Chapter 15
Damiano
I lean my forehead against the cool wood of the bathroom door. I take a breath and let the silence and the smell of floral soap clear my head. The raw need to finish what we started in that tub burns beneath my skin.
I need to get my shit together.
I pull myself straight, forcing my lust down. I go to my closet and exchange my soaked shirt and pants for a new pair.
When I open the bedroom door, Lorenzo is standing there, a knowing look etched on his face. Gio stands a respectful distance behind him, both their eyes narrowing at me.
“Your friends are waiting downstairs,” Lorenzo says in Sicilian. His eyes flicker toward the bathroom door, and his frown deepens until a smirk tugs on his lips.
“Control yourself, will you?” he says.
I ignore him and shrug into my jacket.
“She was covered in filth and blood. I wasn’t gonna leave her alone to tend to herself.” I say before turning to Gio.
“You’re staying outside this door. No one enters without my permission. Not even that bodyguard of hers.” He gives me a curt nod, not bothering to hide the smile on his face.
Lorenzo watches me carefully.
“Why was she running away?” He asks.
“She found out who I really am.”
“You didn’t tell her before you took her here?!” He exclaimed.
“She was passed out the whole time.”
Lorenzo stares at me, eyebrows raised so high they practically disappear into his hairline. “Unbelievable,” he says, shaking his head like he can’t decide if I’m a genius or an idiot.
“I hope you have a good explanation for this, fratellino. You and your idiot friends better not be planning on starting trouble.” He warns.
“Of course.” I grin.
Our father has long left Lorenzo to deal with me. I was always headstrong, and my father never knew how to control me. He thinks my mother spoiled me too much. As a result, it was always Lorenzo who “cleans up my mess” when I “get into trouble”. Not that it's true, he’s just exaggerating.
In the lavish living room, I find Andreas Moretti and Lucian Soleri, the two most chaotic heirs of the La Famiglia—my best friends.
As my closest allies, we are a destructive force honed by our titles and rigorous training, guaranteed to cause trouble wherever we go.
Together, we are a headache Lorenzo barely tolerates.
Andreas, looking like he stepped off a runway in Milan fashion week, sits on a velvet sofa, his long legs crossed, a glass of vodka in his hand.
A choice of drink his Russian bloodline demands from him.
Lucian stands by the fireplace, his posture coiled and ready like he has too much energy he can’t contain.
“Ah, the prodigal son returns,” Lucian says in Sicilian, his grin wide as he opens his arms to give me a brotherly hug. The waves of his jet black hair are long enough to touch his shoulders now, but his brown eyes are still full of mischief.
“Miss me?” I tease, grinning at the men I consider my chosen brothers.
“Certamente! This place has been a tomb, mè frati. How could you abandon us like that?” Lucian adds, his smile flashing his famous tooth gap.
“Is la calamità as beautiful as the legend suggests?” Andreas purrs, sipping his vodka.
“She’s off limits.” I flatly warn.
“Now would you look at that? I thought I’d never see the day you lock in on one woman.” Andreas laughs as he rises and pulls me in for a hug and puts a kiss on each of my cheeks. He smiles like the Cheshire cat, his blue eyes the color of ice.
I ignore their teasing and take a bottle of whiskey from the bar cart to pour myself a drink before joining them on the sofa. Lucian follows and takes his seat beside me while Lorenzo takes the armchair beside Andreas.
“What do you have?” I ask Andreas, and as if summoned by his mind, he nods, and my phone buzzes from a data dump. I open it and read.
Katarina Flores (DOB: Feb 20, 1998)
Mateo Flores (DOB: Jan 6, 1992)
Summary:
Verifiable history in Buenos Aires dates back to 2006. All official records, passports, and financial logs were created five years ago. No records, no traceable addresses, nor familial ties outside of Argentina. Adoption records are missing.
I freeze. This doesn't make any sense at all.
“Care to tell me why you have a ghost in your house?” Andreas' voice breaks the silence.
My jaw tightens. Why are the records fabricated?
These records are fake, sloppily done, with details that don’t match.
They’ve both insisted they’ve spent the last twenty years in Argentina, but this paperwork tells a different story.
If there were real birth certificates in Spain, Andreas would have found them by now.
Instead, all we’re left with are these forgeries and a knot of questions that keeps tightening.
As I read, their voices blur into background noise, the opulent room fading until I’m left alone with doubts about her.
What have you done, Mateo?
Lucian goes instantly still, his grin dropping to reveal genuine, dangerous interest as he reads the file himself.
“They have lived in Argentina for years, but their documented identities were fabricated five years ago. None of it looks real. Completely clean slate, top to bottom. Someone is trying to hide something.” Andreas expounds.
I finish the whiskey in my hand, the dark liquid doing nothing to cool the sudden chaos in my mind.
“This isn’t a coincidence. Either her brother is protecting something, or he’s deliberately derailing trails.” Lorenzo says, stating the obvious.
“Does your girl know about this?” Lucian starts pacing the room, his excitement starting to take over, already amped up for violence.
"She's completely innocent in this," I confessed, flopping back onto the sofa and rubbing my eyes with my palm heel before staring at the ceiling. "She didn't even know my true identity until a few days ago."
“So you kidnapped her?” Andreas bursts out laughing, and I glare at him.
With a flicker of genuine, chaotic excitement in his eyes, he says, "Don’t worry, I'll dig deeper. Every hidden thread, I'll unravel it. This is precisely the kind of excitement I needed."
Lucian plops beside me and puts his arms around my shoulder before saying, "And when we figure out why Nicolo wants her, we go to war!
This placid existence was starting to make me soft.
I've been itching for this." He rubs his palms together before standing up to fetch himself a bottle of rum from the bar cart.
Lorenzo shakes his head before saying, “You will do no such thing. You cannot simply wage a war with Gudicelli without any evidence that he has done anything to break the rules. If anything, if he paid those men for Katarina, you have meddled in his business and broken the rules.”
My eyes are fixed on him as he continues, “She is a loose end in a war Nicolo hasn't declared yet.” I clench my teeth, trying to control my anger.
“She’s going to stay under my care. If Nicolo wants something I have, I cannot wait for him to dare take it.” I seethe, shooting a death stare in his direction.
“I guess the game is officially on.” Andreas raises his tumbler once more for a toast. Lorenzo looks at me stoically, and Lucian punches the air with excitement.
“Start with this one. Get me this man. He ordered the kidnapping of Katarina, which led to Mateo’s death. Try to see if you can get information from him.” I said before sending Alfonso Cruz’s file to Lucian’s phone.
“Give me two days.” Lucian winks at me as he taps the screen of his phone.
“And Nicolo?” Andreas asks after a beat.
“I’ll deal with him for now,” I say, and he nods, the dangerous look in his eyes tells me he knows I’m already planning Nicolo’s demise.