CHAPTER 4

It hurts. My lower back is in pain, and it even feels a bit numb. Ornella tightened her grip on me to help me stand properly. I winced, holding my lower back as I slowly got to my feet.

"Vicenzo, we're really sorry," I heard Ornella say. "We were just in a hurry."

Why does the pain in my lower back linger for so long? I looked down to double-check my dress, making sure it wasn't stained. I dusted off the back of my cocktail dress to ensure there was no dirt left.

"Next time, watch where you're going," said the man who bumped into me, his voice deep and stern. His name was Vicenzo.

I took a deep breath and grabbed Ornella's hand as I looked at her to let her know I was fine. Nothing else happened to me aside from falling to the floor because of the forceful collision.

"I'm okay, Ornella," I signed to her with a small smile.

I turned to look at the man who bumped into me. I had to tilt my head upward because he was so tall compared to me. His broad frame was evident, and it was clear that he worked out to achieve such a well-built physique. It felt like being around him would make you feel safe, as if he could protect you in so many ways.

His chest looked like it could serve as a pillow or even a place to rest. His body was well-defined beneath the black three-piece suit he was wearing. His face was devoid of emotion as he stared at me. His dark chocolate-brown hair, tied in a man bun, had a few strands falling loosely across his undeniably handsome face.

Thick eyebrows, long and lush lashes—his hazel eyes made me feel like I was drowning as my ocean-blue eyes met his.

I swallowed hard when I noticed a slight change in his expression, his brow furrowing as he studied my face. Feeling self-conscious, I quickly looked down and raised my hand to sign in front of him.

"I'm sorry. It was my fault. My cousin and I were in a hurry. I apologize again," I signed hastily, flustered, only to realize that not everyone understands sign language.

I turned when I felt Ornella's warm hand on my back, as if she was trying to comfort me.

"She said she's sorry for what happened and that it was her fault. We were in a hurry," Ornella explained.

I clasped my hands together behind my back, trying to calm my nerves. I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze. For some reason, his stare made me uneasy. It felt intimidating.

"Okay—"

"Vicenzo! Let's go. The Don is looking for you," I heard another man say as he approached the person I had bumped into.

"Let's go, Fiore. Your father might be looking for you," Ornella said to me.

She took my hand and gently pulled me along to find my father. I didn't think I had fully recovered from what had just happened, so I allowed her to guide me until we finally reached my father.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Ornella and I immediately parted ways as soon as we found my father's table. It took us several rounds around the area before we spotted him—he had moved to the pool area, which we hadn't checked earlier due to the growing crowd.

"You're five minutes late, Fiorella."

I swallowed hard and lowered my head as soon as I heard my father's voice when we reached his table. Mario, who was seated beside him, was also looking at me, I was certain of it.

I glanced quickly at my father, who was glaring at me, before sitting down beside him. I raised my hands and signed an explanation in front of him.

"I'm sorry. Ornella and I got lost trying to find your table, Father. It won't happen again, I promise."

After responding to his earlier comment, I rested both hands on my lap and stayed seated quietly. From where I sat, I could see Ornella at another table, chatting with her father. She was smiling, and they seemed to be having a pleasant conversation.

As I watched them, I felt a sharp pain in my chest—a pang of envy. My father had never been like that with me in my entire life. I sighed deeply, leaned back in my chair, and idly observed the other guests enjoying themselves around the venue.

When the party finally ended in the early hours of the morning and most of the Don of Cosa Nostra's guests had already left, my father's grip on my arm tightened. He was practically dragging me toward the white limo parked by the curb of the circular driveway.

A pained whimper escaped my lips from the sheer force of his grip. I was sure it would leave a mark.

As soon as we reached the limo, my head snapped to the side as I felt the heavy slap of his hand land on my cheek. I squeezed my eyes shut in shock, my trembling hand instinctively reaching up to touch the stinging spot on my face.

"If you ever do that again, it won't just be a slap I'll give you. Do you understand me, huh? " he hissed angrily at me. "Don't let me find out that your slut of a cousin is influencing you! If I discover you're becoming like her, I'll make you sleep naked outside the compound. Don't test my patience, or I might lose control!" he seethed, his voice laced with rage.

Tears immediately welled up in my eyes as I struggled to hold them back, refusing to let them fall as I looked at him. My gaze flicked to Mario, who stood silently behind my father, his expression void of any emotion as he watched me.

"I'm sorry..." I signed with trembling hands, my chin quivering.

My father opened the door of the white limousine and grabbed my arm, shoving me inside forcefully. I flinched as he slammed the door shut with a loud bang. The tears I had been trying so hard to hold back began streaming freely down my cheeks.

Inside the car, I let myself cry without restraint. I was alone, and the driver wouldn't hear me through the partition, nor would he see me breaking down.

I didn't know how many minutes passed as I cried before my father and Mario entered the car. I knew my father had been speaking with the Don earlier because I had seen them from the other side of the circular driveway, engaged in what looked like a serious conversation before returning to the limo.

My father glanced at me without emotion. His position remained the same—sitting at one end, while I was at the opposite end of the car. I knew he noticed my puffy, tear-streaked eyes and reddened nose.

"I have something planned for you, Fiorella," he said, his tone unsettlingly calm. "Something that will finally make you useful. Just wait, okay?" He smiled sweetly, but it sent chills down my spine.

My lips parted slightly in shock and an inexplicable sense of dread washed over me. The tone of his voice, the look in his eyes—it all made my skin crawl.

Why do I feel so uneasy?

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

VICENZO ALDO RUSSO

"Where are the crates of guns that are supposed to be sent to Siberia? Set them aside so they can be loaded onto the ship early tomorrow morning," I said seriously as I grabbed one of the soldiers by the arm to stop him from walking.

There are many soldiers assigned here at the pier right now to handle the illegal arms trafficking being sent to other countries. I just make sure nothing is overlooked to ensure smooth operations until everything is sent to the right destinations.

"They're ready," one of the soldiers quickly responded to me.

For all the illegal trades we're involved in, each Caporegime and soldier has their own assigned tasks. Some handle the distribution of cocaine, arms trafficking, and many others, especially in the global drug operations.

They all have their specific roles, especially when it comes to the smuggling routes and how to send the drugs properly. They know this well, as many of my men here have been working for me for a long time.

"What about the shipments to Russia? Make sure you check them carefully before loading them onto the ship. If I hear another complaint from the Pakhan about how the weapons are being shipped, you won't like what I'll do to you," I said to him as his large trolley, carrying crates, was being pushed along.

"We've already checked the shipments to Russia, Vicenzo. Don't worry, we'll make sure there are no issues and the shipments go smoothly to other countries," he assured me.

I just nodded and motioned for him to leave. Once he was gone, I reached for my black pants when my cellphone suddenly rang.

"What?" I replied when I accepted the call.

"Someone's looking for you right now."

My brow furrowed when I heard the seriousness in Matteo's voice on the other end. I began walking toward the small office next to the warehouse at the pier where we were.

"Who?"

"Someone from the Camorra. They're looking for you, hurry up," he replied and ended the call.

I muttered a curse under my breath and hurried to get there. The small office was at the far end of the pier. Some soldiers greeted me as I passed, but I only nodded in response.

As I rushed to walk, the events from the night of the Don of Cosa Nostra's birthday suddenly flashed into my mind. The night when someone bumped into me.

The familiar black hair, ocean-blue eyes—like the sea. A small face and full pink lips. I tightly closed my eyes and tried to forget.

Maybe I was just imagining it. Why did I see Lella Fiore in her? It felt like I was missing her and even managed to compare that woman to her.

When I reached the closed door of the small office, I stopped for a moment as a thought entered my mind. Her hand rose, and she began signaling in front of me.

A deeper furrow appeared on my brow as I remembered that moment. It was impossible—

"Vicenzo?"

I looked up and saw Matteo. His head was peeking through the small crack in the door of the office, clearly waiting for me to arrive.

"Who's waiting?" I asked him.

He didn't answer. Instead, he simply opened the door and let me enter. I immediately saw a man who was somewhat older, as evidenced by the few strands of white hair on his head. He was seated on an empty chair in front of the side of my wide desk. I sat in my swivel chair, and just as I did, the man spoke.

"Good evening, Russo. I'm Antonio Schiavone," he introduced himself.

"Capo of the Schiavone Clan of the Camorra?" I said while looking at him.

He nodded. "That's right," he said with a smile.

I just stared at him before leaning back into the soft backrest of my leather swivel chair. Matteo was keeping watch by the closed door of the small office.

"What does the capo of the Schiavone want here?" I said seriously. "It's a bit unusual for you to come to our place. Your territory is quite far from ours, am I right? What's your purpose here with us?"

He chuckled quietly at my words, causing my brow to furrow. I watched him as he took something from the brown envelope he was carrying and dropped it onto my desk. It was a digital print of a picture.

Matteo, who had been standing by the closed door, walked over to see what the Capo had dropped in front of me.

"I think it would be better if you were the one to see this, Russo," he said with a smile.

Matteo took a few photos, and I heard him muttering a soft curse under his breath as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

My teeth clenched when I saw what it was. The only daughter of the Don of the Cosa Nostra and my father were seen kissing in the dark hallway of the Velantari mansion. This night was the birthday of the Don of the Cosa Nostra.

In another photo, their hands were holding each other as they hurriedly entered a room, both smiling.

I crushed the photo in my fist. I glared sharply at the Capo of the Schiavone, who now had a small smile on his lips.

"What do you want?" I asked him sternly.

He tried to suppress his laugh but failed, letting out a hearty laugh before taking a deep breath and answering me.

"Marry my daughter, Russo—"

"Are you out of your mind?" I asked, laughing.

I raised my hand slightly to grab the pistol under the table, but I felt Matteo's hand on mine, stopping me.

"Don't," Matteo said coldly.

I knew he didn't like what he saw either, based on the tone of his voice. When I saw his reaction, he was dark and emotionless, staring at the Capo of the Schiavone clan.

The Capo took a deep breath and stood up from his seat. He brushed off his suit before walking toward me. He smiled at me and lowered his gaze to look at the photos he had taken.

"Choose, Russo. I'll spread these around, or will you marry my daughter? Do you think the Don of the Cosa Nostra will be pleased that your father is fucking his only daughter? This won't just be an ordinary fight, Russo. This could be a war between the Cosa Nostra and the 'Ndrangheta. So while you still can, make your choice," his smile faded, replaced by seriousness. His voice had a threatening tone, directed at both me and Matteo.

"If you're planning to kill me, don't even think about it because I have backup with me. Don't choose to bring harm to your entire clan, Russo. So, if I were you, I'd make the right choice."

I didn't know what to answer. I was too shocked by everything I was learning now, especially the photos now lying in front of me and Matteo.

"Is that all you want?" I asked him coldly. "To marry your daughter?"

"If you follow what I want, your marriage to my daughter won't just make her your wife. Because the Russo and the Schiavone will be united, I expect you to help us with other illegal trades, especially in the drug trade. As for the territories, I expect that we'll control our territories and no one will take them from us. That's what I want, and of course, we're also willing to give you whatever help you need, whatever you want from us."

I was about to speak when I felt Matteo tap my shoulder.

"Are you willing to help us with the smuggling routes we can use for sending drugs and other things?" Matteo interjected.

The Capo smiled at us and nodded. "Of course. If you want, we can include you in our routes. If you have anything close that we can send—"

"I'm not agreeing yet," I interrupted irritably.

The Capo was stunned by what I said. "Is that so, Russo? I'm easy to deal with. I've already told you what the consequences will be for what your father did to the Don of the Cosa Nostra's only daughter. I've made my offer, and all I was waiting for was your decision."

He turned his back on me, but before leaving, he handed me a white folder. I frowned and stared at it with confusion before taking it to look inside.

"We're both in trouble if the Don of the Cosa Nostra finds out what our fathers did, Russo," Matteo said seriously.

I quickly opened the white folder, and what I saw looked like a biodata. There was a photo on the side. The woman in the picture had a serious expression, long black hair that was somewhat wavy, and fair skin that looked almost pearl-like. Her eyes were so intense, they resembled the sea, and her lips were pink, almost to the point of being red.

My brow furrowed, and my chest tightened with anxiety when I saw who it was. I wasn't mistaken; this woman was the one I had bumped into during the Don of the Cosa Nostra's birthday.

Fiorella Carla Schiavone

25 years old

"If you don't want to get married, I'll take the responsibility for the sake of our clan, Vicenzo. The Valentari will surely wipe us out once they find out what our fathers have done—"

"No," I firmly replied, my gaze locked on the gentle face of Fiorella in the paper I was holding. "I'll be her husband, Matteo, not you."

My voice was cold when I said that. The woman I was about to marry and the woman I cared for deeply were one and the same. I never imagined that her family and mine would both be involved in illegal activities. The world truly is so small.

I lifted my head as I saw the Capo of the Schiavone Clan still walking toward the closed door. I cleared my throat before speaking to get his attention.

"I'll accept your offer," I said, stopping him just as he was about to open the door.

I wouldn't let anyone notice Fiorella except for Matteo. Because I knew I was the first, I was the first with Fiorella, and no one else would claim her but me.

She's mine. Fiorella belongs to me, and no one else can have her.

SHANGPU