The indulgent warmth on Nero’s face vanished.

He turned slowly, replaced by the cold, ruthless mask of the Underboss.

His dark eyes pinned me, narrowing like a predator assessing a sudden threat.

“Don't play games with me, Siena,” he rumbled, his voice dropping into a dangerous register.

He took a menacing step toward me, a warning in his stride. “Marriage isn't a bargaining chip in our world.”

I kept my hands at my sides, feeling a strange, hollow sense of peace as the fear left me.

“The date is next Saturday,” I said calmly.

I told him the name of the luxury hotel located in neutral territory.

“My dress is already tailored and waiting.”

Nero let out a harsh laugh, his upper lip curling in distaste.

“Did Gia’s wedding scramble your brain?”

He closed the distance between us, using his height to loom over me—a blatant display of dominance.

“This idiocy ends now,” he growled.

“I’ve given you eight years. I’ve given you the best protection in this city.”

He poked a heavy finger against my chest.

“Stop deluding yourself.”

“The formal invitations will be printed and distributed by tomorrow morning,” I replied coldly, unmoved by his posturing.

I had already made the arrangements. A decoy invitation with his name on it would be sent specifically to him to keep him humiliated, while the real ones went to Dante’s sealed territories.

A vein pulsed in his temple, his annoyance curdling into a quiet, terrifying rage.

“You’re being immature and unreasonable.”

His hand shot out, his fingers hooking under my chin, forcing my gaze up to meet his.

“I’m about to be Don,” he hissed. “I won’t be distracted by your petty demands.”

“Are you really that desperate to be possessed by a man?” he snapped.

I stared into the depths of his eyes and could no longer find the boy who once loved me.

He didn't understand my emotional needs, and he never would.

Instead of flinching, I reached up and calmly peeled his fingers off my face.

“Yes,” I admitted. “I want to be a wife.”

Without another word, I turned and walked away.

I stepped into the master bedroom and shut the heavy oak door behind me, locking him out.

I leaned my back against the closed bedroom door and let out a long, slow breath.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of city lights through the windows, casting long shadows.

I walked to the bed and looked down at the nightstand.

A stack of high-end wedding planning magazines sat there, covered in a thin layer of dust.

I remembered the excitement I felt bringing them home, only for Nero to glance at them and casually mention that we weren't in a hurry.

The glossy pages were a bitter mockery now.

I sank onto the edge of the mattress, letting the shadows swallow me.

I thought about the past eight years spent in cold safe houses, waiting for him to come home.

The vibration of my burner phone broke the silence.

I picked it up to find an encrypted message from Gia.

Her text started with a string of creative curses directed at Nero and his secretary.

“My surveillance just confirmed he drove her all the way to her safe house tonight,” Gia wrote, the fury almost burning through the screen.

A second message popped up immediately.

“He’s blind to your loyalty, Siena.”

I stared at the glowing screen, feeling the weight of my best friend’s sympathy.

Then, one more message.

“If it gives you peace, I will release you from our oath to marry in the same week.”

Gia was giving me an out—a way to avoid the rush of a backup plan just to keep a childhood promise.

My fingers hovered over the digital keyboard for a long time.

I thought about the man waiting in the shadows—the ruthless Don who had offered me not just a ring, but a crown.

Don Dante. The head of a rival family. A man who had been waiting for me to see the light.

I steadied my hands and typed back.

“I never break an oath.”

Two days later, Nero moved to an apartment closer to the Syndicate’s legitimate front.

He didn't even tell me he was leaving; he just packed a bag and went.

The next morning, I quietly listed the fortified penthouse we shared for sale.

Using a stack of pre-signed blank authorizations Nero had carelessly left in the study, I bypassed the Syndicate’s internal alarms, ensuring the transaction would remain invisible to him until the funds cleared.

While packing my clothes, I found a black folder in the back of the closet.

It contained highly classified Syndicate documents belonging to Nero.

I knew he needed them for the upcoming territory meetings, and out of ingrained habit, I decided to return them.

I drove across the city to his new safe house.

The hallways of the apartment building were eerily quiet, the lighting dim.

As I reached his door, I stopped.

Muffled laughter drifted through the thin wood.

I recognized the rough voices of Nero’s core soldiers.

Then, amidst their deep baritones, I heard Valentina’s sharp, trilling laugh.

I held my breath, leaning closer to the door.

“The rumors about that bouquet are ruining my reputation,” Valentina complained coyly.

“You have to clear my name, Nero.”

A soldier made a suggestive, joking comment about how she looked holding the flowers, drawing a low whistle.

Nero’s voice followed, casual and drawling.

“Rumors always die down,” he said dismissively.

His tone was identical to the one he used to handle my concerns.

In the dark hallway, a chilling realization hit me.

Nero didn't care about the taboo of an office romance.

He only cared that being with me provided no strategic advantage to his rise in power.

“What about those wedding invitations Siena is supposedly sending out?” another soldier asked.

Nero scoffed loudly.

“Let her play her games.”

He sounded bored with the topic of my departure.

“I’m not going,” Nero added arrogantly.

“She needs to understand that tantrums don't sway a future Godfather.”

A low chuckle rippled through the room.

“So, do you have other plans for Valentina then?” a soldier asked half-jokingly.

Valentina giggled again, the sound grating.

Nero didn't deny it, nor did he offer a single word in defense of my honor.

Instead, I heard the men agreeing that Valentina was far more useful to the family than I was.

I looked down at the classified documents in my hand, the weight of misplaced loyalty feeling like a lead weight in my chest.

I placed the black folder gently on the floor, right at the threshold of the door.

Then, I turned and walked silently back into the shadows.