THE MAFIA’S PRIDE

Crossed the line

Damien POV

I pulled back from the kiss and looked into her eyes.

For the first time in a very long time…

I didn’t know what to say.

She stared back at me, equally stunned.

Her lips were slightly parted, her cheeks flushed, and for one impossible second, it felt as though the space between us had disappeared.

As though none of this had ever happened.

As though I remembered her.

“Uhm…” she said softly, breaking the silence. “I think I… should get some sleep now.”

I nodded before I could stop myself.

“Yeah.”

She offered me a small, uncertain smile.

“See you tomorrow.”

Then she turned and quietly walked out of the kitchen.

I stood there long after she was gone.

The sound of her footsteps faded down the hallway.

Then…

Silence.

I slowly raised my fingers to my lips.

I had kissed her.

A slow breath escaped my lips.

I turned away from the kitchen and made my way upstairs.

The mansion was quiet, the only sound the soft echo of my footsteps against the wooden floor.

Reaching my bedroom, I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

I closed it behind me before crossing to the bed.

With a tired sigh, I loosened my shirt, lay down, and pulled the covers over myself.

I closed my eyes.

Nothing.

Sleep refused to come.

Every time I tried to empty my mind, I found myself back in the kitchen.

The surprise in Vivian’s eyes.

The warmth of her lips.

The way she had looked at me after I pulled away.

I let out a frustrated breath and turned onto my side.

“This is ridiculous,” I muttered.

I had meetings that could determine the future of billion-dollar companies without losing a minute of sleep.

Yet one kiss…

One unexpected kiss…

Had my mind refusing to cooperate.

I turned onto my back and stared at the ceiling.

Who was this woman to me?

More importantly…

Why did being around her feel so natural?

The questions chased each other through my mind until exhaustion finally won.

Sometime before dawn…

I drifted to sleep.

…

The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and something warm and buttery stirred me awake.

I frowned.

For a moment, I remained still, trying to place the unfamiliar scent.

Then my stomach answered with a low growl.

I glanced at the clock on the bedside table.

8:17 a.m.

Later than I usually woke.

I ran a hand through my hair before getting out of bed.

The smell grew stronger as I stepped into the hallway.

Curious, I followed it downstairs.

It led me straight to the kitchen.

I stopped at the doorway.

Vivian stood by the stove, quietly cooking breakfast. Sunlight streamed through the windows, catching the loose strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail as she stirred the pan, completely unaware that I was watching her.

I found myself walking toward her.

Halfway across the kitchen, I stopped.

For the briefest moment, an absurd urge crossed my mind.

To stand behind her.

To wrap my arms around her waist.

To simply… hold her.

The thought caught me so off guard that I almost laughed at myself.

I barely knew this woman.

At least, that was what my memories insisted.

I cleared my throat instead.

“I didn’t know you liked cooking.”

She turned slightly, a smile finding its way onto her face.

“I’ve always loved cooking, Damien.”

There was no accusation in her voice.

Only quiet sadness.

“You just don’t remember.”

She lifted the wooden spoon in her hand and gestured toward the pan.

“And before you ask… I’m making your favorite.”

My eyes drifted to the stove.

The rich aroma suddenly made sense.

“Truffle mushroom risotto,” I said almost instinctively.

Her smile widened.

“Looks like your stomach remembers even if your mind doesn’t.”

A small chuckle escaped me.

“Yeah… I figured.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

The silence was comfortable.

Different from the silence we’d shared at the hospital.

Different from the silence after the kiss.

I looked at her.

“About last night…”

Before I could finish, footsteps echoed through the hallway.

Marcus appeared at the kitchen entrance.

“Sir,” he said respectfully. “Mr. Reynolds is here. He says he needs to speak with you.”

I gave a slight nod.

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yes, sir.”

Marcus disappeared as quietly as he had arrived.

I turned back to Vivian.

“I’m sorry.”

She shook her head gently.

“It’s okay.”

“I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright.”

I gave her one last look before leaving the kitchen and heading upstairs.

After a quick shower and getting dressed, I made my way back downstairs.

Reynolds was already waiting in the living room, a cup of coffee resting untouched on the table before him.

The moment he saw me, he rose to his feet.

“Good morning, Damien.”

“Morning, Reynolds.”

We exchanged a firm handshake before taking our seats opposite each other.

“I just wanted to check how you were feeling,” Reynolds said.

“I’m doing better now,” I replied.

I paused before continuing.

“Thank God you came. I actually wanted to speak to you about something important.”

Reynolds gave me his full attention.

“Alright. Tell me.”

I leaned back in my chair, gathering my thoughts.

“After Vivian claimed to be my wife, I spent a lot of time thinking about it.”

I looked down briefly.

“At first, I thought she could be lying. There was no proof of our marriage, no records, nothing that confirmed her story.”

Reynolds remained quiet.

“But then I started thinking about the possibility that she was telling the truth.”

I exhaled slowly.

“So I looked into it myself. I searched for anything that could prove our marriage existed, but I found nothing.”

A frown crossed my face.

“That made me suspicious, so I asked Marcus to keep an eye on her.”

I paused.

“Then she was attacked.”

Reynolds’ expression hardened.

“My men reached her in time, but it raised a question I couldn’t ignore.”

I met his eyes.

“If Vivian had nothing to do with this, why would someone try to kill her?”

The room fell silent.

“Someone is targeting both of us.”

My voice became firmer.

“I don’t know the reason yet, but I know separating us is exactly what they want.”

I looked away for a moment.

“And I won’t let them think they’ve succeeded.”

Reynolds studied me.

“So what are you suggesting?”

“Vivian stays here.”

I didn’t hesitate.

“Under our protection.”

Reynolds nodded slowly.

“I agree,” he said. “Keeping Miss Carter under your protection is the safest course of action.”

“It’s not just about protecting her,” I said. “Whoever orchestrated these attacks wants us apart.”

Reynolds frowned.

“You believe they’re connected?”

“I don’t believe in coincidences,” I answered. “Until we find out who’s behind this, Vivian stays close.”

Reynolds held my gaze for a moment.

“Alright, Damien,” he said at last. “Just don’t trust her too quickly.”

I gave him a slight nod, though my thoughts were elsewhere.

Until I have undeniable proof of everything… I won’t let Vivian know that I believe she’s telling the truth.

A gentle knock sounded on the door.

A maid stepped inside and bowed respectfully.

“Sir,” she said, “Miss Vivian has set the table and asked me to let you know breakfast is ready.”

“I’ll be there shortly,” I replied.

The maid nodded and quietly excused herself.

I turned back to Reynolds.

“Would you like to join us for breakfast?”

A faint smile crossed his face.

“Thank you, but I’ll have to decline. I had breakfast before I came.”

He rose from his seat and straightened his jacket.

“Besides, the Moretti Syndicate has requested a meeting this morning.”

I stood as well.

“You still remember the Morettis?”

A small chuckle escaped Reynolds.

“Of course.”

I allowed myself a faint smile.

“How could I ever forget them?”

“What time is the meeting?” I asked, my voice turning flat. “And what do they want now?”

Reynolds noticed the shift immediately.

“Eleven o’clock,” he replied. “The Moretti Syndicate wants to renegotiate the shipping routes through the eastern ports.”

My expression remained unreadable.

“They’ve suddenly become interested in negotiations?”

Reynolds nodded once.

“According to their representative, they’re willing to recognize our control of the southern route.”

I let out a quiet scoff.

“No one gives up profitable territory out of goodwill.”

“Exactly,” Reynolds agreed. “In return, they’re asking for shared access to Port Raven and a twenty percent stake in the new shipping terminals.”

I stood and walked toward the window, folding my hands behind my back.

“A twenty percent stake?”

My voice was calm.

Too calm.

“Tell me, Reynolds… do I look like a charity?”

A faint smile tugged at Reynolds’ lips.

“That’s what I expected you’d say.”

I looked out across the ocean, my gaze hardening.

“The Morettis aren’t interested in partnership.”

“They’re testing us.”

Reynolds nodded.

“They believe the assassination attempt and your memory loss have weakened the DeLuca family.”

My jaw tightened.

“Then they’ve made a very expensive mistake.”

I turned back to face him.

“Keep the meeting.”

“But make one thing perfectly clear before it begins.”

Reynolds waited.

“The DeLuca family doesn’t negotiate under pressure.”

“If the Morettis want peace, they come with respect.”

“If they want a war…”

I straightened the cuff of my sleeve.

“…they’ll bury their own men.”

Reynolds gave a respectful nod.

“I’ll relay the message.”

Without another word, he turned and walked toward the door.

Just before leaving, he stopped.

“Enjoy your breakfast, Damien.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

I made my way to the dining room.

Vivian was just setting the last plate on the table when she looked up and smiled.

“Perfect timing.”

I pulled out a chair and sat down, waiting until she took the seat opposite me.

She studied my face for a moment.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded.

“Yeah. Just business.”

She gave a small nod.

“I understand.”

She picked up her fork, and I did the same.

The aroma alone was enough to make my stomach remind me that I’d skipped dinner the night before.

I took my first bite.

The creamy truffle mushroom risotto melted on my tongue, rich with parmesan and finished with just the right amount of black pepper.

I looked up at her.

“This is… incredible.”

A genuine smile spread across her face.

“Thank you.”

“I had a feeling you’d like it.”

“I can see why.”

For the first time since waking up in that hospital…

Breakfast didn’t feel like another obligation.

It felt…

Comfortable.

An unfamiliar silence settled between us.

Not awkward.

Just… quiet.

I cleared my throat.

“About last night…” I began.

Vivian slowly lifted her eyes to meet mine.

“I’m sorry if I crossed a line,” I said. “I shouldn’t have kissed you without thinking.”

She was quiet for a moment before a faint smile appeared on her lips.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she said softly.

I frowned.

“I don’t?”

She shook her head.

“No.”

Her voice was gentle.

“I wanted you to kiss me too.”

For a second…

I forgot how to breathe.

She lowered her gaze to her plate.

“It wasn’t one-sided, Damien,” she added.

Something stirred inside me.

Not a memory.

Just… warmth.

I looked away first and cleared my throat.

“I have a meeting later this morning,” I said.

“Business?” Vivian asked.

I nodded.

“Yeah.”

“I figured,” she said with a small smile before taking another bite of her breakfast.

“What about you?” I asked.

“I’ll be heading to work after breakfast,” she answered.

“How are you getting there?” I asked.

“My colleague is picking me up,” she replied casually.

I nodded absentmindedly and reached for my glass of water.

Then something about her answer made me stop.

I slowly looked back at her.

“Your colleague?” I asked.

“Yes,” she answered.

“A man?” I asked before I could stop myself.

She blinked.

“…Yes.”

I set my fork down.

“Does he always pick you up?” I asked.

A trace of amusement flickered across her face.

“Sometimes,” she answered.

“We’ve worked together for years.”

For reasons I couldn’t explain…

That answer didn’t sit well with me.

Another question slipped out before I had the chance to stop it.

“Is he married?” I asked.

She stared at me for a moment.

Then…

The corners of her lips slowly curved into a smile.

“Why are you smiling?” I asked.

She held my gaze for several seconds before answering.

“Nothing,” she said.

I leaned back in my chair.

“No,” I said. “Tell me.”

Her smile only widened.

“I was just thinking…” she said.

She paused, her eyes never leaving mine.

“…Some things don’t need memories to find their way back.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

She let out a soft chuckle.

“You’ll figure it out.”

I watched her in silence.

I had absolutely no idea why the thought of another man driving her to work unsettled me.

But one thing had become painfully clear.

I didn’t remember loving Vivian Carter…

Yet I already disliked the idea of another man being anywhere near her.