Chapter Sixteen
Sabrina
It's been a full week since we got to the island.
It still doesn't feel real when I think about it for too long, so I don't. I just move through each day, taking in what I need to and ignoring the rest.
Matteo and Luca were the first to drag Dario and me shopping. Apparently, everything we owned wasn't “good enough” or “suitable,” which, technically, they weren't wrong about. I didn't argue, but the entire thing turned into chaos the moment Dario realised he could ask for whatever he wanted.
Clothes were easy. Room stuff was manageable.
Toys were a disaster.
Dario walked through every aisle like he was on a mission, pointing at things, picking them up, changing his mind, then going back for the first thing he'd chosen.
It was a cycle that never seemed to end.
By the time we were finished, Matteo looked like he regretted every life choice that had led him there, while Luca simply stood back and encouraged Dario for his own entertainment.
Now those toys are scattered across my bedroom floor like a minefield. I nearly stepped on one this morning and almost broke my neck.
I didn't mind.
Every toy lying across that floor is another reminder that Dario finally has the childhood he deserved. The one he should have had from the beginning.
A couple of days later, Carlo and Leonardo barged into my room while I was taking a much-needed nap. I'd just survived a full-blown battle on the living-room floor with an energised four-year-old, and I was seconds away from finally passing out when they decided that wasn't happening.
Apparently, it was time to show me the island.
I'd already seen parts of it during the drive to the estate when we first arrived, but they wanted to show me everything. And by everything, they meant everything.
That included the Fight Club.
I'd heard of it before. In the underground, it isn't exactly a secret.
It's just not something you talk about unless you know who you're talking to.
It's where people gather, where money moves fast and loyalty moves faster.
Fights, bets, power plays – a place where reputations are made or destroyed.
There weren't any fights happening when we arrived. It was still daytime, and the real fights didn't start until nightfall, when the stakes were higher, the crowds were louder and people left with more bruises.
I already knew Leonardo was Blaze, but he had no idea I knew. He still doesn't. So when he told me a while after we entered the building, I acted surprised, shocked even.
He bought it.
For a while, they tried to ask me questions. About how much I knew. About the mafia. About the underground.
I ignored every single one.
At first, I thought they'd never get the hint. They kept trying, slipping questions into conversations as though I wouldn't notice. But after two hours of getting nothing out of me, they finally gave up.
Smart of them.
The less they know, the better.
After that, they took me to the school – the place I'm supposed to attend.
From the outside, it looks normal. Clean. Structured. Almost exactly like the school I went to back in L.A.
But it's not normal.
Not even close.
There's only one school on the island, and everyone attends it. Every family. Every heir.
Everyone is sent there to be trained by the best of the best.
Families don't send their children there simply for an education. They send them for preparation: strength, control, discipline and everything you need to survive in this world, but more importantly, everything you need to lead in it.
It's also where alliances are built. Where families observe one another and where power shifts quietly, without anyone ever having to say it aloud.
Dante was trained there to take over as Don after Rafael. Salvatore was trained to become second-in-command when Dante eventually stepped up, while Enzo was trained as a doctor.
Everyone has a role.
That place makes sure they're ready for it.
The days are loud. There's always someone around – checking in, dragging me somewhere or refusing to leave me alone. It's strange. I've spent so long surviving on my own that I'm still learning how to exist around people who expect me to stay.
Every night, when everything finally quiets down, I sit by the window or on the edge of my bed with my phone in my hand and call Asher, Mario and Lillian. They're still back in L.A., finishing what needs to be finished before they come here.
Meanwhile, as strange as this place still feels, routines are beginning to settle.
Dario laughs more than he ever used to.
The house doesn't feel quite so unfamiliar anymore. Not like it did that first night.
I almost let myself believe things are finally starting to calm down.
Almost.
The Irish have made a peace alliance with the other families on the island.
The Russians, on the other hand, have been getting too comfortable. Too cocky. Acting like they can do whatever they want without consequences.
A couple of months ago, word started spreading.
Sergei Volkov is back.
After I killed Ivan Volkov as Morana, his son disappeared. Completely. Like he'd never existed.
Gone without a trace.
But now he's back.
And he wants revenge.
He's been moving quietly these past few months. Careful. Calculated. He thinks no one knows he came out of hiding.
He's wrong.
What he doesn't know is that I have people inside the Bratva. People close to his circle. Close enough to give me everything I need, but far enough away that he won't suspect a thing.
Because of that, I was able to make a move.
I put the six mafias on the island on his radar, and they allied.
The Italians. The Spanish. The Greeks. The French. The Mexicans. The Irish.
All of them are working together.
This place.
This family.
This life.
It was already complicated.
Now it's about to get a whole lot worse.