Chapter 6 Serafina
SERAFINA
The moment Madre releases me, the countdown truly begins.
Before Alessio freaks out more than he already has, I need to find him. Since landing in Rome, my phone’s yet to be on, because another stream of calls and texts would prompt Zeno’s nosiness.
Thankfully, I duck out of the living room, calling back to both of them, “Friends are eager to meet up. I’ll be home for dinner.”
I make it barely three feet before Zeno hauls me back around to face him. He stares, seeing through my lies in that Capo expression I tease him for perfecting: eyes slightly narrowed as they rove, mouth in a flat line that curves into a frown every passing second.
“You have to go now? Stay home.” He glances at Madre, seeking backup. “Have a movie night or something. I’ll even stick around.”
“I told them we’d get together, and if I skip, they’ll show up here. Only for an hour, I swear.”
After another tense moment, he releases me. “Be careful. Just…keep your eyes open.”
After another wave to Madre, I escape. Once down the street and out of view, I switch my phone on, waiting for the numerous messages to flood my phone.
As they do in an ongoing vibration, a car all too familiar screeches to a stop in front of me, the passenger window rolling down seconds before my boyfriend launches himself at me.
Alessio wraps me in a hold that should soothe the past couple days away, but instead, my limbs are tense, and I find myself unable—unwilling—to hug him back.
Thankfully, he doesn’t hold me for long. He instead grasps my cheeks between his palms and brings my mouth to his, slashing an angry kiss that finally melts me a little. My body goes slack, and I kiss him back, returning to the life I know rather than the craziness of yesterday.
Eventually, his forehead drops against mine, breath warming my face. Just like that, all my worries evaporate, reminding me why I’m with him. Moments like this feel good.
“God,” he whispers, “I was so fucking worried. Don’t disappear like that again.”
“I won’t.” I pull back, scanning his car. “You drove all the way from Rome? What about classes?” Alessio’s been in university for a year, so his workload is heavier than mine.
A finger gets shoved against my lips. “Don’t worry about me. And no, I’ve been hanging around Ostia, waiting for you to get back.”
“That’s…sweet.” I think. Maybe a little weird, considering I told him the timeline of my return, so there was no point in sitting around.
He wraps his hand around mine to propel me towards the passenger door. “Let’s get out of here. I’ve missed you and want to hear all about your trip.”
Yeah, that won’t be happening. No matter how much I enjoy time with Alessio, I’ll never betray my brother, and thus the Cosa Nostra, by admitting not only their presence, but now his ties to the Bratva, possibly endangering Vanessa and her family too.
Once we’re both inside the car more expensive than I understand how he affords, he takes off. Now that he’s not freaking out, he’s the Alessio I met on campus months ago. Uncomplicated, safe, freeing. Someone I don’t burden.
All thoughts of Russia and my saviour melt away as I’m re-immersed into my life.
When I returned from my drive with Alessio, Zeno was still at the house, seated on the front step and talking on the phone. He was still there when going to bed, and the next morning, I find him seated at the kitchen table with Madre, a coffee pot resting between them.
“Still haven’t gone home?”
“Stayed the night. Sit. We need to talk.”
Wonderful. Nothing good ever comes from this.
After taking my sweet-ass time pouring cereal and milk into a bowl, my leisurely pace continues as I settle in the chair across from him. He passively watches me, building up to his speech.
“Sapienza University’s fall semester begins in a few weeks, but Madre tells me you’ve done nothing to prep for attending, other than confirming your acceptance and paying the initial fees.”
I cast our mother a dark look for ratting me out.
Not for lack of aspiration, but I presumed Zeno’s controlling nature would eventually force me to drop out, even before starting.
University was something I applied to on a whim, when my friends did—not because I didn’t want to go, but because I assumed I wouldn’t be allowed.
I still don’t know what I want to do in life, only that something requiring a science degree appeals to me.
Healthcare, perhaps, or even research. Forensics definitely holds intrigue, but that may be due to Zeno’s job and the TV shows I watch.
Still, despite claiming to be proud I’d been accepted, I haven’t given attending any effort, because nothing ever happens in my life without a million rules attached to it.
In his determination to give me a civilian life, he often forgets that being normal is the key part, so I’ve made it my mission to depict normalcy as a teenager the best I could, by agreeing to whatever social events my friends drag me to. Until Zeno gets wind of all I do…
Birthday party out of town—he, Nero, or his Captain, Elio, would have to attend.
Freedom to go out in the evening—some ungodly early curfew of nine p.m.
Needless to say, university means rules that, as an adult, I shouldn’t have to follow. Rather than fighting, I figure, skip the effort, start classes, and don’t get my hopes crushed when he inevitably changes his mind and decides it’s too dangerous or something. Especially after recent events.
“Dorms fill up quickly, but I pulled some strings with the housing board—”
Meaning he bribed them.
“—and got you a room, all on your own. It’s two rooms, technically, connected between one common area. A mini apartment, more or less.”
Excitement flares, which is immediately tapered. If his presence isn’t to convince me to drop out, there’s another reason. A reason having to do with this living situation. No point in a two-bedroom dorm when it’s only me there.
Which means…fuck. There is a catch.
“If I’m on my own, I don’t need an extra bedroom.”
Don’t say it, don’t say it. He’s gone back and forth over bodyguards following me to school until agreeing he wouldn’t. Then he changed his mind and put those two on me, which is the main reason I gave them the slip: to prove to Zeno I can, and it’s useless having strange men trail me around.
Zeno glances at Madre, who stares into her cup then down the hall, or at her grocery list magnetized to the fridge. Basically anywhere that isn’t me, confirming she’s on his side.
“A protection detail will be assigned to you.”
I drop my spoon into my bowl, imploring, “Please don’t.”
Although recent events have me chiding my own attitude; realistically, being worried about a repeat means I should shut up.
But on the flight out of Russia, Zeno mentioned the Bratva being ninety-nine percent certain Ivan Volkov escaped to Canada, that kidnapping us was only to get to Vanessa.
Now, his sights are on his son, which means we’ll be left alone.
So, no need for a personal stalker.
“It’s not a negotiation. It’s happening, no matter what you argue.” Zeno’s jaw tenses. It’s always rules with him, and when someone doesn’t listen, this is how he gets.
“You said you weren’t going to do this.”
Wouldn’t it be safer? My inner voice takes his side.
Maybe. But since I’m walking the path Zeno’s paved, another person will give up their freedom to trail me around.
It’d be much easier on everyone if I stayed home, got a job nearby or something, lived a quiet life here in Ostia to ensure I’m not a burden—again—on Zeno or anyone dragged into this scheme.
To be the normal they want for me; the kind of life I’m determined to have for them.
“Things are different.”
“Because of Vanessa’s uncle? You said so yourself, he’s gone. We’ve served our purpose.”
“I want you safe,” Madre injects. “Your brother and I have talked about this, and I agree with all his points. It’s more than the Bratva at stake.”
More than… My head whips towards Zeno. “Then what’s it about?”
If Ivan isn’t the problem, it’s worse. If Vanessa got news her uncle was coming back, then sure, I’d respect Zeno’s decision, but if it’s something else, I deserve to know.
“I can’t tell you. It’s an internal issue.”
Begrudgingly, I pick up my spoon for another bite before the cereal gets soggy and gross, though my appetite is quickly waning.
Zeno may be controlling, but he’s gone his entire life ensuring mine is typical.
Beneath the gritted teeth and firm jaw, there’s an apology lingering in his expression.
He wouldn’t do this unless absolutely necessary.
Which means there’s only one option: agreeing and continuing to appease my family.
But only once I determine what exactly this means for me.
“An old guy following me around won’t be obvious at all.” My tone is sharper than intended, but willingness doesn’t mean not pointing out the faults in his plan.
“He won’t be old,” Zeno counters, taking a sip of his coffee and probably sensing his oncoming victory.
“I agree, a bodyguard is useful only if he fits in. I’m searching for someone who’ll blend as a student.
They’ll live in the second room and attend your classes.
Arrangements have been made with the school, so they’ll understand his presence. ”
If he’s spoken to the school, this decision was made without me.
“It won’t be forever,” he continues. “Once the issue is taken care of, we’ll have him removed.”
We’ll. He’s making us into a partnership.
“What are my limits?”
He blinks. “Sorry?”
“My limits. The rules. No doubt, you’re gonna make sure this guy ensures I live a nun’s life, which isn’t happening, by the way. If you want me to have a regular one, then being normal at university is a key part.”
Another shared look, and this time, it’s Madre who speaks, stretching her hand towards mine. “Not that I want to encourage partying or anything, but he won’t stop any of that.”
Well…that’s better. Some of my anger fades, though only some. A meagre fraction. Barely any. “But he’ll follow me around.”
“Sì,” Zeno replies.
Sometimes, I dream Zeno’s father accepted me as a daughter, and Madre and I remained in the Mancini villa.
That he raised me with the ideals and rules that go along with being a Capo’s daughter—and later, a sister under Zeno’s authority.
At least then, I’d know what to expect. It would be better than this: a life that switches based on Zeno’s needs.
“Is your internal issue really that bad?” My question is a mumble that states my willingness while still searching for a way out.
“Sì.”
“And you won’t tell me what that is?”
“No.”
“Then I get to choose who it’ll be.” Who’ll be stuck with me as much as I’m stuck with him.
The words are out before I can stop them, because a specific face slips into my mind.
A person I barely know, but the only one I can envision being around so much.
Someone who already lied on my behalf. Someone who saved my life and didn’t immediately run away.
Who, for a moment, slowed everything down and made me feel safer than I’d ever been.
My brother’s brows furrow. “No, that won’t be—”
“Lev. He’s the one.”
The dip between his brows deepens. “Vanessa’s guy?”
“If you’re changing your whole let’s allow Sera to attend school without protection by giving me my own stalker, I get to pick the guy forced to live with me, follow me, spend basically every waking minute with me. I want that to be Lev.”
What am I asking for? Zeno’s going to read more into this than there is. He’ll find passages of an unwritten book simply because that’s how he is. Albeit, it’ll be a short one, since my entire reasoning is simply that Lev feels more right than any stranger Zeno pulls from his ranks.
Instantly, he shakes his head. “Impossible. I have no authority over Lev.”
“Then ask him. Or Vanessa.”
“Once again, that’s impossible. Even if they agreed, we can’t expect him to give up his life in order to live with a student.”
“Yet it’s fine for someone else?”
“Yes, because I control them. I pay them. They swore fealty to me, and that’s how this works. Lev has a job. In case you’ve forgotten, the Bratva has a problem on their hands.” He pauses, his head ticking to the side. “Why Lev?”
Figured that question would come up eventually.
“You stuck two guys on me, and I got away. If they were really good, they would have foreseen my attempt, so forgive me if I’ve lost confidence in the men you employ.
Lev saved my life. If I’m stuck with protection because of this internal issue you refuse to explain, I’d rather it be someone who cares if I live or not. ”
Zeno huffs. “That doesn’t count.”
“She makes a point,” Madre chimes. “You said you were struggling to find someone appropriate enough for the job. That the two you picked were ‘good enough’, and she still slipped their attention. If my daughter is going to have protection, I’d prefer it be someone who’ll actually protect her.”
Thank you, Madre, for taking my side.
Zeno looks like he could kill our mother—though he’d never raise a hand against her. With the new ammo, I beam as he rubs a hand over his face, sighing. “I can’t promise anything. When Vanessa tells me no, we’ll have to hire internally, but…I’ll ask.”
“If she says no, we could always forgo the security plan,” I offer, aware he won’t take my comment lightly.
Zeno scowls. “Not fuckin’ happening.”
“Then make Lev happen.”