Chapter 9
P aolina
The phone shouldn’t even be here. Donatello confiscated mine the moment he pulled me off that airplane months ago.
I haven’t had a number, a signal, a tether to the outside since.
But somehow one slipped past him—Nora, the nurse, left a backup mobile in the nightstand after checking my blood pressure.
Probably meant for emergencies. Probably thought I’d never notice.
I noticed.
It buzzes now, screen glowing an unfamiliar number. Curiosity wins over caution.
“Hello?” My voice is tentative, caught between fear and longing.
“ Troia. ”
The word slams into me like a slap. Aldo.
My breath locks.
“You think you humiliated me? You think you can run from me and spread your legs for that bastard Romano? Sporca puttana. You’re carrying his brat, and you think anyone will respect you?
You’re filth. I know where you are. You’re not safe from me.
I’ll cut that baby out of you. Better yet, I’ll fuck it out of you.
Show you what a real man is like. Hell. Maybe I’ll let you crawl back to me when he’s done with you. ”
He laughs maniacally.
“Oh, and if it’s his money you’re after, I’ve got my own. The dumb fuck doesn’t even realize I’ve been skimming from the shipments, moving guns on the side. He thinks he knows everything. Stronzo. He'd better watch his back.”
His voice, so familiar once, is poison now. Rage slithers with every syllable.
I can’t answer. Tears blur my vision. My hand presses to my belly, instinctively shielding. The baby shifts as if stirred by my panic.
“Dirty slut,” Aldo snarls, louder now. “I’ll tell your father what you are. He’ll spit on you. He’ll thank me when I put you back in your place. See you soon, troia . ”
The line goes dead.
I sit frozen, phone limp in my hand, body trembling with aftershocks of fear. My breath comes ragged, chest aching .
The door bursts open. I jump to my feet expecting Aldo. Instead, a guard enters, machine gun raised, sharp eyes search the room. “Signorina? I heard raised voices.”
I can’t answer. My throat burns as tears stream down my flushed cheeks.
He takes one look at my face and doesn’t wait—he pulls out his radio. “Get D. Now.”
I sit frozen, phone limp in my hand. My body trembles so violently I can feel the mattress shift beneath me.
Donatello is going to kill him. He’ll take Aldo apart piece by piece until nothing remains but blood and silence.
And what then? Aldo may be a snake, but he’s still famiglia.
Killing him without sanction could ripple straight up to Luca and the Lucchese brothers.
Even Marcello may not be able to stop his fate at their hands.
I know enough to understand what it means when men like Donatello act outside the chain of command.
If he does this because of me… I’ll be the problem. The ruin. The cause of a war in the family.
Thirty minutes later, the door bursts open. Donatello fills the frame, eyes narrowing when he sees my face. He crosses to me in two strides, crouches so we’re eye level, his stare black fire. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” I blurt out, clutching the phone tighter. “I just… I overreacted.”
His gaze slices through me. “Don’t lie.” His hand clamps around my wrist, not painful, but unyielding. “Tell me. Now.”
“It’s nothing?— ”
“ No. ” His voice sharpens, steel over stone. “You never lie to me, Paolina. Ever. Or else.”
Fear and shame tangle. “I don’t want to cause trouble for you,” I whisper. “For the family. If you hurt him?—”
He scoffs, jaw flexing, a harsh sound that shudders through me. “One last time, bella mia . Tell me. Or I find out my way, and then your silence will matter less than the truth.”
Tears sting my eyes. My throat closes. He waits, silent and immovable, until my breath breaks on the confession.
“It was Aldo. He called. He… He called me names. Said I was a dirty slut. Said he’d take the baby.
That my father would spit on me for what I’ve done.
” My voice shakes, falling to a whisper.
“He said he’d find me. Fuck my baby from me. He’s been stealing from the Family.”
Donatello stills to stone. His grip tightens once, then releases as he stands. His expression is no longer man, no longer human. It’s predatory.
“Good girl,” he says, soft and terrifying as he rises. “Now I know exactly what to do.”
I try to speak. Instead, I fold, sobbing.
He gathers me into his arms before the sounds finish leaving my mouth. “Shhh,” he murmurs, tucking me under his chin. His palm spreads over my belly, protective, calming. “I’ve got you. He’ll never touch you. Never touch her. Not while I breathe.”
The tremors take a long time to ebb. My tears dampen his shirt. His thumb strokes slow circles on my back until exhaustion drags me under. My last awareness is of his lips brushing my hair.
“You’re safe, bella mia. Sleep. I’ll handle this.”
Donatello
Her sobs echo in my head long after she falls asleep. They crack something in me no bullet ever has. Aldo’s voice came through this room like filth through clean water. I won’t let it happen again.
I press a kiss to her temple, careful not to wake her, and ease from the bed.
Nora hovers outside the door. One look at my face makes her blanch.
“This your phone?”
She nods, stumbling backwards.
My hand lashes out and grips her arm like a vise, dragging her into the hallway, closing the double doors behind me. She cowers as my face lowers inches to hers.
“Are you a fucking mole, Nora?”
She trembles.
I shake her like a leaf trapped in the eye of a tornado. “Answer me, damn you.”
“He—He forced me. Threatened to r—rape and kill my baby brother?—”
“I don’t give a fuck about your baby brother or you. I’ll kill you and your entire fucking family,” I thunder as I shove her towards the soldiers. “Lock the bitch up in the dungeon. I’ll deal with her after I kill that son of a bitch Aldo.”
Her pleas for mercy trail behind me as I charge down the hallway.
“One of you stays with Paolina,” I order. “No one enters. Not even God himself.”
Downstairs, I dial Marcello. He answers on the first ring.
“Brother.”
“Aldo called Paolina,” I say. Voice flat. Controlled. The words vibrate with something darker beneath. “He threatened her. Threatened our daughter. And the fucker admitted he’s been stealing guns, selling them off. That’s why he shot Gino. It wasn’t a mistake—he was about to rat Aldo out.”
Silence. Then a hiss. “Where?”
“I’ll find him. Tonight.”
“Do it,” Marcello replies. “End him. Don’t worry about any blowback. I got you, brother.”
Faustino joins the call. His tone is colder. “Make it slow. He’s disgraced us long enough.”
I end the call, already moving. My soldiers know by my stride not to ask questions. The helicopter waits, blades cutting the night. Sicily awaits, her blood in my veins and vengeance in my bones.
The warehouse reeks of oil and damp concrete. Chains clink as Aldo dangles from them, stripped to his shirt, arrogance gone from his eyes. My men delivered him like garbage. Naked and already bruised from their fists. My turn.
“Donatello—wait?—”
I don’t. My fist cracks his jaw. Blood sprays. His cry is high and ugly.
“You threatened her. ” My voice is low, deadly. “You threatened my baby .”
“I—she?—”
My knife is already in my hand. I press the blade against his mouth, then inside, prying. “You like to run it so much. Let’s see how you do without it.”
His eyes go wide. The muffled plea dies as I slice. His tongue severs with a gush of blood and piss. I stuff the slab of meat up his ass since he talks shit and wants to fuck with what’s mine.
“Talk now,” I snarl.
He gags, chokes, thrashes. My men snicker.
“See you in hell, motherfucker.”
Eyes locked on his, I end him with one sure cut across his throat. His body jerks, sprays, stills. The silence that follows is cleaner than confession.
“Burn him,” I order. “Scatter the ashes in the sea. Let the fish choke on him.”
Hours later, I step into the villa, the weight of blood washed from me but still clinging in my chest.
The scent of jasmine greets me, soft, incongruous. Upstairs, our suite is dim, the sea murmuring outside. I nod at the soldier as he opens the doors for me .
I strip. Paolina stirs as I slide beneath the covers. Her eyes flutter half-open, searching. I draw her into me, pressing her back to my chest, one hand cradling the curve of her belly.
“Shhh,” I murmur against her hair. “It’s done. You’re safe.”
She sighs, already falling under again, and I hold her tighter, the echo of vengeance still humming in my veins, anchored only by the woman and child who are mine.
Forever.