His Forbidden Mafia Princess

Chapter - Three

Aleena – POV

The engagement day’s finally here. I was up before the sun and of course, the first thing I saw was that annoyingly handsome face of Caldwell. My day starts with him standing in the corner like some soldier on duty, all serious and silent.

Hard to ignore a guy like that. And honestly? I hate this whole setup.

I threw on my training gear and zipped up my jacket.

“I’ll be training you.”

His voice came out of nowhere, flat and cold. I jumped a little. Turned around and yep, there he was, just staring at me.

“Is that my dad’s new order? You training me now?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, your father didn’t tell me to.”

I paused at the door, looked him over, then said, “Good. I don’t need your help.I will train myself.”

I sped up, hoping to squeeze in a workout before my dad caught wind and locked me in a room to keep my hands pretty for the engagement. But once I hit the gym, I actually felt happy. I warmed up, got into the zone, started punching the bag.

“Your stance is off.”

I shot him a look but didn’t respond. He went back to doing his own thing, and I tried to focus. But then there he was, shirtless, sweating, doing push-ups like it’s nothing. Built like a wall. Great. I looked away fast and told myself to stop staring.

It’s been ten days with this guy. Not one word until today. Guess his ghost mode’s officially off.

“I figured I’d find you here,” said a familiar voice.

I turned. Nico. Casual shirt, jeans, black hair, green eyes looking way too calm.

“Nico,” I said. “Didn’t expect you this early.”

“Didn’t have a choice.” He muttered it, but his eyes were locked on something behind me. I turned and saw Caldwell frozen mid push-up, instantly back on guard.

Then Nico walked right up, close enough that I could actually feel the tension.

“Who’s he?” he asked, voice low.

“Bodyguard,” I mumbled.

“An American bodyguard?”

“Yep. My dad’s officially lost it. Could’ve hired one of his local Sicilian guys, but no goes for an American instead. Trust me, I’m just as confused.”

Nico met my eyes. For a second, he smirked. Was that... a smile? First time I’ve seen any emotion on him.

“Shouldn’t you be training?” he asked.

I shrugged and went to pull my gloves off, but he stopped me.

“Spar with me. Fiancée.”

I blinked. Wait. what? Did he just say that? Out loud?

I glanced over. Caldwell watching us, just a few feet away.

“Are you sure?” I said. “You haven’t asked to spar since we were teenagers.”

Nico stepped in too close.

“I need to know if you actually learned anything or if you’re still a loser.”

That did it. The comment hit a nerve. He’s always thought too highly of himself.

I dodged his first strike. He was fast but so was I.

I nearly landed a punch to his chest when he suddenly stopped, twisted my arm, and spun me straight into him. His grip tightened, pinning me against his frame. I froze as his breath brushed my neck. I struggled, trying to break free.

“Still a loser,” he whispered.

I reacted fast, throwing my head back. He dodged it easily and released me. I bent over slightly, catching my breath. He watched me for a few seconds, unreadable.

“Why didn’t you hit me during the spar?” I asked.

“Didn’t want to mess up your pretty face, Alee.”

Alee. Not Aleena. He hadn’t called me that in years. Ever since we turned eighteen, he’d gone cold like whatever friendship we had just vanished.

“Today’s our engagement,” he added flatly.

Then he turned away.

“Go back to your room before you get caught.”

As he left, I noticed the look he threw over his shoulder sharp and cold aimed straight at Caldwell.

That’s when I realized Caldwell had been there the whole time. Watching. He met my eyes.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m not some fragile doll,” I snapped, pulling off my gloves. I checked my hands no bruises. Relief washed over me despite everything.

I left the gym.

“Your attacks aren’t discreet,” Caldwell said beside me.

I glanced over. He had his T-shirt back on, dog tags resting against his chest again.

“Yeah?” I said. “So you want to train me?”

“I’m not allowed to hurt you.”

I stopped walking. He continued, “My training’s intense. You wouldn’t last.”

That lit something in me. I’ve spent my entire life proving men wrong especially my father.

“I can handle it,” I muttered. “And I’ll prove it.”

He looked at me for a long moment.

“I can’t train you, Ms. Caruso.”

I rolled my eyes.

Before I could argue, my father stormed into the room.

“You went training?” he barked. “I told you to stop. No one wants a woman covered in bruises and scars.”

I wanted to scream. Tell him I train because I don’t feel safe even in my own house. Because what happened to me still haunts me.

But he kept going.

“Aleena, don’t just stand there. Move. Go learn how to cook or something. Pick a proper hobby. Being a housewife is your role now.”

I swallowed everything I wanted to say when I noticed Mr. Angelo Bellini standing behind him.

“He’s right,” Bellini said calmly. “I don’t want a fiery daughter-in-law. We have plenty of men to protect you.”

“I don’t trust men to protect me,” I said quietly. “I was betrayed by one who swore he would.”

My father’s glare burned into me. He’d let those men walk free after what they did to me. He never cared—not really.

“I told you never to talk back.”

The slap landed hard. Familiar. Stinging.

I’d endured this my whole childhood so Eleanor wouldn’t have to.