Antonia presses her little hands to the car window, eyes wide with excitement as tall pines fly past. As the Bruni estate looms ahead, dread coils tight in my chest. Antonia, completely unaware, bounces with excitement beside me.
With flushed cheeks, she turns to me, beaming. “Mommy, we’re going to hide in a real castle! Do you think Daddy will find us?”
I force a reassuring smile to keep her from being scared. “Of course, sweetheart. No matter where we are, Daddy will always find us.”
The car stops in front of the tall iron gates. I look back at the swaying pines and the golden light filtering through the leaves. Birds fly freely overhead. Life goes on, but not for me. Once I step beyond these iron gates, everything will be over.
Without thinking, I pull Antonia into my arms again. I know I can’t protect her, but I’m ready to shield her with my own body if I have to.
As we step out of the car, Antonia freezes at the sight of a row of men. Hesitantly, she clings to my legs. I immediately crouch down and lift her into my arms. My eyes scan the crowd, but I see neither Carlo nor Brando.
Noah, along with a few other men, escorts me to the room where I’m to be held. It’s in the east wing. Even though I lived in this house for nearly two years, this is the first time I’ve stepped foot in this part of the estate. The room is spacious and bright, with a large terrace overlooking the west wing, the place that once housed Carlo’s quarters.
The door clicks shut. I set Antonia down and sink onto the couch, legs shaking. I catch my reflection in the tall mirror. The blood has been wiped from my face, but a lock of my hair is still matted red. Antonia, unbothered by our captivity, happily skips toward the grand bed and begins bouncing on it, her laughter filling the space.
I drop my elbows onto my knees and bury my face in my hands. God, what do I do? Can Tony even reach us here? Deep down, I already know the answer. This is Carlo’s kingdom. His empire absolute. He rules this wild jungle, capable of crushing anyone who dares enter his territory. No matter how much I believe in Tony, I see no way out of this.
The sound of murmurs outside the door snaps me back to attention. I stand just as it swings open.
And then he walks in.
The man who, to me, is the embodiment of death itself.
A group of men follows behind him, and among them, I recognize Noah, Maxim, Carlo’s right-hand man, and his brother, Brando. My heart pounds against my ribs. Antonia, startled by the unfamiliar and imposing figures, rushes toward me. I push her behind my legs and place a protective hand on her head.
Carlo’s eyes linger on Antonia for a moment before locking onto me, cold and unreadable. He looks nothing like the man I remember. The brutish, shaved-head thug is gone. In his place stands a polished man in a crisp white shirt, dark hair neatly styled, black tattoos peeking from his open collar. His appearance may be sharper, more polished, but the aura of danger surrounding him has only intensified.
His hands hang relaxed at his sides as a slow, triumphant smirk curves his lips. “Welcome home, dear Lucia.”
My throat is so dry I can’t swallow. I just stare at him and pull Antonia closer, arms locked around her.
Carlo has always been the most terrifying man I’ve ever known. But today, with pure hatred burning in his eyes, even my worst nightmares feel like child’s play.
Antonia clings tighter to my leg, her small voice shaking. “Mommy…who are these people?”
I look down at her, forcing a tearful smile. “They’re part of the game, sweetheart. Remember? We’re playing.”
The mischief that usually lights up her face has dimmed, replaced by a fragile innocence laced with fear. It makes my heart ache. My eyes sting with the threat of tears.
She nods slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m scared of them.”
“I’m here, baby. Don’t be scared.”
I sense someone stepping closer and whip my head around in alarm.
Brando crouches down, his voice warm and friendly as he addresses my daughter. “Hey there, little one. Do you know who I am?”
Antonia shakes her head silently.
Brando smiles gently. “My name’s Brando. I’m your uncle.”
Maybe it’s the softness in his tone or the easygoing look on his face, but some of Antonia’s natural curiosity flickers back to life.
“I already have an uncle. His name is Fabiano and he’s going to be a doctor.” She giggles, still half-hidden behind me. “He has blonde hair and blue eyes like you. You’re pretty too.”
“Your charm keeps breaking new records every day, Brando,” Maxim smirks.
Brando ignores Maxim and looks back at Antonia. “Fabiano is your mom’s brother. I’m your dad’s brother. We grew up together in this house. You can ask your mom.”
