Ariella's POV

My head was still aching from a night of restless sleep. The morning light cut through the heavy curtains, spilling onto the marble floor in golden stripes.

And the unfamiliar softness of the bed beneath me felt strange, as if it belonged to someone else.

I blinked as I scanned through the entire room. It was spotless, lavish, and suffocating at the same time, everything about this place screamed of wealth and power. The walls were decorated with gilded frames, and paintings of men in dark suits staring at me as if it knew somebody was inside.

Then I realized that I wasn't at home.

The air was filled with the smell of leather and something sharp. Guards stood in the shadowed hallways outside, their rifles polished, eyes alert. They were smart, cautious and accurate. They existed only to remind me that I was trapped.

I got up from the bed slowly, my toes brushing against the cold marble floor. I moved to the window, the sea stretching beyond the iron gates. Waves crashing violently, a rhythm of chaos that mirrored the pounding of my heart.

After some seconds, a knock at the door made me shiver and it brought me out of my thoughts. One of the guards stepped inside. His black eyes met mine, he never smiled. His expression looked serious.

“The Don will be with you anytime soon. Until then, stay in your quarters. Don't go anywhere.”

“Okay,” I whispered with a faint voice, barely loud enough for him to hear.

He nodded once, then left. The door clicked shut behind him, and silence took over the place again.

I sat back on the bed, trying to breathe. My mind refused to stay calm. I thought about Luciana, about the switch, about Vincenzo….. his presence haunted me. I could still feel it in my bones. The raw, dangerous energy of him standing on those marble steps, his tattoos coiling over his chest and arms like dark fire.

He wasn’t just a man. He was powerful himself. And I found myself standing inside it.

Hours passed as I paced inside the room, trying to calm my nerves. I didn’t know what would happen next until a soft knock came on the door.

When I opened the door, a young lady, maybe in her early twenties, walked in. She is beautiful.

Her black hair was pulled into a neat bun, a few loose strands falling against her soft cheeks. She wore a simple white blouse tucked into a pair of tight denim shorts that clung to her hips. The shorts were so short that she was almost naked and her blouse neckline hung too low.

It didn’t take long to realize she wasn’t dressed that way by choice. She looked like someone that is being used as a plaything. She looked innocent. Her smile was warm and gentle as if she was using it to hide her exhaustion.

Her eyes, deep brown and tired, held a softness I hadn’t seen since I left home.

“Good morning Angel. Don Moretti invites you for supper,” she said quietly, her voice smooth but careful. “Please, follow me.”

There was kindness in the way she spoke. I nodded, almost whispering, “Thank you.”

I followed her down the long marble hallway, my heart beating loud in my chest, the faint scent of perfume mixed with cigarette smoke hit my nose. She looked back, her lips curved into that same warm smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“You’ll be fine,” she murmured softly, like a secret meant only for me.

But I didn't have to believe her.

The dining hall was large, with a long table that could host an army. Vincenzo sat at one end, dressed in black suit. His gray eyes met mine the moment I entered. Marco sat beside him, playing with a knife like a child as if it was a toy. And at the center was Don Moretti himself. Their father.

His eyes were cold, sharp, and dangerous, the kind of eyes that saw right through lies.

“Sit,” Vincenzo said.

I sat down, my hands shaking slightly under the table. The silence between us was thick.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Marco said, a smirk showing at his lips. “I thought the Romano princess that I know had a sharper tongue.”

My heart skipped. I could see the suspicion in their face. “There’s a time to speak,” I managed to say, forcing Luciana’s arrogance into my voice, “and a time to keep quiet and observe.”

Don Moretti gave a short, humorless laugh that I could tell it didn't reach his heart.

“Hmm. Observation is good. But the Luciana I know doesn’t observe, she bites.”

I froze, pretending to sip my wine. My palms were soaked with sweat.

Vincenzo’s eyes never left me. He studied me every second, like a hawk studying its prey.

“You’re eating like you’ve never seen a table before.”

I swallowed hard.“I’m not hungry.”

Marco’s grin widened.

Their laughter came like slow poison, creeping under my skin. I tried to act stubborn, lifting my chin the way my sister always did. “Maybe I’ve changed,” I muttered.

The Don’s knife clinked against his glass. “People like us don’t change. We only hide.”

The air was so thick that I couldn't stay there anymore. My heart raced in my chest and I pushed the plate slightly away. “Excuse me,” I said, I stood up quickly. “I don’t feel well. I want to go and ease myself.”

I turned to leave, but I could feel Vincenzo’s eyes following me like a shadow. I barely made it to my room when I heard the sound of footsteps behind me, fast and angry.

“You think you can fool everybody huh?”

I froze.

He followed me inside my room. The storm in his eyes made my knees weak.

“I want you to tell me why you’re pretending?” he demanded.

“What do you mean I'm pretending?,” I lied, trying to sound defiant, to sound like Luciana like I didn't know he meant.

“Really?” He pulled his phone from his pocket, tapped the screen, and turned it toward me. My breath caught.

Luciana’s picture showed on the screen, her confident smile, her fiery eyes.

My voice broke. “I……”

He cut me off sharply. “Don’t speak. You think I wouldn’t know the difference? The woman in this picture would never lower her eyes. She would never show weakness in front of anyone.”

His voice caught Don Moretti and Marco's attention on the dinning. Immediately they stepped inside. Vincenzo showed them the picture.

I stepped back, my heart pounding like a drum. I thought he was going to bounce on me but he never did. “Please, I…..”

Before I could finish, Marco lunged forward. His hand gripped my hair so hard it burned. I screamed, my knees hitting the marble floor as he began to hit me.

“You little liar!” he snarled, yanking harder. “You think you can fool the Morettis, huh?”

“Marco, stop!” Vincenzo shouted with a loud voice that vibrated through the room, but Marco didn’t listen. His hand flew across my face, the slap resounding through the room.

I gasped, the pain spreading like fire through my cheek. Don Moretti just quietly at the doorway, watching. But there was no shock in his eyes. Only cold amusement.

“Enough!” Vincenzo’s voice roared again like thunder. He grabbed Marco by the collar and pulled him off me, shoving him against the wall.

“Touch her again, and I’ll break your damn neck,” he growled, his eyes burning with anger.

Marco jerked away, breathing hard. “You’re getting soft, bro. She’s just a Romano brat. And she deserved death for trying to fool.”

“Leave!” Vincenzo snapped.

Marco spat on the floor and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Don Moretti stepped closer to Vincenzo, his face looking disappointed. “You disappoint me, Vincenzo,” he said, his tone sharp as a knife. “This isn’t what I taught you. Weakness will ruin you.”

Vincenzo turned slowly, his voice low but firm. “She’s not the one who planned this. It’s her parents. And they’ll pay for the betrayal. We’ll return her quietly.”

Don Moretti stared at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded and walked away, while I lay on the floor, tears burning in my eyes.

Ariella’s POV

Pain was the first thing I felt when I opened my eyes.

It burned across my shoulder through my back as if I was thrown into fire . Every breath I took sent a sting through my body.

The memory of the beating came rushing back. Marco’s anger, his hands grabbing my hair, dragging me down, the sound of his palm against my cheek.

His words were still echoing in my head. “You little liar!”

I tried to sit up, but the pain in my ribs made me mourn. The room was quiet now. The heavy footsteps and shouting had faded. Only the soft tick of a clock filled the air.

Vincenzo was still standing by the door.

His gray eyes looked colder than steel, but there was something else beneath them. Something I couldn’t name. Guilt maybe, or anger……

He didn’t say a word. He just looked at me, his jaw tight, the veins in his hand visible.

Finally, his voice came out low. “Are you hurt?”

I didn’t answer. I was shaking in pains.

He turned slightly toward the door and called,“Elena.”

His voice vibrated through the room with command. Moments later, the same girl who had come to take me for supper appeared in the doorway. She still wore that same faint, practiced smile.

“Clean her wounds,” Vincenzo said sharply. “Make sure she’s fine.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied quietly.

Then he left, the door closing behind him.

Elena walked closer to where I was lying, carrying a small first aid box with a small bowl of warm water, some ointment, and a clean towel. She knelt beside the bed and the smell of her perfume, faint and floral filled the room.

“You need to take off your blouse,” she said gently. “You’re bleeding.”

I hesitated. My hands shook as I unbuttoned the top part, groaning in pain as the fabric touched the raw skin on my shoulder. Elena gasped softly when she saw the bruises.

“Oh, sorry dear,” she whispered. “He hit you harder than I thought.”

Her voice was shaking slightly, as if the pain she saw wasn’t just mine, it was something she had known too many times herself.

She dipped the towel inside the water and pressed it against my back. The sting was unbearable. I screamed with a loud voice, grabbing the bedsheet tight.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said quickly, her hands shaking. “I’ll take it easier this time. Just a little more, okay?”

Tears rolled down my cheeks as she cleaned the wounds. The silence between us felt heavy, filled with something unseen, something dark.

When she finished, she reached for the ointment and began to rub it carefully on the bruises. Her touch was light, but her eyes looked tired like someone remembering old pain.

“What’s your name?” I managed to ask, with a faint voice.

She paused for a moment, then said softly, “Elena.”

“How long……How long have you been in this terrible place?”

Her hand stopped. Then she sighed. “Five years.”

Tears started falling from her eyes. “My father owed Don Moretti a debt. A huge amount of money. He tried to pay it back, but he couldn’t. And Don Moretti forced him to pay with what he has.”

My breath caught. “And they… took you?”

She nodded slowly, her voice breaking. “They said if he couldn’t pay with money, he would pay with his daughter, and that was me.”

My stomach twisted. “And he didn’t come for you?”

A single tear fell down her cheek. “He tried. But they killed him.”

The words hit me like a knife and I became terrified.

She continued, her tone low and shaking. “Since then, I’ve been here. Doing whatever they ask. Cleaning. Serving. And warming their bed. I stopped counting the days a long time ago.”

They turned me into their plaything. Don Moretti, Vincenzo and Marco would sleep with me anytime and anywhere. But Vincenzo stopped, he showed a sign of weakness sometimes.

Many girls who fell the same victim with me, and refused to obey or proved to be stubborn were killed in our front. Just to frighten us.

My heart ached for her. She was young, maybe a little older than me yet her eyes looked like someone who had lived a hundred lives.

She wiped her face quickly, forcing a smile on her face.“You shouldn’t ask too many questions, Ariella. It’s dangerous.”

“But why? Why are you still here? Why didn't you run?”

She gave a small, bitter laugh. “Run? How? There’s nowhere to go. This house doesn’t let people leave. Not alive, at least.”

My throat tightened.

The ones who tried to fight back or escape…” she trailed off, shivering. “They made sure the rest of us saw what happens to those who don’t obey.”

I could feel her pain more than the one I had.

She pressed the towel one last time on my shoulder, making me mourn in pain again. “You’re lucky he stopped Marco,” she whispered.

“Vincenzo…… he’s unlike his father but Marco, he's the worst. He never wasted time to kill whenever his father gave orders. But yet Don Moretti liked Vincenzo more than Marco.

I frowned through the pain. “Then why doesn’t he stop them?”

Elena gave a sad, hopeless smile. “Because mercy in this house is weakness. And weakness is punished.”

I looked down at my hands shaking, anger and fear twisting inside me. If only Luciana knew the pain I'm passing through here. She wouldn't have brought the idea of switching with me. She should have thought about another solution.

She looked at me with wide, frightened eyes. You have to be careful Ariella, they won't waste time in killing you.

Vincenzo’s POV

Blood.

That was the first thing I saw since I was born, a family full of crime and murder. Trading all kinds of weapons and drugs and always fighting for power.

I was raised in a Mafia family where love meant nothing. Born into the Moretti family, where blood was both our daily activities and our language. My father, Don Moretti, trained us with iron hands and red eyes.

He taught my younger brother Marco and me that love is weakness, that mercy destroys power. I still remember his words that very night when I was ten, standing in front of a man tied to a chair, his shirt was soaked in blood. His brathing was shallow.

Life has almost been stripped out of him.

“Look, Vincenzo,” my father said that night, his voice cold as ice. “This is what happens when you trust too much, people will play and tamper with your life.

You have to kill before you’re killed. You lead with authority and cold eyes, not with love.”

I nodded that night, fear gripped me, but I had to listen and follow his way. I watched as the man begged to live but my father never listened to him. Instead he pulled out his gun and shot him on the head.

The sound broke through the silence. I wanted to leave the room but he refused and forced me to watch him bleed to death.

After that day, I buried my softness deep inside me and built a heart that could not bleed nor threaten.

Marco followed the same path, though he always had more fire in him than I do. Together, we became weapons itself, smart, fearless and strong. We never gave love a chance and were loyal to my father’s empire.

That was the type of life I lived until I met her.

The moment my men brought her into our estate, I knew something was wrong somewhere.

At first, I said nothing. She sat quietly on the bed, her wrists still bearing faint marks from the abduction. Her hair fell in soft waves, and she looked up with frightened eyes that refused to meet mine.

That was the first red flag.

Luciana Romano; the woman I was meant to marry was known for her hot temper. I've had an encounter with her several times before at a business dinner. She spoke like a queen, proud and arrogant.

Her eyes didn’t know fear. She had the kind of arrogance that reminded me of Marco, my brother. But this girl standing in front of me……this one is quite different. She's gentle. Her words are careful. Her body tense. And she looked innocent.

I watched her from across the room, holding a glass of whiskey. Even at supper today with Dad and Moretti. Her softness and the way she was forcing herself to be stubborn could tell that something was wrong.

Even when my Dad mentioned about the marriage, I expected her to challenge him but she never did.

“You don’t look like a woman who's happy to be united with power,” I said finally, testing her.

She paused for a moment before she could speak. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft and careful, “Marriage isn’t happiness. It’s a duty.”

That was when it hit me again. Another red flag.

This wasn’t Luciana Romano. I muttered to myself.

Luciana Romano that I know would have fought back, argued, challenged me. She would have walked in with arrogance, with that fire that's always in her eyes, a sharp tongue ready to cut through any insult. She never believed she could be controlled.

But this girl… she was calm. Gentle. Observant. Too careful.

I became furious the moment I noticed she was the wrong girl. And I decided to “Return her back to her parents. Let her father deal with the lie and face the consequences.”

But until the night I caught her near my office window.

It was past midnight. The mansion was silent except for the low murmurs of guards outside. I heard a faint sound, sounds of footsteps, slow and careful. I looked through my window and there she was. Standing still like she was observing something.

I stepped out of my office immediately and walked close to her. “You have three seconds to explain what you’re doing here by this time.”

Her body began to shake, her eyes wide like a trapped bird. “I……I heard Franco making a call,” she whispered. “He’s selling information about your weapons routes. And they are planning to betray you. She managed to speak.

I stared at her for some seconds, not sure I heard her well. “Franco Bellini? I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.”

She nodded quickly. “Yes. I'm sure. You can go there and confirm it yourself. She added, pointing toward the direction Franco is.”

The anger hit me fast like a bullet. Franco Bellini, my father’s most trusted man. Planning to betray him from within. I could hear the sound of my heartbeat in my ear.

I couldn't afford to waste anytime.I turned sharply toward the hallway. “Stay here,” I snapped. “Don’t move.”

The next minutes were chaos.

I found Franco in the courtyard, whispering into his phone. The murmur was enough for me to hear what he discussed over the phone. “Franco!” I shouted with a loud voice filled with anger.

He turned, startled, immediately, his hand went inside his jacket.

“Don’t you dare!” I warned, raising my gun before he brought his own out. “Not unless you’re ready to die tonight.”

“Don Vincenzo,” he said, his voice shaking, “It’s not what you think…..I was.”

“Save it. I interrupted him”

He moved abruptly, trying to grab his gun from his pocket. I didn’t hesitate. I positioned my gun towards his shoulder and gave him a shot that made him fall.

The shot tore through the still night air, clean and loud. Franco screamed with a loud voice, holding his shoulder as blood poured through his shirt and he fell on the ground.

The noise cut the attention of my guards and they rushed toward the scene, with their weapons raised. “Shouting boss!”

“Take him,” I commanded. “Tie him to the chair in the red room.”

They dragged Franco away, his blood staining the floor as he tried to fight back.

When I turned back, Ariella was still there, watching, standing at the doorway, her face pale as snow.

I walked toward her, still breathing hard, with my gun heavy in my hand.

Her eyes widened, a mix of fear and relief crossing her face. That was the moment I decided to let her stay.

*********

POV Shift

Ariella

By night, I was completely exhausted from Marco's beating, confusion and fear took over me. Sleep refused to come. I dressed quietly and crept toward the study where I had heard the Moretti men moving earlier.

Of course, I was curious to find out what was going on in this estate. Even though I had seen danger here and the beating that almost took my life.

Franco Bellini, one of Vincenzo’s men, was speaking to someone on the phone……his voice was so low that I wondered if the person he was talking to would hear him.

“…yes, yes, the shipment will arrive in Naples tomorrow, three trucks. The route is secure… and no one else should know about this.”

He was sharing secret information about the Moretti weapons route. Planning on how to betray Moretti and take over his wealth.

I pressed myself against the wall, my stomach twisted in knots. Weapons, routes, secrets. This was one of the pieces of information I needed. Proof of crimes the world would never see.

I picked up my jotter from my pocket and began to jot down everything, my hands were shaking from fear. Each word I wrote felt like a thread weaving a trap around me.

The sound of footsteps behind made me jump. My heart slammed against my ribs. And I felt like the ground should open up and swallow me.

“Who’s there? The person shouted with a cold voice.”

I froze in a place. A shadow filled the doorway. Before I could make an attempt to run he was already in my front. I managed to hide my jotter inside my underwear.

It was Vincenzo.

His eyes were sharper than any knife I had ever seen, scanning me. For a moment, I feared he would just bounce on me and beat the life out of me. But he never did.

“What the hell are you doing near my office at this hour?” He asked with a cold voice. His eyes burning with anger.

I was shaking uncontrollably, but I summoned courage to speak. “I… I heard Franco talking with someone on the phone. He was sharing information about the Moretti weapons route and they are planning on betraying you.

He stared at me for a few seconds. Without saying a word. The place became too small. It was as if the wall was closing in on me.

Then, something changed. His expression softened. Just slightly. But his gray eyes were still looking dangerous, confusion filled his face. He scanned the environment and then shifted his eyes back to me.