25. Livia
Livia
The metallic click of the brass lock serves as the final, defining punctuation mark to my disastrous escape attempt.
I spend the first forty-eight hours pacing the sprawling master suite like a caged animal waiting for the inevitable executioner, bracing my nerves for the violent retaliation of a betrayed mafia boss.
It never arrives. The punishing wrath I expect is replaced by a freezing, impenetrable silence that turns the opulent bedroom into an isolation ward.
Niccolò orchestrates a bloodless cold war, enforcing a rigid boundary that effectively severs him from my daily existence.
I am treated with a level of reverence usually reserved for visiting royalty, pampered and coddled by a staff that operates under strict, terrifying directives.
Dr. Evans arrives promptly every morning with his worn leather medical bag, checking my vitals, drawing blood for routine tests, and prescribing expensive prenatal vitamins while speaking in hushed, overly respectful tones.
Marta ferries silver trays loaded with fresh fruit, expensive cuts of roasted meat, and soothing ginger tea, her previously sharp, critical demeanor is replaced by a fierce, maternal vigilance that borders on the aggressive.
When a junior maid accidentally drops a silver spoon near my armchair, creating a loud clatter against the floorboards, Marta verbally eviscerates the young girl, treating the minor noise disturbance as a physical threat to my well-being.
The entire household tiptoes around my suite, treating me as a fragile, invaluable treasure that requires constant protection.
Yesterday afternoon, I tried to breach the invisible barrier separating me from the rest of the mansion.
Marta walked in carrying a silver tray with roasted chicken and seasoned vegetables, her face arranged in an unreadable, professional mask.
I sat up against the headboard, watching her carefully arrange the crystal water pitcher on the nightstand.
"Marta," I said softly, my voice has grown raspy from disuse. "Where is Niccolò? Is he uninjured?"
The older woman paused, her hands hovering over the silver cloche.
She refused to meet my eyes, staring intently at the floral pattern of the duvet cover.
"The Don is conducting syndicate business, Miss Livia," she replied, her tone completely devoid of its usual biting sarcasm.
"He has instructed the staff to ensure your environment remains completely tranquil and untroubled by outside affairs.
Is the temperature in the suite to your liking? "
She was stonewalling me, executing a direct order to shield me from the violent realities of his life. I nodded mutely, letting her retreat into the corridor, fully grasping the agonizing extent of his command.
I watch this bizarre, meticulously orchestrated ballet from the sidelines.
They are not protecting me merely because I am the mother of the syndicate's heir, they are protecting me because the man who owns this city ordered them to lay down their lives for my comfort.
Niccolò is wrapping me in a bulletproof cocoon, yet he refuses to step foot inside the magnificent sanctuary he built for me.
I called him a monster in the pouring rain, and he absorbed that accusation right into his bones, removing his presence from my orbit to respect the boundary I screamed at his face.
He is starving himself of the one thing he claims to worship simply because he believes his proximity will poison my child.
The realization is a bitter, jagged pill that shreds my throat on the way down.
By running to protect my baby from a hypothetical future, I broke the only man who ever truly cared whether I lived or died.
My survival instincts hijacked my logic, using my childhood trauma to blind me to the reality of the man actually standing in front of me.
Niccolò doesn't use his strength to terrorize the weak like my cowardly father did, he uses his immense capacity for violence to annihilate the threats circling our perimeter.
His affection manifests in the fortified gates, the armed guards standing watch in the sleet, and the exquisite meals placed gently on my table while he battles the demons outside.
The quiet isolation is disrupted on the fifth night by the distinct, metallic rattle of the balcony doors.
I jolt upright in the center of the massive mattress, clutching the silk sheets against my collarbone as the heavy glass panel slides open.
The freezing night air rushes into the heated suite, followed immediately by Alessio.
He steps over the threshold wearing a scuffed leather jacket and a crooked, unapologetic smirk, shaking the rainwater from his hair like a stray dog invading a pristine cathedral.
"Christ, it feels like a fucking mausoleum in here," Alessio complains, tossing a damp paper bag onto the edge of the mattress before dropping his frame into the velvet armchair beside the fireplace.
"I had to scale the treacherous trellis on the west wing because my stubborn brother changed the lock combinations on your doors.
I figured you were probably losing your mind staring at the floral wallpaper, so I brought contraband. "
I stare at him in shock, my heart hammering a chaotic rhythm against my ribs as I register his casual infiltration of the most secure room in the mansion. "Alessio, if the guards catch you sneaking in here, Niccolò will probably shoot you on sight."
"He might shoot me in the leg, but he won't kill me," Alessio replies with a dismissive wave of his hand, leaning forward to pull a grease-stained carton from the brown paper bag.
"Besides, the perimeter guards are too busy scanning the tree line for Falco soldiers to look up at the second-floor balconies.
I brought you double-fudge brownies from that bakery down in the North End.
I figured the fancy organic crap Marta keeps shoving down your throat was probably making you miserable. "
The rich, sugary scent of chocolate hits my nose, causing my stomach to emit a loud, treacherous rumble that makes Alessio laugh out loud.
I push the blankets aside and slide off the mattress, padding over to the seating area to accept the peace offering.
The brownie is incredible, melting on my tongue and providing the first genuine comfort I have experienced in almost a week.
We sit in companionable quiet for several minutes while I eat, the crackle of the fireplace providing a soothing background noise to his unexpected visit.
"You look like hell, Livia," he observes bluntly, propping his boots on the edge of the stone hearth.
"And I don't mean the physical toll of making a baby.
You have massive shadows under your eyes, and you look like you are carrying the weight of the entire syndicate on your shoulders.
You really fucked him up, you know that? "
I flinch, the blunt assessment hitting the bruised, guilty hollow in my chest. "I was terrified, Alessio.
I found out I was pregnant, and my brain just short-circuited.
All I could see was the violence, the guns, the blood covering his hands when he came home from that ambush. I thought running was the only way."
Alessio nods slowly, his usual arrogant facade slipping to reveal a surprisingly perceptive intelligence.
"You judged him based on the sins of other men.
You looked at a mafia boss and assumed he operated with the same abusive, pathetic mentality as the assholes who hurt you in the past. But my brother is not carved from that kind of stone. "
"I know that now," I whisper, wiping a crumb from my lip with a trembling finger. I need to change the conversation, if not, I will start crying again. “Where is Roberto?"
A vicious, satisfied chuckle escapes Alessio’s throat as he steals a piece of brownie from the carton.
"Roberto is currently enjoying a mandatory, permanent vacation at a heavily fortified villa in Sicily.
Niccolò stripped him of all his assets, seized his bank accounts, and shipped the old bastard across the ocean before the sun even came up.
Keeping him in Boston was a death sentence for you, and keeping him in the estate meant Niccolò would eventually have to put a bullet in our father's skull to keep you safe. "
Oh.
"Roberto ruled this family through terror and humiliation," Alessio continues, his voice dropping into a serious, reflective cadence that commands my full attention.
"When we were kids, he used his fists to keep the Capos in line, and he used his belt to ensure Niccolò and I understood the hierarchy.
He was a tyrant who enjoyed inflicting pain simply because he held the power to do so.
Niccolò absorbed every single beating, standing between Roberto and me to take the brunt of the abuse, and he swore he would never replicate that madness when he took the throne. "
Alessio leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his piercing gaze locking onto mine.
"Niccolò utilizes violence as a tool, Livia, yes.
He uses it to establish boundaries, to eliminate threats, and to build a fortress around the people who rely on his strength.
He isn't a mindless thug hurting the innocent for sport.
The blood on his hands is the cost of keeping the wolves away from this door.
You are looking at the blood and ignoring the fact that he spilled it specifically so you could sleep soundly in this bed. "
My father hit my mother because the soup was cold, Niccolò cracked a guard's skull because that guard compromised the safety of the woman carrying his child.
There is a vast, unbridgeable canyon between a coward who abuses the weak and a warrior who slaughters the corrupt to protect his family.
My trauma created a false equivalence, blinding me to the beautiful, terrifying devotion fueling the man who claimed my soul.
"I want him to be the father," I confess, the admission spills from my lips with a sudden clarity. "I want my baby to have his strength, his fierce loyalty, his unyielding protection. I was so incredibly stupid, Alessio. I pushed him away when all I really wanted was for him to hold me."
Alessio smiles, a genuine, warm expression that transforms his usually sharp features.
"Then you better figure out a way to break through the concrete wall he just built around his heart, sweetheart.
Because right now, the Don is tearing this city apart hunting Falco soldiers, trying to drown his heartbreak in a river of Irish blood. "
"How do I do that?" I ask, twisting the fabric of my jeans between my fingers. "He won't even look at me. When Marta leaves the door open during the meal service, I see him walking down the corridor, and he purposefully turns his head away. He is punishing himself."
"You are the only person on this planet who holds any leverage over the man," Alessio replies, standing up and brushing the crumbs from his leather jacket.
"Use the stubborn fire that made him obsessed with you in the first place.
Demand his attention. Break the rules. Do whatever you have to do to remind him that you are the queen of this syndicate, and queens do not sit quietly in their towers waiting for the king to grant them an audience. "
He walks back toward the balcony, pausing with his hand on the glass pane to shoot me a final, encouraging wink.
"I have to get back before Enzo realizes I abandoned my post at the docks.
Lock the door behind me, Liv. And figure out a way to put my brother out of his fucking misery before he drives the rest of us completely insane. "
The glass door slides shut, cutting off the freezing wind, and I watch Alessio disappear over the edge of the stone railing with the practiced ease of a phantom.
I walk over to secure the latch, staring out into the pitch-black night where the rain continues to lash against the manicured hedges.
My mind races with a thousand different strategies, discarding each one as I search for the perfect way to breach the formidable defenses of a heartbroken mob boss.
The paralyzing fear that orchestrated my failed escape is completely gone, replaced by a fierce, undeniable maternal instinct that demands I secure a future for my child.
I do not want to hide in a dingy apartment in a nameless city, I want to raise my baby in the opulent safety of the Severato estate, surrounded by fiercely loyal men who would catch a bullet before they let harm touch my family.
I want my child to know the man who sacrificed everything to keep us safe, and I will not let my own insecurities ruin the magnificent love story unfolding in this house.
Niccolò believes he is a monster unfit for a family, but I am going to prove to him that he is exactly the kind of man I need to help me survive the chaos of this world.