Chapter 4 – Almeria
There are moments that mark you.
Moments when the world you so carefully built is torn apart in the space of a heartbeat.
For me, it happens on a Tuesday.
A normal Tuesday.
Until it isn’t.
The shop smells like lavender and mint. The bell above the door chimes as the last customer leaves, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Luca is in his regular spot, reading on the couch, a plate of cookies beside him, crumbs sprinkled across his knees. He’s reading out loud, tapping his fingers against the pages as he tries to get the pronunciations correctly. I help out when I can, my heart giddy that his reading has improved.
Wiping down the counter, I check the time on my wristwatch. Almost ten. Too late for comfort.
I should have closed earlier. But my customer was running late and I couldn’t disappoint her by not having her pick up her floral order tonight for her wedding tomorrow.
I glance toward the windows. Darkness presses against the glass, the street outside nearly deserted. But something feels... off.
A shiver slides down my spine.
I head to the door and turn the lock. Flip the sign.
Everything goes downhill as soon as that sign is flipped.
Glass shattering.
Luca starts to scream hysterically.
I race to the couch, heart slamming against my ribs.
Two men. Masks. Black clothes. One of them has Luca. The other turns toward me, lifting something heavy—a bat?
I don’t think.
I act.
I grab the closest thing—a ceramic vase—and smash it against the man’s arm. He yells, staggers back. The other man jerks Luca behind him.
"Let him go!"
I scream it. Beg it. Demand it.
He doesn’t listen.
I lunge.
My hands claw at his arms. I bite. I kick. I fight like a woman with nothing left to lose.
But I’m not strong enough.
He shoves me hard. I hit the ground. Pain explodes in my shoulder.
"Mom!" Luca cries, struggling against his captor.
They start toward the back door.
I crawl, dragging myself after them, blood in my mouth, terror in my chest.
Then—
Gunfire.
Shouting.
More men flood the shop, dressed in black and armed.
I don’t need to ask to know who they are when one of them fires a shot at the man who just shoved me to the ground.
Gaspare’s men.
One of the masked attackers drops instantly. The other tries to run. He doesn’t make it far. Two of the guards tackle him, wrestle Luca free.
Luca runs to me, crying, throwing his arms around my neck.
I hold him. Rock him. Whisper his name over and over.
Everything else is noise.
Gaspare arrives less than five minutes later.
His expression is carved from granite. He moves like a weapon, fast and quiet and dangerous.
He sees Luca in my arms, sees the blood on my face, and something dark flashes across his eyes.
He turns to the nearest man. "Status?"
"One captured. One dead. Kid’s safe."
Gaspare nods once.
Then he kneels beside me.
“Are you hurt?”
His voice is low. Controlled. But the fury beneath it simmers like lava.
“I’m fine.”
It’s a lie. My whole body aches. But I won’t show weakness.
Not in front of him.
He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
I flinch and he draws his hand back.
Luca trembles in my arms.
“They were going to take him,” I whisper.
Gaspare’s jaw clenches. “Good thing my men got here in time then.”
He stands, barking orders. The men move fast, efficient. The injured attacker is dragged away. The dead one zipped into a body bag.
It all happens so fast.
Too fast.
When the dust settles, Gaspare sits across from me on the floor.
“This was a message,” he says. “Someone wants to scare you. Scare me. Remind us what happens when we step out of line.”
“Who?”
His eyes darken. “I can’t say for now. But it’s definitely someone with resources. Someone who doesn’t care who gets caught in the crossfire.”
I hold Luca tighter.
“We need to move you. Tonight. Somewhere safer.”
I don’t want to agree.
But I nod.
Because I don’t have a choice.
Gaspare takes us to a house outside the city. It’s huge. Cold. Impossibly clean. A mansion with high walls and guards at every entrance.
Despite the large bed, Luca and I are huddled in a corner of it, holding on to each other. Neither of us get much sleep that night. Him, because he keeps waking up from the nightmares those monsters are making him have now. And me, because I still don’t trust Gaspare enough to let my guard down in a building that belongs to him.
I watch the shadows crawl across the ceiling. Every creak of the house makes my skin crawl.
The fear hasn’t left me.
It’s just waiting.
In the morning, Gaspare finds me in the kitchen.
He’s already dressed. Crisp. Alert.
I look like hell.
“We need to talk,” he says.
I nod.
We sit at the long dining table. The guards give us space.
He watches me for a long moment. Then:
“They’ll try again. That wasn’t a real attempt. It was a test.”
“A test?”
“To see how fast I react. How much you matter to me.”
I look away. “I don’t want to matter to you.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that you do.”
The silence stretches.
“I’m offering full protection,” he says. “A permanent detail. Safe house. Armed security."
“And what do you want in return?”
His jaw tightens. “A marriage.”
I laugh. A hollow, broken sound.
“You’ve got to be joking.”
“I’m not. It would secure your safety. Make you untouchable...”
“You’re listing all these like you’re doing it for my safety,” I cut in. “I’m not a fool, Gaspare. At least not anymore. And I know there’s something else you’re not saying.”
“What are you asking?”
“Why are you doing all these? What does my protection have to offer you apart from rid you of the guilt you claim to have been carrying for years?”
He remains quiet for a while. A few minutes really, but it feels so much longer to me that I start to dread the answer before he opens his mouth again.
“I want to protect you, Almeria,” he begins. “You have more pros in this than I do. The people who are hunting you – I have my guesses. If they are who I think they are, and I capture them, I get a promotion in rank, yes, but...”
“Of course,” I scoff and let out a little chuckle. “Why did I even ask? I could have guessed that answer. It always comes back to power with you. Always a deal, always leverage. You think I’m just going to throw my son into the fire because you want another rung on your empire ladder?"
He doesn't flinch. But I see the flicker in his eyes.
"It’s not like that."
"Isn't it?" I rise from the table, my voice shaking. "Luca cried in his sleep the entire night. He kept waking up from one nightmare after the other. Guess what he mumbled in his sleep. Questions, asking if the bad men were coming back and if I’d let them take him. I had to hold him until dawn and pretend the world wasn’t crumbling around us."
I face him fully now, my hands trembling.
"He’s seven. Seven. And already, he’s seen more fear in a single night than most kids see in a lifetime. You think I’ll let that become normal for him? That I’ll let your world swallow him whole because you showed up with a security team and a ring?"
Gaspare is silent.
"I will burn the world to the ground before I let what happened last night become part of his everyday reality. Do you hear me? I will rip apart every wall you build around us before I let him wake up in a world where men with guns are the answer to safety."
He looks at me, and for once, he doesn’t look powerful. He looks like a man trying to hold something fragile with bloodstained hands.
"Is this you refusing my protection?" he asks quietly.
I swallow the lump in my throat.
"I want safety. Real safety. Not one that invades my privacy or comes with conditions and terms that I’d rather have a knife to my throat than adhere to.”
He nods slowly.
His voice is rough. "Agreed. But Almeria, I can’t protect you if I don’t invade your privacy. If the attack had happened anywhere else but your shop or your house, Luca might not be here right now.”
I close my eyes for a long breath. “Don’t voice that last sentence out ever again.”
“But you know it’s the truth,” he insists. “Think this over. I don’t guarantee you have much time. We need to move fast. But whatever your decision, I’ll work with that. I just hope you make the best one for not just you, but Luca too.”
And with that, he leaves, leaving me in the kitchen with my confused and muddled thoughts.