Chapter Fourteen
Adriana
I step into my childhood home, the heavy oak door creaking shut behind me. The familiar scent of lemon polish and lavender hits me.
“Hey, it is me,” I called as I take off my shoes.
“Adriana?” My mother’s voice carries from the kitchen, surprise evident in her tone. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
I round the corner to find her, hands coated in flour, a half-formed loaf of bread on the counter. Her eyes dart nervously to the hallway before settling on me.
“Hey, Mom. I just came to grab my old sketchpad. I forgot to pack it when I moved out.”
She nods, wiping her hands on her apron. “Of course, dear. It should be in your old room.”
I lean against the counter, studying her. Her fingers twitch, leaving floury smudges on the pristine marble. “I wanted to ask about your birthday coming up. Any plans?”
“Oh, yes,” she says, a bit too brightly. “Just a small gathering. Family, close friends. Nothing extravagant.”
I frown. Mom’s never been one for “small” anything. “Sounds nice. Is Papa around? I thought I’d say hi while I’m here.”
Her smile falters for a split second. “He stepped out for a bit. Some business to attend to.”
My stomach twists. Dad’s “business” has only ever brought trouble.
“I see,” I reply, drawing a pattern in the flour dusting the counter. “Well, I’ll just grab my sketchpad and-”
A loud buzz cuts through the air. Mom jumps, snatching her phone from her pocket. “I’m sorry, honey. I have to take this. Make yourself at home.”
She hurries from the kitchen, phone pressed to her ear. I wait until her hushed voice fades before heading to my old room.
The door opens with a soft click, revealing a space frozen in time. Posters of my favorite manga and comic characters still adorn the walls. The bed is neatly made, as if waiting for me to crawl under its familiar covers.
I spot my sketchpad on the desk, its leather cover worn from years of use. As I pick it up, my fingers brush against the indentations of countless sketches. Characters and stories born from my imagination.
I clutch the sketchpad to my chest and step back into the hallway. As I descend the stairs, voices drift up from the parlor. My father’s low rumble mingles with another, unfamiliar tone. Curiosity tugs at me, and I find myself inching closer.
“…cannot afford any mistakes, Giovanni,” the stranger says, his voice like gravel.
I freeze, my heart hammering. That voice.
Lorenzo De Luca.
My fingers tighten on the sketchpad as I press myself against the wall, straining to hear more.
“I understand the risks,” My father replies, his voice weary. “But this is our chance to reclaim what’s rightfully ours.”
“And betray your new son-in-law in the process?” Lorenzo chuckles darkly. “I admire your ambition.”
Son-in-law? Dante? My mind reels. What game is my father playing?
“Adriana’s marriage was a necessary evil,” Papa says, each word a knife in my chest. “This alliance will secure our future.”
I bite my lip to keep from gasping. Betrayal burns hot in my veins, threatening to consume me. How could he? After everything we’ve been through, after selling me like cattle to the Rossis?
Lorenzo’s next words chill me to the bone. “Remember, Giovanni. There’s no going back now. You’re either with us, or you’re in the ground.”
My legs tremble, and I lean heavily against the wall. What have you done, father?
I hear chairs scraping against the floor and quickly retreat, my heart pounding. Footsteps approach, and I duck into a nearby alcove, holding my breath. Lorenzo passes by, his cologne a sickening mix of leather and smoke. I wait, counting each agonizing second until I hear the front door close.
Anger surges through me, hot and fierce. I storm into the parlor, finding my father pouring himself a drink with shaking hands.
“How could you?” I demand, my voice trembling.
He startles, amber liquid sloshing over the rim of his glass. “Adriana! What are you doing here? Where-”
“To conspire with our enemies?” I cut him off, advancing. “To throw away everything, including me?”
Father’s face pales. “You don’t understand—”
“Then explain it to me!” I slam my sketchpad down on the table. The sound echoes like a gunshot. “Explain why you’re betraying Dante, betraying our family!”
He sets the glass down, his eyes darting to the door. “Keep your voice down,” he hisses.
“Why? Afraid Lorenzo might hear?” I laugh bitterly. “Or are you worried mom will discover what a snake you’ve become?”
His eyes flash. “Watch your tongue, young lady. I’m still your father.”
“Are you?” I challenge, my hands balling into fists. “Because the father I knew wouldn’t sell his daughter, then turn around and stab her husband in the back!”
He moves towards me, but I stand my ground. “Everything I’ve done,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, “I’ve done for this family.”
I shake my head, disgust churning in my stomach. “No. You’ve done it for yourself.”
Father clenches his jaw. He turns away, running a hand through his graying hair. “You don’t understand the pressures, the expectations—”
“Then help me understand!” I plead, my anger giving way to confusion. “Isn’t this why you married me off to Dante? To clear your debts, to restore our standing?”
He whirls back to face me, eyes blazing. “It’s not enough! The deal with Dante… it’s a band-aid on a gaping wound. Our name, our legacy—it’s still in tatters.”
I stare at him, disbelief washing over me. “So you’d risk everything? Our lives?”
“I’m taking back what’s rightfully ours,” he barks.
My heart pounds. I step closer, lowering my voice. “Papa, please. This game you’re playing… it’s dangerous. You’re not just risking yourself. What about Mama? What about me?”
For a moment, I see a flicker of doubt in his eyes. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by steely resolve.
“I know what I’m doing, Adriana,” he says, his tone final. “This is our chance to rise again, to be more than Dante Rossi’s lapdogs.”
I shake my head, tears stinging my eyes. “You’re going to get us all killed.”
He reaches for me, but I flinch away. His hand falls to his side. “One day, you’ll understand. This is for your future too.”
I turn away, unable to look at him anymore.
“No,” I retort. “This is the end of everything.”
“Adriana-” he starts, reaching for me.
I step back, out of his reach. “No. Whatever you’re planning, whatever deal you’ve made with Lorenzo - it ends now. Or I swear, I’ll tell Dante everything.”
The threat hangs in the air between us, heavy and dangerous. My father’s eyes widen, a flicker of fear crossing his face. For a moment, I see him not as the powerful man I’ve always known, but as someone trapped, desperate.
But then his expression hardens once more. “You wouldn’t dare,” he says, his voice low and threatening.
We stare at each other, the air crackling with tension. I clench my fists, fighting back tears of frustration and betrayal.
“Watch me,” I reply, turning on my heel and striding out of the room, leaving my father - and my trust in him - behind.
I storm out of my parents’ house, the door slamming behind me with a finality that echoes in my chest. The cool night air hits my face, but it does little to calm the inferno raging inside me.
As Enzo drives me back to Dante’s - our - house, my mind races. How could my father do this? Selling me off to Dante was supposed to solve everything. Now he’s risking it all, for what? Status? Power?
When we pull into the driveway, relief washes over me when I spot Dante’s car missing. I need time to think, to breathe, to figure out what the hell I’m going to do. I get out of the car before Enzo can open the door for me.
Inside, I pace the living room, my father’s words echoing in my head. “The deal with Dante isn’t enough.” Isn’t enough? I was the deal. I was supposed to be enough.
I collapse onto the couch, burying my face in my hands. Tell Dante or keep quiet? The choice tears at me. Loyalty to my family or to my husband? The husband I’m starting to care for more than I ever expected.
“What am I going to do?” I ask the empty room, wishing for an answer that doesn’t come.
The low rumble of Dante’s car pulling into the driveway jolts me from my thoughts. My heart rate spikes as I hear the front door open, his footsteps approaching.
“Adriana?” His deep voice calls out, making me even more nervous than I already am.
I swallow hard, willing my voice to sound normal. “In here.”
Dante appears in the doorway, his piercing gaze immediately locking onto me. He loosens his tie, looking at me with an intensity that makes me feel exposed.
“Everything alright?” he asks, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.
I force a smile. “Of course. Just tired.”
He nods slowly, not looking convinced. “Let’s get ready for bed then.”
In our bedroom, I change quickly, hyper-aware of Dante’s presence. My hands shake slightly as I button my nightgown.
“Adriana,” Dante says softly, now standing behind me. “What’s wrong?”
I turn, meeting his gaze. The concern in his eyes makes my chest tighten. “Nothing. I’m fine, really.”
His jaw clenches slightly, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Come to bed,” he says, his voice low and commanding.
I nod, following him to our large bed. Dante pulls me close, his naked body warm against mine. His lips find my neck, placing a soft kiss there.
I take a deep breath, willing my racing thoughts to slow. Dante’s arm tightens around me, and I feel his steady heartbeat against my back. It should be comforting, but tonight it only reminds me of the precarious position I’m in.
My eyes squeeze shut, but sleep eludes me. Images of my father’s clandestine meeting with Lorenzo flash behind my eyelids. The hushed voices, the tense atmosphere - it all comes rushing back.
How can I betray my father? But how can I betray Dante? The weight of my secret presses down on me, threatening to suffocate me in the dark of night.