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

21. Serafina

SERAFINA

T he room is freezing cold, its exposed brick walls and raw concrete floor slick with moisture that seeps in from somewhere. The single flickering bulb overhead swings on a cord, as the wind whistles through gaps. It's off more than it is on. I hold Leo tightly in my arms, trying to keep his little body warm against mine. His fingers cling to the fabric of my shirt, seeking comfort I can barely give. The silence is broken only by the distant sound of dripping water.

Then—footsteps.

Slow, steady, each one closer than the last. Someone is coming. My pulse quickens. Is it Alessandro? Wouldn't I have heard chaos if he'd tried to get in?

The heavy steel door groans open, and Marco steps inside with the confidence of a man who believes he holds the world in his palm. His tailored suit is immaculate, his smile smug and sharp as a blade. He surveys the room like a king inspecting his kingdom, his eyes narrowing with satisfaction as if he's gauging just how much we're suffering.

"Comfortable?" he mocks, his voice cutting through the icy silence like a blade. I straighten my back, refusing to show weakness. Leo squirms in my arms, his tiny fists clutching my shirt as he burrows into me.

I glare at Marco, my anger the only shield I have against the growing fear. "What do you want, Marco?"

He tuts, shaking his head slowly. "Is that any way to speak to your gracious host?" He takes a slow step forward, his gaze never leaving mine. "I thought we could catch up. Talk about old times."

"We are not friends," I snap, my voice steady despite the icy fear creeping through me. "We never were."

Marco's smirk widens, his expression as smug as it is sinister. "Oh, but we share so much history. Especially when it comes to your brother." His words are a deliberate stab, and the sick gleam in his eyes tells me he's savoring every second. My whole body shivers, and Leo whimpers softly in my arms. I tighten my hold on him, my protective instincts roaring to life.

Marco circles us slowly and his steps are calculated and predatory. He's not a man. He's a beast, and I'm the prey he's decided to toy with. "You've spent so many years hating Alessandro for your brother's death," he muses, his voice deceptively casual. "But did it ever occur to you that things aren't always what they seem?"

My heart stutters, the familiar ache of grief and guilt clawing at my chest. My brother died because of Alessandro—or so I've always believed. But now, Marco's words sow seeds of doubt. Alessandro swore he didn't do it. He begged me to believe him. And I didn't. I couldn't.

My breaths are shaky, my ribs aching. "What are you talking about?" I demand, my voice trembling despite my effort to stay strong. I can't let him see the cracks forming in my armor.

Marco leans closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "That explosion—the one that took your brother—it wasn't an accident. It wasn't even Alessandro's doing. No, that was all me."

The words hit me like a physical blow. For a moment, I can't breathe. My mind races, trying to process what he's just said. "You're lying," I whisper, but the doubt is already there, creeping in like a shadow.

Marco chuckles, the sound low and dark. "Oh, I wish I were. But I needed chaos, you see. A spark to ignite a war between the Carusos and the D'Angelos. Your brother was simply… collateral damage. Convenient, really."

Convenient. My brother was the glue that held our family together, the one who kept us safe. His death shattered us and left me to fend for myself, to hide and protect Leo. Marco ripped all of that away. For what? To start a war he could profit from? The sheer cruelty of it is staggering.

My hands tremble as I hold Leo closer, trying to shield him from the evil standing before us. "You killed him," I say, testing his reaction, praying this is just another one of his twisted mind games.

Marco grins, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. "And you blamed Alessandro. It was perfect."

Perfect. For years, I've carried this hatred, this blame—directed at the wrong man. Alessandro didn't leave me because he didn't care. He left because I drove him away. Because I believed Marco's lies. My heart feels like it's being ripped apart, the weight of my mistakes threatening to crush me.

I stare at Marco, my body trembling with a mix of fury and despair. "You manipulated me. You used my pain."

He shrugs, utterly unrepentant. "Pain is a powerful weapon, Serafina. It blinds people. And you, my dear, were so easy to blind."

Every moment of agony, every sleepless night, every ounce of hatred I've carried for Alessandro—it was all orchestrated by the monster standing before me. And now, he has my son.

"You won't get away with this," I hiss, my voice low and venomous.

Marco leans in close, his breath warm against my ear. "I already have."

The initial shock wears off, replaced by a violent, seething fury. He wants me to react, to go crazy and lose my shit—I won't give him what he wants. I will not rise to his bait, even if it is true. My brother is dead—that can't be changed, and if he killed him, it still doesn't bring him back. Nothing will ever bring him back.

I meet his smug gaze, my jaw clenched tight, fury burning beneath my skin. "You think that changes anything now?" I answer because my silence is making him mad. His smirk falters, just slightly, and I press on. "You think manipulating people, destroying lives, blaming others, makes you untouchable?" He has been pulling my strings for months since he first laid eyes on my son—I knew that he knew. One look and anyone who knows Alessandro would be able to tell Leo is his.

Marco's eyes narrow, and for the first time, his smugness wavers. Good. Let him feel small.

"You're just another coward," I spit. "You hide behind lies and money, and violence, too afraid to face your own failures. You can't even take the credit for the shitty things you do. At least Alessandro admits he's a fucking monster. He owns it." Each word slices through the silence like a blade, puncturing his ego.

His eyes darken. "Careful, Serafina." The warning in his tone is thinly veiled, a pathetic attempt to reclaim control.

"Or what? You'll kill me? Hurt Leo?" I stand slowly, shielding my son. My voice stays level, unwavering, despite the rage coursing through me. "You think Alessandro is coming for me. If you kill us, he won't come." I deliver the truth like a challenge, watching his expression tighten. He knows I'm right. He can't have what he wants if he destroys me—not yet anyway.

Marco steps forward, towering over me. "I hold your lives in my hands." His voice rises, sharp and forceful, but there's an undercurrent of frustration he can't hide. "I decide if you live or die. Not him."

Leo whimpers when Marco's voice booms, his little body trembling against mine. I place a reassuring hand on his back. "Not for long," I reply calmly, my voice a stark contrast to his bluster. I refuse to add to my son's distress. Leo will sense my emotions, and he needs me to be steady.

Marco's jaw tightens, his teeth grinding audibly. There it is—the crack in his armor. I've really struck a nerve. He's so egomaniacal that I've hurt his big-boy feelings.

"Enjoy your little moment while it lasts," he sneers, turning sharply on his heel.

"Did I touch a nerve?" I call after him, my voice cutting through the tense air like a whip. "Are your feelings hurt because I'm not afraid of you?" He glares at me over his shoulder, his expression murderous. If looks could kill, I'd already be buried.

The metal door slams shut, vibrating through the walls. The sound makes Leo jump.

"That uncle is mean," he says, his small voice quivering. "Not nice to be a bully."

A faint smile tugs at my lips despite the situation. "It's okay. I won't let him bully you." My voice is gentle but firm. I kiss the top of his head, rocking him slightly. "Mommy will bully him back if he tries."

The fear hasn't vanished, but it no longer controls me. Marco's big reveal has snapped the last chain of doubt from my mind. Alessandro wasn't the enemy. Marco was. He always was.

I take a shaky breath, the realization settling in. For years, I carried hatred for the wrong person. Marco's arrogance blinds him—he doesn't see that he's underestimated me. His biggest mistake.

I close my eyes briefly, ignoring the pain throbbing through my body. My eye is swollen shut, and my ribs make a snap-crackle-pop sound when I breathe in. But the physical agony pales compared to the fire blazing inside me.

Alessandro is coming. He has to come. And when he does, Marco won't know what hit him.