Laurel P.O.V
The mansion rose before me like a palace carved out of shadow and gold. Its gates opened on their own, slow and obedient and I stepped inside as if I had done this a thousand times before. The air smelled warm like polished wood, expensive cologne and something soft and familiar I couldn't name.
Then I heard a soft giggle.
I looked down.
A baby crawled toward me across the marble floor, chubby hands slapping against the cold stone, eyes bright and impossibly alive. He was beautiful. Dark curls. Familiar eyes. He lifted his tiny arms and wrapped them around my leg as if I belonged to him.
"Mama!!" He chirped, his voice full of joy.
My heart lurched.
The word slammed into my chest.
I froze,confusion wrapped in a dangerous warmth.
My breath caught somewhere between fear and wonder. Mama? I looked down at him again, my hands trembling as if my body already knew something my mind refused to accept.
Behind me, footsteps echoed.
I turned.
Richardo stepped out of one of the massive doors, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, sharp and powerful like the man who ruled rooms without raising his voice. He looked... comfortable. At home. His eyes softened when they landed on me and before I could step back, he crossed the distance and pressed a quick kiss to my lips-casual, possessive like it was routine.
I pulled away slightly, confused,my eyes went back to the baby clinging to me.
Richardo chuckled, low and amused.
"Don't you recognise our son?"
The words slammed into me.
"Our...son?"
He bent down and lifted the baby effortlessly into his arms. The child laughed,grabbing at Richardo's collar like he trusted him completely.
"Camiello" Richardo said sharply, his tone suddenly changing as he looked around. "Why was Camiello on the floor?" His voice rose, dangerously. "Do you want him to catch a cold?" He roared.
Maids appeared from everywhere-too many, too fast. They dropped to their knees instantly, heads bowed, hands shaking as they begged for forgiveness. Their voices blurred together into desperate whispers.
"I'm sorry, sir"
"Please forgive us"
"It won't happen again"
Every maid dropped to their knees instantly, begging, crying, trembling. The sound of their fear filled the hall.
My chest tightened.
Then I heard it.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
A sound that didn't belong.
I stiffened.
Tick. Tick.
My head snapped around. The sound was coming from somewhere close-too close. My pulse roared in my ears as Richardo continued yelling, blind with rage, unaware.
"Enough!" I tried to shout, stepping toward him. "Richardo, stop-"
The ticking sped up.
Ticktickticktick-
Suddenly, silence.
Richardo stiffened. His eyes darkened as if he finally sensed it. Without a word, he handed the baby to one of the maids.
"Take him"
The maid nodded and turned-
-and then she was gone.
The maids.
The baby.
Gone.
"No" I whispered, panic clawing up my throat. "Where's my baby?"
My legs moved on their own. "Where's my baby?" My voice broke as I stumbled forward, heart pounding violently. "Where did you take him?"
The air felt wrong. Heavy. Pressurized.
I tried to blame Richardo.
But then the explosion came without mercy.
Fire. Light. Sound tearing through me.
"My babyyyy-!"
I screamed-
-and woke up screaming.
My throat burned as I sucked in air. The room was dark. Real. Too real.
My body was drenched in cold sweat, heart hammering like it wanted to escape my chest.
Before I could breathe, weight slammed onto me.
Someone was on top of me.
I couldn't see the face,only darkness and breathing that wasn't mine.
Panic exploded inside me.
I kicked, clawed, thrashed wildly, panic turning my limbs into weapons. My fingers scratched at skin, fabric-anything.
I managed to shove the person back just enough to roll off the bed. I didn't think. I ran.
The door was right there-
Pain exploded at my back.
I screamed as a kick sent me crashing to the floor. Before I could turn, my blanket was yanked over my face, swallowing my vision. My arms were wrenched behind me. Rope bit into my wrists.
"No-no-please-!"
The knot tightened.
I was blind.
Trapped.
Helpless.
Hands dragged me across the floor.
My heart pounded so loudly I was sure they could hear it. I twisted, fought, tried to free myself, but the blindfold robbed me of direction, of balance. I tasted fear-thick and bitter.
Who sent him?
Was it Richardo?
Was this punishment?
Richardo's face burned into my mind. His voice. His orders. His power.
I felt myself being dragged-across the floor, out of the room. My body scraped against something hard. Cold air hit my skin.
I struggled harder, rage and terror mixing until I could barely think.
A door slid open.
The smell of oil. Metal.
I was thrown inside something hard and hollow.
A van.
The doors slammed shut.
I laid there shaking, bound and blind, my nightmare bleeding into reality until I couldn't tell where fear ended and truth began.
As the engine roared to life and the vehicle began to move, one thought echoed louder than the rest, curling around my heart like a curse:
I didn't wake up from the nightmare.
I walked straight into it.
And the last thought that clawed through my mind before the darkness swallowed me whole was this-
If Richardo didn't send them...then whoever did was closer than I ever imagined.
The ride felt endless.
I didn't know where they were taking me-only that every turn, every sudden stop, dragged me farther away from anything familiar.
The van didn't stop when my body begged it to.
It kept moving, swallowing distance, swallowing time.The engine hummed low and steady like it knew I was trapped and enjoyed the certainty of it.
My wrists burned against the tight bindings,my legs were numb from being folded wrong, my breath trapped behind the blindfold that smelled like dust and someone else's fear.
Men's voices surrounded me-deep, careless and confident.
Italian.
Fast.
Sharp.
I didn't understand the words, but I understood the tone. This wasn't panic. This wasn't improvisation. This was business.
Rough hands lifted me without warning. My stomach lurched as one of them threw me over his shoulder like luggage. My head thudded against his back with each step. Somewhere nearby, music pulsed-slow jazz, thick with bass, the kind that crawled under your skin.
A club.
Or something pretending to be one. Laughter drifted through the walls, muffled, drunk, unaware that a life was being traded a few rooms away.
Why would they bring me to a club?
The answer came when a door slammed shut, the sound echoing like a gunshot.
I was dropped hard onto the floor.
Pain shot through my knees, but before I could cry out, hands ripped the blindfold from my eyes and light stabbed into my vision, forcing tears out as I blinked rapidly.
When my sight cleared, my breath caught,the first thing I saw was a fat man standing in front of me.
He wore an expensive suit stretched tight across his body, gold rings crowding his fingers. His smile was slow and oily, the kind that didn't reach the eyes. Those eyes were cold,calculating like I was already dead and he was deciding how useful my body would be before that happened.
My stomach twisted.
This wasn't Richardo's doing.
I felt it.
That realization should have comforted me.But it didn't.
The man studied me for a moment, then chuckled softly as if amused by my terror. He turned away and pulled out his phone.
He pulled out a phone, dialed without hesitation and put it on speaker.
The line rang once.
Twice.
Then Richardo's voice filled the room.
Low. Controlled. Deadly calm.
"You have five seconds" Richardo said. "If this is a joke,you die tonight"
"What do you want?" Richardo asked.
The man chuckled. "Still arrogant. That's why I like you, Alterdo"
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Richardo went silent. Not surprised.But calculating.
The fat man smiled wider.
He stepped closer to me as he spoke, his shadow swallowing my body. "I have something that belongs to you"
There was a pause.
Then,it became quieter and dangerous. "If you've touched her-"
"I haven't" The man interrupted lazily. "Not yet. She's breathing. That alone should tell you how valuable she is"
"I have your weakness" He continued into the phone. "Breathing. Trembling. Very alive"
My throat tightened.
Richardo's voice dropped. "Say what you want"
The man's grin widened. "Half your eastern men. Your ports in Milan. And your silence when the council meets next month"
He straightened and began pacing slowly like a king addressing a court.
I froze.
"You want my throne" Richardo replied flatly.
"I want your fall" The man corrected. "Slow. Public. Bloody"
"I want part of your empire" He said. "Your men. Your routes. Your influence. You share power with me..."
Richardo went silent.
Silence stretched, heavy enough to crush bone.
The man leaned down until his face was inches from mine. "Tell him what happens if he refuses"
I couldn't speak.
My mouth wouldn't work.
The man didn't wait. "I'll send her back to you in pieces. Or I'll let the other Dons play with her first. Either way, your weakness becomes your execution"
My stomach turned to ice.
Richardo exhaled slowly. "You're making a mistake"
The man laughed-a thick, wet sound. "No. You did. The moment you let her live"
Something inside me cracked.
So Acadia was right.
I wasn't protection.
I was leverage.
The man laughed. "You know I can finish this before your men even smell the blood"
The room felt like it was closing in.
"You're overestimating her value" Richardo replied coldly.
The words sliced deeper than any blade.
The man stopped walking.
"Oh?" He said softly. "Then let's test that"
He snapped his fingers.
Someone behind me cocked a gun.
My breath broke into quiet sobs.
So this was the truth.
I was expendable.
Richardo exhaled slowly on the other end of the line. "If she dies, you won't live long enough to regret it"
"No" The man replied. "I will! You let yourself care"
Care.
I almost laughed at the cruelty of it.
The man leaned down, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for me.
"Men like him don't save women like you" He murmured. "They trade them"
He raised the phone again.
"Decide, Richardo.Because tonight,the Dons are watching. And they're tired of you pretending you're untouchable" The man said. "Power...or her"
He ended the call.
The silence afterward was worse than the shouting.
The man crouched in front of me, his breath hot and sour. "He hasn't agreed yet" He said. "That means you still have time"
Time for what, he didn't say.
As they dragged me away again, deeper into the building, my hope finally bled out.
Richardo wasn't coming. Not for me.
Not when power was on the line.
And as the door closed behind us, sealing me into whatever waited next, one thought echoed louder than my screams:
He won't come.
He won't save me.
I lowered my head, tears slipping freely now,not from fear alone, but from the certainty that getting involved with a monster had been my final mistake.
And somewhere, far away, Richardo Alterdo was choosing.
Because in the mafia world, mercy is expensive and I was the price.