Antonio exhaled a stream of cigarette smoke, his gaze cold and unfeeling as he stared at the man kneeling in front of him, blood dripping down the man's face. Leo, his Caporegime, had betrayed the family by divulging sensitive information to their rivals. Betrayal was a crime Antonio detested as much as cowardice. Now, he sat, relaxed in an armchair in the dim, damp dungeon, tauntingly brushing the muzzle of his gun against Leo's bruised and swollen face. Leo's hands were chained above his head, his body battered after days of torture. The man's endurance had been impressive, a testament to Antonio's men's methods of interrogation. But even so, Antonio intended to end his life, deciding to draw out the agony just a little longer.
"Please... have mercy," Leo whispered, his voice so faint it was barely audible. Antonio scoffed, his lips curling in a twisted smile at the sound of that word. *Mercy.* How many times had he heard men beg for it at their end, men who never showed it when they wielded their own power? Disappointingly, even Leo, who had held up well under torture, was now reduced to pleading.
"You should have thought of that before you betrayed us," Antonio replied, his voice nonchalant as he toyed with the gun in his hand. He raised the weapon, pointing it at Leo's head. The man's eyes widened, his body visibly trembling. "Please... please don't kill me," Leo begged, a mix of terror and regret in his eyes. His hopes of rescue had dimmed; he now knew he was doomed.
Antonio's tone turned cold and detached. "Are you going to talk, or should I end this now?" The gun pressed into Leo's temple. Leo's shoulders slumped as he exhaled heavily, knowing he would die regardless. But he wasn't going down without revealing what he knew.
"They're... planning a revolt against you," Leo choked out. "The other families... Giovanni and Valentino... they've been intercepting shipments, posing as your allies." Antonio's face darkened, a slow-burning fury igniting. He had suspected unrest and sabotage, but now he had confirmation.
"For this information," Antonio sneered, "I'll spare your wife and unborn child." Leo's body relaxed in slight relief before he went limp. Antonio fired a single shot, ending the traitor's life. As he stood up, his mind seethed with thoughts of betrayal and the audacity of the other families. Mexico had been a distraction, and now, on his return, he found chaos. The Giovanni and Valentino families, along with others, had overstepped their bounds, thinking they could take advantage of the Moretti empire.
The Moretti family had a long, ruthless history in the criminal underworld, dating back to Antonio's great-grandfather, who had cemented their power and influence in Italy and Mexico. Over generations, the family's alliances and rivalries had expanded their reach, giving them a fierce legacy to uphold. However, in recent years, the family's grip in Mexico had loosened, forcing Antonio's father to consolidate power locally. Antonio, determined to restore their legacy, had spent three years rebuilding connections, forming alliances, and quietly weakening rivals. Now it seemed all that work would be put to the test.
"Everything is set, Antonio," Luca, his trusted lieutenant, announced, stepping into the room where Leo's body lay. Antonio, deep in thought, merely nodded, turning and making his way out, Luca following close behind.
After washing the scent of blood from his hands, Antonio prepared himself for dinner with the DeLuca family, where they would finalize his engagement to Rosetta. His mind lingered on his rival, Enzo, a lawyer adopted by the Giordano family. Though not directly a threat, he was the man who held Rosetta's affections. The thought only made Antonio more resolute in his plans.
As they rode to the DeLuca mansion, Antonio stared out the car window, contemplating his strategy. His temper simmered just below the surface; he could feel the weight of the inevitable retaliation against the Giovanni and Valentino families. But killing them outright would create a ripple effect, igniting a larger conflict. Instead, he envisioned a show of strength—a warning that would reassert his dominance and remind everyone of his reach.
Luca's voice interrupted his thoughts. "We're here, Antonio." Antonio glanced at him, his gaze lingering, silently holding Luca responsible for missing the traitor in their ranks. Despite his respect for Luca's capabilities, Antonio's trust had been slightly shaken.
"Welcome, Mr. Moretti," Layla, the DeLuca's servant, greeted him with a small bow as he entered the house. Antonio gave a nod, his gaze taking in the familiar surroundings, recalling the last time he had been here with his parents years ago. Layla led him to the dining room, where Dario and Claudia, Rosetta's brother and mother, were already seated. Claudia stood as Antonio approached, her expression softening with nostalgia.
"Oh, Antonio," Claudia murmured, her voice warm as she enveloped him in a hug. She placed her hands on either side of his face, examining him as though looking for traces of the boy she remembered. Antonio tolerated the motherly gesture out of respect; Claudia had been his late mother's closest friend, the nearest thing he had to a maternal figure. "You've grown into a fine young man," she praised, releasing him. Antonio gave her a faint smile as he took his seat, Dario following suit.
Claudia invited Luca to join them at the table, but he politely declined, offering a reserved smile under Antonio's watchful gaze. "Suit yourself," Claudia said with a shrug, before whispering something to the maid, who disappeared upstairs.
"How have you been?" Claudia asked, watching Antonio intently. He gave her a brief smile, though his thoughts were elsewhere. "Fine, ma," he replied, the soft address surprising her. Claudia had expected Antonio to have softened over the years, yet he remained as guarded and unreadable as ever, hardened by the events that had marked his past.
His gaze flickered to Luca, who stood by his side. Taller now and with a steely presence, Luca had been Antonio's shadow since childhood. Their mutual understanding and fierce loyalty often led others to mistake them for brothers.
Claudia pressed on, asking about his recent stay in Mexico, to which Antonio replied curtly, "It went well, ma." Understanding he wasn't in the mood to elaborate, she redirected her questions to Luca, who gave short answers but with a more polite tone. Eventually, after much insistence, Luca reluctantly joined them at the table.
As they spoke, footsteps echoed down the staircase, and the conversation halted as all eyes turned to the figure descending the steps. Antonio's gaze settled on her, and he felt a slight shift in his usually steely composure. Rosetta was more beautiful than he remembered, her presence commanding his attention. She had grown from the girl he vaguely recalled into a striking woman, her elegance and strength evident in the way she moved.
Rosetta felt a wave of emotions seeing Antonio again, memories flashing through her mind of when she was younger, innocent, and unaware of the world she had been born into. Now, faced with the man who was to be her future husband, a mixture of fear, resentment, and defiance stirred within her. Her heart ached as thoughts of Enzo flashed through her mind, contrasting with the image of Antonio, who exuded a power and authority that both intimidated and intrigued her.
"Rosetta," Claudia introduced, gesturing for her to join them at the table. She took her seat with poise, yet Antonio could see a flicker of unease in her eyes. He felt a surge of satisfaction knowing she recognized the authority he carried, yet he was also intrigued by the defiance he saw flickering behind her composed facade.
The dinner proceeded with polite conversation, but underlying tensions simmered beneath the surface. Antonio observed Rosetta intently, studying her reactions, her expressions. She maintained an air of politeness, though he sensed her discomfort, her desire to resist the future that had been laid out for her. But Antonio was resolute; he had chosen her not only to fulfill his family's legacy but because he saw in her a strength and resilience that complemented his own.
"Why not hold the wedding this month?" Claudia's suggestion hung in the air like a spark igniting dry kindling. The shockwaves rippled through the room, catching everyone off guard, especially Rosetta. At the very mention of moving up the wedding date, she felt as if the floor had dropped away beneath her. She froze, her heart racing as anxiety coiled tightly in her chest. Antonio, acutely aware of her reaction, remained silent, his gaze fixed on her. Luca, sensing the heavy tension and his boss's unexpected reticence, stepped in with a supportive tone. "Any time is fine by us, ma," he said, his words lightening the atmosphere enough for Claudia to beam with excitement.
Claudia's enthusiasm stemmed from her belief that Antonio deserved someone who could help him heal from his past, and in her mind, Rosetta was the perfect candidate. She imagined a future where Rosetta could bring light into his life, helping him navigate his emotional scars. However, unbeknownst to her, Antonio was not the only one with hidden depths.
As he observed Rosetta, Antonio couldn't help but notice the gloom that had settled on her features and the telltale puffiness around her eyes—a clear indication of sleepless nights spent wrestling with her emotions. He could only guess that her distress was tied to the troubling sight he had witnessed days earlier, a vision that lingered uninvited in his mind.
The silence grew heavy, almost unbearable, until Rosetta finally found her voice. "I don't want to marry him." Her declaration was steady, firm, yet it felt like a bombshell in the quiet room. Antonio continued to eat calmly, his demeanor unaffected, but internally he was intrigued by the sudden defiance. Rosetta's family was taken aback; she had always been the compliant daughter, and they had expected her to fit neatly into the role they had planned for her.
Dario, her protective older brother, shot her a hard look, disbelief etched across his face. "What did you just say, Rose?" he demanded, giving her one last chance to retract her statement. But Rosetta, fueled by a mix of fear and determination, held her ground. "I don't want to marry him," she repeated, her voice unwavering, almost daring him to challenge her.
The table fell into a profound silence, punctuated only by the soft clinking of Antonio's fork against the plate. His calm demeanor in the face of such rebellion was puzzling for everyone present. He was not a man who reacted impulsively; his upbringing had instilled in him the value of patience, observation, and understanding. Yet, he found himself captivated by Rosetta's unexpected bravery and the storm brewing behind her fierce eyes.
Finally, breaking the tension, Antonio addressed her with a deep, smooth voice that seemed to resonate in the quiet room. "Rosetta." She looked up, startled by the softness in his tone. "You said you don't want to marry me?" The intensity of his gaze weighed heavily upon her, each word echoing in her mind like a challenge.
"I...yes...I," Rosetta stammered, struggling to maintain her composure under his scrutinizing stare. Antonio's smirk deepened as he watched her falter, the contrast of her nervousness against his calm demeanor almost amusing. But as she steadied herself, she mustered the courage to speak more boldly. "Yes, I don't want to marry you. I love someone else... someone I want to spend my life with."
The admission hit the room like a thunderclap. Antonio's insides churned with a storm of anger and hurt, yet he maintained an expression of serene neutrality. Only Luca, privy to the subtle nuances of Antonio's emotions, noticed the slight twitch of his jaw—a telltale sign of the brewing tempest within. "Alright, Rosetta," Antonio replied, his voice unexpectedly gentle. "I won't force you into something you don't want. Your happiness matters to me." The sincerity in his response stunned everyone, especially Rosetta. She searched his face for any hint of insincerity, yet found none. Overcome with relief, she acted on impulse and embraced him, the warmth of the moment enveloping her.
Antonio stiffened at the unfamiliar closeness, but quickly masked his surprise, maintaining the facade of calm. He excused himself from the table, leaving without another word, but as he walked away, the mask slipped for just a moment, revealing a glint of something darker in his eyes. *I always get what I want,* he thought, the resolve hardening within him. *And if I want Rosetta, I will have her.* His steps slowed as he began to strategize how he would address her rebellion.
Back at the DeLuca home, an electric tension crackled in the air, each family member caught in their own turmoil. "What did you just do, Rose?" Dario asked, disbelief clouding his expression as he struggled to comprehend her boldness. Claudia sat in stunned silence, torn between relief for her daughter's courage and a rising fear for her safety. She knew Antonio was a man who rarely let go of what he desired and feared he had merely underestimated his resolve.
"Exactly what you saw, brother," Rosetta replied, defiant joy lighting up her face despite the chaos that surrounded her. Dario's frustration bubbled over, and without a word, he stormed out of the room, needing space to process his sister's audacity.
Claudia turned to Rosetta, her voice low and laced with concern. "I'm convinced you've lost your senses, Rose. How could you tell Antonio you loved someone else?" The gravity of her words weighed heavily on Rosetta, and the smile that had previously brightened her face faded as the harsh reality set in. "Even if Antonio claims the marriage is off, do you think I'll allow you to marry Enzo?"
Rosetta's happiness crumbled into shock and disbelief. "Why, Mother? You told me to speak to him about my concerns!" she retorted, her voice tinged with betrayal. Claudia exchanged a troubled glance with Dario, exhaling in frustration at the unfolding drama.
"Well, you'll have to explain everything to your father when he returns," Claudi
Rosetta's defiance flared again, a fire igniting in her spirit. "Since when did you hate Enzo so much?" she shot back, the challenge hanging in the air.
"I never liked him, and I tried for your sake, Rose," Claudia replied, disappointment coloring her voice. "But now I see he's leading you astray. You're destined for Antonio, not someone like Enzo."
"Why do you always put him above me, Mother?" Rosetta asked, her voice breaking under the weight of her emotions. "I understand he's your friend's son, but I'm your daughter. You should care about me and not him!" With that, she stormed off to her room, the sound of her footsteps echoing with a mix of frustration and anguish. Claudia was left standing there, her heart heavy with the burden of familial loyalty and the complexities of love, the chasm between them widening as the storm outside mirrored the turmoil within.