Chapter Twenty-Three
Sabrina
Rafael’s office is boring.
Muted browns, glass decanters no one touches and perfectly stacked papers he probably never reads. It’s a room built to control chaos, never invite it.
So, naturally, I make myself at home.
I spin slowly in his chair, back and forth, my legs kicked up on his precious desk – the same desk where I’m sure a thousand deals have been made and just as many secrets buried. Too bad none of that keeps me out.
I heard my new friends were looking for Morana, so I decided to pay them a visit. Maybe I could even deliver a little information while I was here. Because unlike them, I don’t have the luxury of pretending Sergei Volkov isn’t still a problem.
I hear them before I see them.
Heavy footsteps. Muffled conversation. Three voices – Rafael, Dante and Salvatore.
They stop the second they walk in.
I let the chair spin one final half-turn before facing them fully, my head tilted slightly beneath the mask, eyes wide with mock surprise.
“Well, well,” I say brightly. “Look who finally decided to show up.”
Rafael’s expression darkens immediately. “Morana?”
Dante is already reaching for a weapon he won’t get the chance to use. “How the hell did you get in here?”
I press a hand dramatically against my chest. “You wound me. That’s the first question?”
No one laughs, not that I expected them to.
Salvatore’s gaze narrows slightly. “Security didn’t catch you. How?”
“And better question,” Dante adds sharply, “how the hell did you even get onto the island?”
That almost makes me smile.
“Almost.”
“Oh, sweet Sal. Angry Dante,” I say, standing and pacing lazily towards them. “Do you really want the answer to those questions?”
I tilt my head.
“Because the truth is, I could’ve been anyone. I could’ve been standing among your people without any of you noticing. Hell, I could’ve been beside you for an hour, and you still wouldn’t have realised I was there.”
Rafael’s jaw tightens.
“As for the island?” I continue casually. “If I can get into the most protected island in the world without any of you noticing, maybe your security isn’t nearly as impressive as you think it is.”
That lands exactly how I want it to.
“Relax. I’m not here to kill anyone,” I add with a shrug. “I just thought I’d check in. See how everyone’s recovering after dinner.”
The tension shifts instantly as my thoughts return to Sabrina – the girl who nearly tore Elias apart for making Dario feel small, who stood there shaking with rage while defending a four-year-old as though the entire world depended on it. And honestly, maybe it does.
Rafael speaks carefully. “How do you know about that?”
I blink slowly behind the mask. “You really think you can keep anything from me?”
No one answers.
“She’s strong,” I say after a moment, quieter this time. “Too strong. She’s been surviving for so long...” My voice catches for the briefest second before I force it steady. “She forgot what living is supposed to feel like.”
I lean back against the desk and cross my arms. “You finally got her back. Good. Just don’t confuse getting her back with saving her.”
My voice hardens. “She’s not sugar. She’s gasoline, and someone lit the match a long time ago.”
Dante steps forward slightly, already defensive. “What exactly is your point?”
“My point,” I snap, “is that while you’re all trying to heal what’s been broken, Sergei Volkov is still out there breathing.”
The room stills at the mention of his name.
“You don’t get to forget him just because you finally got her back,” I continue. “He doesn’t forgive. He doesn’t let go. And he sure as hell doesn’t lose quietly.”
The words leave a bitter taste in my mouth.
“And speaking of Sergei, that’s actually why I’m here.”
I straighten. “I have information. Important enough that this conversation can’t stay in this room.”
Salvatore’s expression hardens slightly. “What kind of information?”
“The kind that concerns every mafia family on this island.”
A pause follows as they exchange glances.
Then I continue.
“You need to arrange a meeting. All of them. Italians, Greeks, Spanish, French, Mexicans, Irish. Everyone.”
Rafael studies me carefully. “And why exactly should we trust you?”
I laugh softly.
“You shouldn’t. Trust gets people killed.”
My expression cools beneath the mask.
“But if you ignore me, people die anyway.”
That shuts him up.
I push away from the desk and walk towards the window, my footsteps echoing softly across the wooden floor. Just before I leave, I glance back towards Rafael one last time.
“She survived hell to keep that boy alive,” I say quietly.
For the first time since walking into the room, the words don’t come easily.
“But she’s not safe yet.”
A beat passes.
“And neither are you.”
Then I disappear the same way I came.
No sound. No trace. No permission.
Because I don’t need an invitation to walk into their world. I just need a reason to fight.
And I already have one.