Marcello’s POV

I tapped the table, leaning back on my seat as I stared at my father, Andrea De Luca. “You asked for a meeting with me. What was so urgent that you couldn’t say on the phone?”

“Family,” my dad said staring at me.

I sighed. “What about family?”

“Sposare—“

I arched an eyebrow. Not again. This was the nth time he was bringing up me getting married this year.

“Father, I do owe you loyalty but I am not your slave,” I said at once.

“You are twenty-five years old and you are not getting any younger. You are the most feared and most powerful leader of this Mafia family. If I didn’t get married and your mother didn’t bear you, the legacy would have been cut short,” my dad said and sipped his whiskey. “I want you to get married as soon as possible and give me an heir to continue this legacy.”

I quickly got up from my seat. “I thought I made it clear to you, father. I’m not getting married.”

Marriage was overrated and I wasn’t ready to settle for it. Where was my mother when I needed her?

“Then, I will have no choice but to strip you of your position and have Roberto take your place,” my dad threatened.

I smacked my lips. “I am not getting married and Roberto is not taking my place,” I snapped and began to leave.

“I am your father and you’ll not disobey me,” my dad yelled, banging the desk.

I came to a pause and ran my hand through my hair. “I do not intend to disobey you, father.”

“In that case, I expect you to bring me a lady you plan to marry.”

“May I take my leave?” I asked.

“Yes, you may,” my dad paused. “Bring a girl to me, Marcello. I give you only thirty days.”

I walked away.

—

I sat in a secluded room in my favorite clubhouse in New York.

“Your father is a hell of a guy,” Michael an associate began to say.

“What do you want?” I questioned. I wasn’t ready for his chitchat. I needed him to go straight to the point.

“I do not want to lose that building,” Michael explained. “I want the building to be mortgaged—“

Immediately, one of my soldiers walked in. He approached me and whispered in my ear. There was a commotion going on outside. An insider must have leaked my whereabouts to my rival—the Irish Mafia Family. I looked at Michael.

“What’s going on?” he questioned.

I grabbed him by the suit. “Who knew you were meeting up with me?”

“I swear, no one but my people,” he said, tensed. I could hear his heartbeat pounding.

I let go of his suit and picked up my mask. “Take him with you. Our worst enemy will soon show up, so everyone better find a way to get out of here without drawing attention. As for you soldiers, don’t let those idiots hurt anyone in this clubhouse,” I instructed while putting on my mask. “Follow me, Taylor.”

I left the room and arrived at the club room where the party was supposed to be going on but I met a ruckus. People were trying to flee the scene, while there were gunshots at different directions. I caught sight of a man in a mask pointing a gun at a lady. I quickly rushed in front of her and got shot in the process. I sighed in pain.

“Don!” the shooter called in awe and quickly ran off.

I could feel her presence behind me. If she continued standing there, she’d be risking her life. Not like I cared about her, but I didn’t want anyone to get hurt because of me.

“What are you waiting for?” I growled, not glancing at her.

She ran off.

“Boss,” Taylor said approaching me. “I need to get you out of here.”

“Don’t worry about me. I need you to find the scumbag who shot me,” I instructed.

“But Don, you are bleeding,” he argued.

“I’ll be fine,” I said gritting my teeth. “Go.”

“Yes, boss,” he nodded and ran off.

A sharp, searing pain tore through my side as I stumbled toward the door, every step a battle against gravity. Blood soaked through my suit, warm and relentless. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself forward. No time to collapse. Not here.

I made it outside, slipping into the shadows behind the building. The cold wall bit into my back as I leaned against it, vision swimming.

With a shaky hand, I reached into my jacket and pulled out my phone, smearing blood across the screen as I dialed.

“E-Enzo,” I gritted out, breath ragged. “Get a car. Now. Bring men. I’ve been hit… back of the building.”

The line clicked, my head tipping back against the bricks.

I just had to hold on until they came.

Then I heard her.

"Camilla, come on!" the girl’s voice rang out. Urgent. Panicked. "We have to get out of here. It’s not safe!"

But the other one didn’t move.

“He’s dying!”

Her voice cut through the chaos. Fierce. Stubborn. Stupid.

I didn’t look at her. I could already feel her presence moving toward me. Defiance in every step. She dropped to her knees beside me, ripping a piece of fabric from her dress. Designer, I noticed. Expensive.

Blood soaked it instantly.

“Deep breaths,” she said, like I took orders from anyone.

“Leave,” I rasped. My voice came out weaker than I intended, but the steel was still there. “Now.”

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t retreat.

“I’m trying to keep you alive,” she snapped, hands working fast, unbothered by the blood. “You can either let me do my job or die being stubborn.”

Stubborn?

I almost laughed. Almost.

I grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer, eyes locking with hers.

“If you stay… they’ll kill you too.” My voice was low, heavy with warning. “They’re after me. You’re in danger just by breathing the same air.”

And still, she didn’t leave.

Foolish. Brave. Both.

I shoved her back, hard. Not to hurt her—just to make her leave. I didn’t need her compassion. I needed to survive.

“You’re being ridiculous,” she insisted, voice hardening.

Maybe. But emotion was a liability I couldn’t afford. She didn’t understand that.

“Don!”

Three of my men appeared through the shadows, eyes wide at the sight of me bleeding.

“The car’s ready.”

I pushed off the wall, every movement fire and pain, and barked through clenched teeth, “Get me out of here.”

There was no room for weakness. Not in my world. Not ever.

We got into the car.

“Boss, we can’t rush you to the hospital like this. It’ll draw the FBI attention to us. Enzo said he’s looking for a doctor that can take out the bullet—“

My hand held on to the piece of clothe on where I was shot and I sighed in pain.

All of a sudden I realized something was missing.

I felt my neck. It was gone. No fucking way. “Stop the car.”

“Boss, the FBI will soon be here,” Taylor informed. “And we need to rush you home—“

“I said stop the car,” I said, hoarsely. I didn’t have any iota of strength to scream.

Immediately, the car came to a stop.

“I misplaced my necklace. I need you to find it,” I commanded. “Check the last place I was at.”

“Yes, boss,” he said and got out of the car.

I waited for him for more than thirty minutes but he didn’t show up. I wondered if the FBI had showed up and arrested him.

“He’s back, boss,” Drake said, opening the door.

“I found it, boss,” he said, getting into the car. “And I found something else.”

I collected the necklace. Thank goodness.

“What else did you…” I began losing consciousness.

“Boss,” Drake called, tapping my hand. “Don.”

Darkness engulfed me.