Mafia Heir’s Broken Vows (Rosewood Hall Broken Vows)

15. Serafina

SERAFINA

I slip out of the bed, carefully escaping Alessandro's grip on me, without waking him. I need to get away from him, to think, to breathe. To process all the things, we said—and the way I felt when he was making love to me. I can't do that so close to him; my stupid brain can't focus when he is touching me.

The cool evening air stings my skin as I step onto the terrace, the distant glow of the city barely visible. I wrap my arms around myself, hoping the chill might numb the pain inside me.

The security detail is nowhere in sight. Alessandro's guards are supposed to patrol this perimeter, but tonight, it feels as exposed as an open wound. A flicker of unease churns in my stomach. Did they slack off? Or is this something worse?

Leo is fast asleep, his small body curled against the plush pillows upstairs. For a moment, I let myself believe we're safe—that Alessandro's fortress can hold back the monsters clawing at our door. That the way we were tonight is how it could be forever—but I'm not a fool. That's not how things work. They'll make him choose, and no matter what choice he makes we all lose.

"Trouble sleeping, Serafina?"

The voice cuts through the quiet, sharp and venomous. I can't see, it's dark out here. It's not Alessandro, I left him fast asleep in bed, and I know his voice too well.

I freeze, every muscle in my body locking into place. Slowly, I turn.

Marco Romano emerges from the shadows beyond the wrought-iron balustrade, leaning casually against a sleek black car. He's parked right there at our front door like he owns the place. The dim glow from the headlights casts angular shadows across his sharp features. He looks out of place in this suburban stillness—like a viper lounging in a flower garden.

"How did you get past security?" I demand, my voice steadier than I feel.

His smirk is slow, deliberate. "Security is only as good as the loyalty it's built on."

My blood runs cold. Someone let him in. Someone inside Alessandro's carefully crafted circle betrayed him.

"What are you doing here?" I demand again, though my voice is barely more than a breath. I don't want to wake Leo or his father. Where the fuck is security? Why aren't they here, how did he get this close?

His smirk is slow, deliberate. "Is that any way to greet an old friend?" He's delusional, completely whacked on his little power trip. He has to be crazy coming in here like this.

"We were never friends." I remind him.

He chuckles, low and cold. "Fair enough. But I think we have something in common now. Something—delicate."

My stomach rolls, and swallow the urge to hurl.

"What do you want, Marco?"

He takes a slow, menacing step forward. "To make you an offer. One I suggest you consider very carefully." His offers always come with a catch, and no exit clause. I'm not stupid enough to accept whatever he's trying to pedal.

Marco comes closer to me, his movements slow, predatory. There is no weapon in his hands—he doesn't need one. His presence alone feels like a blade pressed against my throat. He is deadly with or without a gun, he could kill me in silence, no one would ever know.

"Don't play dumb anymore, Serafina," he says, voice soft and laced with mockery. "I know Leo is Alessandro's son. It’s so fucking obvious."

The world tilts on its axis.

I can't breathe, my heart slamming against my ribs. "Stay away from him." I seethe under my breath. He better not touch my son. I do not care about their stupid vendetta. That little boy is innocent.

Marco's smirk deepens. "That depends entirely on you."

I swallow hard. "What do you want?" I ask again.

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 back into 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.