Russo Estate – Dinner Table
"Emilia".
Emilia paused, her fork hovering over her plate. Her father never called her name softly unless something serious was coming. She slowly lifted her gaze, meeting Piero Russo's intense eyes.
"Emilia," he repeated, setting his wine glass down. "Do you have any idea what kind of mess you've stirred up?"
Her grip on the fork tightened. She already knew where this conversation was going.
"If this is about him, I don't want to hear it," she said flatly, stabbing a piece of steak.
Sofia sighed, exchanging a look with her husband. "We're not asking you to like him, figlia," her mother said, voice softer, but firm. "But you must understand the weight of this."
Emilia rolled her eyes. "Oh, I understand perfectly. The great Alessandro Bianchi thinks he can order me around like some obedient pet. And you—" she looked directly at her father "—want me to play along because it benefits the family."
Piero's expression hardened. "This isn't about benefits. It's about survival."
Emilia scoffed. "Survival? Since when do the Russos bow to the Bianchis?"
Her father's eyes flashed with warning. "We don't bow," he corrected. "But we know when a war isn't worth fighting."
She pushed her plate aside, appetite ruined. "I never asked for this."
"You think we don't know that?" Sofia's voice was sharp now. "But things have escalated, Emilia. Alessandro is making claims. Public ones. And someone is watching you."
That made her pause. "What?"
"We caught an unknown tail on you," Piero admitted. "Not one of ours, not one of Bianchi's. Someone else is in the mix."
A strange chill ran down Emilia's spine, but she masked it with a smirk. "And you think his protection will make a difference?"
Piero leaned forward. "If it comes to a war, Emilia, we fight. But if a marriage keeps us alive long enough to find out who our real enemies are…" He let the words sink in.
She exhaled sharply. This wasn't just about Alessandro anymore.
It was about survival.
And if there was one thing Emilia Russo excelled at, it was playing a game she refused to lose.
"Fine," she muttered. "But if he thinks for a second that I'll be a quiet little wife, he's mistaken…"
Piero smirked. "That's my girl."
Bianchi enterprise– Alessandro's Office
Alessandro leaned back in his chair, going over some documents when—
BANG!
The office doors flew open, crashing against the walls.
A deadly silence followed.
Luciano, who had been sitting across from Alessandro, raised an amused brow. "Well, well… looks like the your bitch came to the lion's den."
Alessandro's eyes darkened as he slowly stood. Emilia Russo stood at his doorstep, looking like a storm wrapped in a perfectly tailored gray suit. Her black heels clicked as she stepped inside, chin lifted in defiance.
The guards at the door hesitated, unsure of whether to stop her. Smart men—they wouldn't dare.
Alessandro smirked. "To what do I owe this pleasure, topolina?"
"Hmm?". She bit her lips, taking a cigarette from his table and his lighter, she lights it, sat on his table and puff a smoke right to his face. "Do you just want to have a forbidden love trope or what, Russos and Bianchis, joining hands, were you born with a brain tumor or it runs in the family. Ariana... a bully, Mateo Bianchi big bully, Alessandro a even bigger bul... No I misspoke, your a psycho, what the fuck do you want with me?".
Alessandro let out a low chuckle, completely unfazed by the smoke clouding between them. His eyes gleamed with something dark—something dangerous.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as he studied her with a slow, amused smirk. "Oh, dolcezza," he murmured, voice laced with mock pity. "That mouth of yours is going to get you in a lot of trouble one day."
Emilia rolled her eyes, taking another drag from the cigarette. "As if you haven't created one for me already, I'm being stalked now because of you, this isn't even funny anymore, I don't want you, look young man I have many pretty friends, hot hot ladies that would look good together with you okay, young miss Russo loves being a bachelor, why don't we stop all this fight and I'll introduce you to other girls ".
Alessandro let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. His dark eyes gleamed with something sinister, something that sent a shiver down Emilia's spine despite her best efforts to appear unfazed.
"That's adorable, dolcezza," he mused, leaning back in his chair. "But let's get something straight—you don't get to decide whether you want me or not."
Emilia scoffed, exhaling another puff of smoke. "Oh, really? And who does? You?" She rolled her eyes. "God, you're delusional."
Alessandro suddenly stood, moving around the desk with slow, calculated steps. In the blink of an eye, he was right in front of her, his fingers curling around her wrist, yanking the cigarette from her hand and flicking it to the floor. Before she could protest, he grabbed her chin, tilting her face up to his.
"I don't need you to want me, Amore," he murmured, his grip tightening just enough to make her pulse race. "I just need you to understand that you belong to me."
Emilia glared up at him, refusing to back down. "You really are sick, aren't you?"
He smirked "Luciano out".
"Okay okay, I'm heading to work then". He said leaving for the albano empire.