Damiano

I never imagined this moment would arrive so soon.

I always believed I would be prepared to handle it. One of the reasons I accepted the future position as the next Boss was the chance to influence my sister's choice of a life partner. Yet, it seems I must address this matter before officially assuming the role.

Two months provide ample time to devise a plan.

"Don't share what you overheard. Look at me!" I grasp her hand, and she meets my gaze. "I will find a solution." She nods and wipes away her tears.

"I don't know what to do , Dam… I don't want to marry… I want to be free! " She speaks with a voice that quivers.

" Though, helping me will undoubtedly cause you trouble." Rosa regains her composure, and I observe her.

"Just leave it to me. Keep your lips sealed. Got it?" I withdraw my hand and gently sweep aside a strand of her short hair that had been annoyingly drifting around her eye.

I understand her nature well—rebellious and blunt. Many people see her as invulnerable, but they make a crucial mistake. Everyone has a weak spot, and hers is a fear of those who take lives—the fear of being killed.

Essentially, she is frightened of all individuals associated with the mafia. The fear of losing her freedom falls into the same category, ironically. If someone else, who doesn't resort to killing, were to restrict her freedom, she wouldn't be afraid to resist.

Salvatore is one of the worst matches for her. Not only is he ruthless, but he is also a sadist. Imagine my sweet Rosa sleeping with him—a nightmare. And her being restrained by him… another nightmare.

"Don't dictate my actions! Damn you…" She frowns, and I know she is masking her gratefulness with anger.

"Yeah, however you put it." I stand up and look at her with a smile. "Sleep here. It's already late. Make yourself at home…" She gives a short smile and covers herself with the blanket.

"Good night…" She mumbles. I glance at the human form under my blanket and close the door.

"Good night ."

I feel like stones are pressing down on my shoulders, making me shrink beneath them. Worry—that will likely be the cause of my death. Funny, but true. If I don't worry about my sisters, then who will? Father is out of the question. Maybe Mom would have, but not anymore. This responsibility falls on me.

I decide to take a bath and retire early. The clock on the wall hits 8. Tomorrow is bound to be a lengthy day. I'll need to divide the recruits into two groups.

My body feels refreshed as I wrap the towel around my torso. The scar on my belly captures my attention. Memories rewind in my head.

My best friend wanted to kill me out of greed. He felt envious of me. I offered him a fair chance to face me. My reluctance to harm him, driven by our past, resulted in this scar.

Then, I comprehended the folly of acting based on emotions. Feelings can indeed prove fatal. Proof, integrity, loyalty—that's what should bind people. Feelings are futile and can easily numb your mind.

In our world, a weak man is one who acts based on emotions. The same goes for girls. The same will go for my wife. No one is an exception for me.

Of course, feelings have their place—in the ordinary world. Not in a mafia realm where a single misstep can be lethal.

I brush my hand over the scar and sigh—a lesson learned the hard way.

The night view paints a picture of lights and shadows, tall buildings, narrow streets, cars bustling on the main road, and people rushing about. When Franco visits, he might call it a jungle, but to me, it feels familiar—a safe danger. Perfect.

The sun is on the verge of rising, and I bury my face in the blanket when Rosa kicks the door open.

"Rise and shine!" Her smile is brighter than the sun, and I feel compelled to shield my eyes. This is one of the reasons why it's good to live alone, especially when you have a sister who is an early riser -a rooster . I can't say I missed her waking me up. That's why the countryside isn't for me. I hate waking up early, a fact I'm reminded of as Rosa chides me.

"The clock… Rosa, the clock…" I mumble, pulling the blanket over my face.

"It's late! You need to wake up!You're wasting your life sleeping. I can't believe you sleep this late when you're living alone!" She genuinely looks concerned as I steal a glance at her from the corner of my eye.

"What's the time ?" I mumble once more, knowing she's exaggerating since the sun hasn't even risen a palm above the horizon.

"It is already 6! I overslept a little today…" I sit up, looking at her in exasperation. She seems embarrassed about oversleeping by an hour.

"I'll rise and shine . Go… I need to get dressed." I cast a brief look at the blanket enveloping my lower half. Fortunately, she didn't tug at it. The towel left hanging on the chair serves as evidence of what lies beneath the blanket. It's a relief she didn't grasp the implicit meaning of "rise and shine." That's a novice for you.

"I will go buy some pizza!" She bounces out on one foot and the other, her slightly curly dark hair swinging with her movements. Is she too energetic? At twenty-eight, does one jump like an excited bunny over pizza?

Is she too innocent? Is it a good thing for her to be this innocent?

Sigh… I don't know. At least she's better than last night. I will try protecting this innocence and Salvatore will pay for this sooner or later. I think he did this to spite me anyway. Once I told him my sisters would never fall into his hands.

We sit at the counter separating the living room and kitchen. She's in front of me, biting into a slice of pizza. I don't want to imagine the expressions of the people who sold her the pizza. She might have frightened them. Even though her skills with guns, fighting, or knives are nonexistent, her energy intimidates people. Good enough. She proves that she is from a mafia family. Bloodline is scarily accurate, whether you want it or not.

"This is tasty!" Rosa takes the third slice of pizza when I just bite into my second slice. Good for her… But I feel she wastes food. She is way too slim for the amount she consumes. I will keep this thought to myself .

"Are you going home, or do you want to stay in my apartment? Today I have work with the Boss." She frowns, still thinking about what to do.

"I will go home…" Her mood drops, and her chowing becomes slower. Her eyes look absently at the three slices of pizza left on the plate.

"Rosa, do you know who he talked to on the phone?" I didn't ask her many questions last night because she was unable to respond. But now, I have to know some details. If my father talked to Salvatore, then I expect him to visit Rosa beforehand or even claim her faster.

"It was Salvatore…" Rosa locks eyes with me, and I know why she felt so scared last night. She knows as much as I do that that man, when you give him a hand, he will want your leg too.

I think Franco heard about this too. My father rarely makes a decision without announcing it to him first and talking about it. After all, that was a consigliere's part.

"I want you to keep calm and avoid leaving the house too often. I will assign you a bodyguard just in case Salvatore crosses the line." I sip some water from the glass she put on the counter a few minutes ago. She stretches her hand to take the glass and sips a mouthful too.

"I hate the idea, but I will keep my mouth shut. I already put you in this mess." She cracks a smile and leans back on her chair. "Who is the unlucky man?"

I smirk, choosing to keep my mouth shut—not because I want to surprise her, but because I have no idea who to assign as her bodyguard.

"You will see."

"Nothing more can surprise me…" She smiles as she starts to clean the counter and wash the plate. Glancing at me, I offer her a short smile.

I leave the apartment and head to the recruits' apartment. Today, I will see Amara, and I can't be more excited about it. To think I will hold the reins in separating her from that guy makes me feel satisfied for some reason.

I knock on the door, and no one responds. The watch on my wrist shows 8, and I start to wonder if they stayed up all night watching TV. I lose my patience after the third knock, and my hand presses the handle. It's not locked; these guys really think they are invincible.

Precaution should not be a shame. But I guess they are just forgetful. I will leave them be. They should learn the consequences on their own skin.

I step inside, and the smell of booze hits my nose. That's not the only thing assaulting my senses. My eyes are struck by the overall mess in the living room. A blond girl, if I remember correctly, her name started with Bi—Bibi or something similar- is sleeping on the couch, buried in clothes and crumbs on her belly. She flinches when she senses my presence and, in a blink, points a gun at me.

"Who are you?" She blinks, confused, and a small frown appears on her forehead. A hair strand covers one of her cheeks.

I choose silence and drag a chair within reach. I sit down, pull out my phone, and type Nicolas' phone number.

She notices the gun I have in the gear I wear underneath my unzipped jacket. After putting her gun down, she sprints to her room. It's good to have sharp senses; she must have realized I could have killed her and that I'm probably sent by Franco to initiate them.

"Yes, boss!" Nicolas' voice fills my ear. His raspy voice is a waste now since he doesn't date any girls since his 'princess' was killed.

"Where are you?" I try not to sound pissed off; it was Rosa's fault I came earlier.

"I will be there."

"Good." I end the call and start to examine the surroundings. Besides the mess, I wanted to see Amara, but she seems to be asleep.

A thought crosses my mind. What if I wake her up? Today I experienced it firsthand, so giving the experience to someone else seems to satisfy me a lot. Considering that I will get to see her asleep, the satisfaction level hits pretty high in my anticipation thoughts.