than fighting for us.

She was right.

I convinced myself I was protecting them, but the truth is, I was running. Running from the ghosts of my past, from the blood on my hands. From standing up to my family—standingup for myself. I was afraid, just like she said. A coward, wrapped in layers of power and bravado. But when it matters, I failed her.

The cost of all the lives I've taken, the deals I've made, the enemies I've created—it all comes back on me now. This is my karma. I am paying the ultimate price for the things I have done.

A bitter laugh escapes my throat, rough and broken. What a fool I've been, thinking I could outrun the man I was born to be. Thinking I could protect them from a world that I helped create.

I believed I could have it all—I should have known better than that. The sins of the father… I didn't want my son to pay the price. Now he's in the hands of a ruthless enemy.

My mind drifts back to the explosion that killed Serafina's brother. The heat of the flames, the screams, the suffocating smoke—I wasn't fast enough then. I wasn't strong enough. I couldn't save my best friend. He died. He died angry at me because I was involved with his sister. He said I was ruining her life—and I have done just that.

He knew what would happen, that being with me would put her in danger. I lost him, and I promised that I'd keep her safe. And now—I broke that vow, to him and myself. I couldn't help that I loved her then, and now, I love her even more. A weakness my enemies will exploit. He was my best friend. I betrayed his trust. I got him killed—nothing will ever set that right.

I feel it rising—theicy panic, the crushing weight of guilt and fear.

Gunfire echoes in my ears, though I know it's not real. The phantom scent of smoke and blood fills my lungs. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to force it away. The nightmares have beengone for years, the flashbacks and the guilt had subsided. Now they're paralyzing me.

The ghosts of my past have me in their grip, and they're not going to let me go.

I drop to my knees, my palms pressed to the cold marble floor. My breath is ragged and uneven. My heart is beating so fast that it feels like it might burst.

Breathe. Just breathe.

But I can't. Not when the images of Serafina and Leo flash through my mind like a horror movie on repeat—their fear, their helplessness. I put them there.

I slam my fist into the floor, pain radiating up my arm, bringing me back to reality. Pausing the past and reminding me of the present. Slowly, I lift my head, dragging in a deep breath.

Marco wants me broken. He wants me paralyzed by my past. I'm giving him exactly what he wants. But I won't let him win. Not this time. I went down for him once before—even if I couldn't prove it was him, I know it was.

I getup off the floor. It's okay to stumble, to fall—but men like me can't stay down.

I cross to the cabinet, pulling open the drawer to take out my gun. Its weight is a comfort, solid in my hand. I check the magazine—full. I slide it into place with a sharp click. Taking extra ammunition in my inside pocket, I holster the gun.

"No more running," I whisper to myself. Well, I'm about to run headfirst into danger—like a lovesick fool.

I grab my phone, the screen fractured but voice call is still usable. "Dial Enzo."

"Do you want to call Enzo?" The robotic voice replies.

"Yes," I growl, annoyed it's taking so long. Not even the robot-woman in my phone will do as she's told.

"Calling Enzo, mobile." I wait for the call to connect.

He answers on the first ring. "Boss?"

"I need everyone. Now. We're going after Marco," I say with no hesitation.

There's a silent pause.

"Alessandro—" He's about to protest and tell me this is dangerous. But going alone like Marco wants me to would be even more dangerous. I'm not a stupid man. I can be irrational and impulsive—but never stupid enough to walk into the snake pit alone like a lost mouse.

"Now."

I end the call and holster a second gun. I might need it. Marco took my family. This time, I will end him. He took my best friend, and I let it slide—this time he's gone too far. Nothing—not guilt, not fear—will stop me.

My phone buzzes with texts I can't read.

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