Chapter 18

Aurora POV

Back home, everything feels unnervingly normal.

Beatrice busies herself with social events, pretending like I don’t exist unless it benefits her while Camilla flits around like a spoiled princess, still acting as if my engagement to Leonardo is some personal slight against her because she hasn’t been able to snag Dominic’s attention.

And my father? Distant. Cold. Indifferent, as always.

The only one who doesn’t look at me like I’m expendable is Stefano. While he isn’t my father, in some ways, he feels more like one than my own blood ever has. He treats me with a patience that none of them do, and as much as I want to ignore it, a small part of me craves that warmth.

Which is why I seek him out the second I arrive home from Dominic’s penthouse, catching him in the study where he sits sipping a late afternoon espresso. As much as I’m relieved to see him, questions start budding in my mind the second I slip the door closed behind me.

“Aurora,” he smiles, setting his cup down. “I was wondering where you’d run off to.”

I lower myself into the seat across from him, tapping my fingers lightly against the polished wood of the armchair before I speak. “I need to ask you something.”

He nods, shifting in his seat to give his full attention to me. “Sure. Anything.”

“Tell me about Dominic’s mother.”

Stefano doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even look surprised by the question. If anything, a glint of sorrow that crosses his expression, like he was expecting this eventually. Had he known I’d inevitably become more friendly with Dominic?

It seems to me that a possibility like that would be too far-fetched to consider. Not simply for the fact of the Guerrero family consisting of a bunch of barely-contained rabid wolves, but also because I wasn’t exactly supposed to be having much contact with the man that would soon become my stepson.

“She was a beautiful woman,” he replies. “Tragic, really, when she passed. She wasn’t built for this life. Not many are.”

“How did she die?”

Stefano laces his fingers together over a knee. “No one knows for certain. Mainly believe she killed herself.”

I frown. “And Dominic? Does he know what really happened?”

“He was just a boy when he lost her, so I doubt it.”

A shadow flickers across his face, but he doesn’t elaborate.

Something that’s been gnawing at the edges of my thoughts ever since the dinner when I officially met both Guerreros. My father had mentioned it in an apology, but never actually specified what happened to cause such a massive miscommunication during that fight with the Russians.

After asking Dominic about it and not getting any straight answers, I’m left to make up conclusions in my head.

“What really happened last year?” I ask. “With the Guerrero family?”

This time, Stefano’s reaction is different.

He stiffens, ever so slightly, but I catch it. I’ve never seen him look so caught off guard before. He’s always been calm and collected, the type of man to think ten steps ahead while his opponents are left fumbling.

Now though, it seems that I’ve somehow stumbled into information he hadn’t at all been expecting to answer for. “That’s not something you should concern yourself with.”

The brush-off is too quick which only makes me more certain that whatever happened wasn’t just some ordinary accident or miscommunication that resulted in deaths on Dominic’s side. It wasn’t some incident where wires got crossed and the message to the Guerrero family—to Dominic’s men—that our soldiers would be late didn’t get delivered.

There’s more to the story and none of it is adding up.

Had my family been targeting Dominic’s people intentionally? Had that message not been sent because they’d wanted Dominic and his men to be going into that fight vulnerable with no back-up to count on coming around to fall back on?

I have no way to verify but that is something I wouldn’t put past my father to plan out. He wasn’t the type to make simple mistakes, especially when it came to allies.

Things like that were never accidents.

I stare at Stefano, my mind racing. “Was it planned?”

His eyes darken, his expression unreadable. “Aurora.”

There’s a quiet warning in his voice, one that tells me I’ve pushed too far. “This is the world of the Mafia. There are questions that are better left unanswered. Knowing too much will get you killed.”

The words sink into my bones, heavier than I expect them to. Unfortunately, no matter how close-knit Stefano acts toward me, no matter how much he pretends to be fatherly, he is still one of my father’s made-men.

Still a man who lives by blood and betrayal, one who knows exactly what happened and chooses to stay silent because it benefits him to do so.

I’ll never be one of them no matter how good I try to play the hand that’s been dealt to me. I’ll never be inside the inner circle, or get the privilege to know things that those around me don’t. That will never be a luxury afforded to me.

If I’m to survive in this world, that’s a hard reality I’m going to have to force myself to swallow.

Dominic POV

The moment Romero found him in his study, Dominic knew what was coming.

Romero didn’t hesitate—didn’t waste time with pleasantries or subtlety. He never did. That’s usually a trait Dominic appreciated in his men.

Today, not so much, however.

“You need to stop getting distracted.”

He sat back in his chair, letting the silence linger in the air while he rolled through Romero’s words. Dominic knew this conversation was inevitable. And yet, hearing it still ignited something ugly inside him.

His second exhaled sharply, irritation bleeding through the cracks of his usually unreadable mask. “She’s making you weak.You’ve started to hesitate around her. You let her overhear things that will get back to her family if she isn’t dealt with. She knows too much.”

Romero wasn’t wrong, Aurora was a problem. But she was his problem to deal with, no one else’s

“You need to kill her, he said flatly. “End it now. Focus on what actually matters: killing your father.”

Dominic’s jaw locked.

The command sat between them, heavy, suffocating, undeniable. A demand from a man who had followed him through hell and back and expected him to do what was necessary in order to further their cause. His most loyal and trusted companion, now coming to him with what was essentially an ultimatum.

Maybe a few months ago Dominic would have agreed.

But now? Something unrecognizable twisted inside him at the thought of putting a bullet between Aurora’s eyes.

“No.”

Romero stiffened, his expression darkening. “No? As in you can’t, or you won’t?”

“You think I’m losing focus?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “Then let me offer you a solution.”

He didn’t miss the way his second’s eyes narrowed, curious.

“We need her alive. The wedding will be the perfect time to kill my father and the rest of his supporters. An event like that will have them all distracted, making it easy to take them out in a quick sweep. No one is going to be armed aside from the few enforcers my father bothers to hire.”

“And then you’ll kill her?” Romero asked.

Dominic shook his head. “Her family needs to take the fall first. If we’re going to be able to wipe out the Caruso family too, we need them to be blamed for the tragedy. That way they’re taken out from all sides, eaten internally by their own paranoia. It will make them easy targets. Those who chose to bow in resignation will be spared, those who don’t will be culled.”

Romero’s lips pressed into a thin line, his posture radiating resistance. He clearly wanted to argue but the fact of the matter was that Dominic had been solidifying this plan for years now. There was nothing that he hadn’t thought of, no small issue he hadn’t already run a thousand scenarios in his head to work around.

This plan would be executed flawlessly because it would be done so by his own hands.

In the end, there was no fight to be had, Dominic’s word would always be final.

And Romero knew it.

“Fine.” He sighed. “So, she stays alive, then, I presume.”

“Yes. For now.”

Aurora’s family would fall, one by one, just like his own.

After that, Dominic would have what he wanted: control over both syndicates. Or rather, what was left of them, anyway.

It would no doubt break Aurora’s heart to watch her family, the ones who treated her so poorly her entire life, die on her wedding day. As tough as she tried to make herself, she would always be a bleeding heart.

She might hate him for it but that wouldn’t change a damn thing. The Mafia wasn’t about mercy, it was about power.

Dominic had spent years clawing his way up, earning his place, proving that he was not a boy to be controlled, but a force to be reckoned with.

And now the moment for his revenge was almost here.