The Mafia King’s Obsession

Inside The Moretti Mansion

(Aria)

I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me immediately after those words left his lips. I didn’t know I still had the habit of blurting out my thoughts, and in this case, I had made Luca aware of one of my secrets…I was a virgin.

The smirk on his face as he walked up the stairs away from me made me sure he enjoyed what he'd just done, and I was beyond embarrassed.

“Follow me, Miss,” I heard Maria say from behind me. I snapped out of my bubble of shame and followed her to my room.

The room she led me to screamed nothing less than luxury. Not like I was expecting anything less in the Moretti Mansion, the Morettis may be known as the number one Mafia family in Italy but they were also known for their luxurious style of living, and even though my family was doing quite well as a mafia family before everything crumbled, we were never a match for the Morettis.

“Your room Miss,” Maria said as we stepped into the room.

The walls of the room were painted immaculately white. The windows were draped with tall black curtains which looked heavy. At the centre of the room was a king-sized bed dressed in white sheets.

There was a lamp by the nightstand and I was grateful as I hadn't been able to sleep without the lights on, ever since that night. It kept the nightmares away.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Maria said, then left as silently as she had appeared.

I sank onto the edge of the bed, the adrenaline from the events of the gallery slowly draining from my limbs. The rose he had left me earlier that morning haunted my thoughts—the subtle reminder that he could reach me wherever I tried to hide.

And now… I was here, in his house. My stomach twisted.

I tried to make sense of it all. Four years of running, of building a new life, of pretending that I had moved on from him… it felt meaningless. He had found me, pulled me into his world, and reminded me that no matter how far I ran, some things could not be escaped.

The silence was thick and enveloping until the door creaked open. He stepped inside, closing it behind him. I tensed, my hands gripping the bedsheets.

“Stay,” he said simply, moving closer. “Don’t touch anything.”

I obeyed, watching as he circled the room like a predator, examining the space with sharp, calculating eyes. There was an intensity to him that made my pulse stutter. His presence filled the room so completely that I felt smaller, exposed, unsteady.

Finally, he stopped in front of me. “You saw things you weren’t supposed to tonight,” he said, voice low, almost a growl. “And now, someone wants to make sure you don’t remember. I won’t let that happen.”

“I don’t need protecting,” I said, trying to sound braver than I felt. My hands trembled slightly in my lap. “I can take care of myself.”

He scoffed in reply.

“If what you did at the gallery was you protecting yourself then I hate to break it to you tesoro, you did a terrible job. If I didn't pull you out, you would have been shot,”

“And who's fault would that have been?” I asked in anger. “There is chaos wherever you go. Four years ago, you killed my brother in cold blood, I managed to escape from you and the bloodshed but somehow you managed to rope me back into the very thing that gives me nightmares,”

His eyes darkened, the calm, measured control he always carried twisting into something sharp and dangerous. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought I could see the storm building behind his gaze.

“You think this is about me?” His voice was low, almost a growl. “You think I enjoy chaos, tesoro?”

I flinched under the intensity. “Then what is it about? You make it impossible to breathe without dragging me into it!” I snapped, standing now despite the tremor in my legs. “Four years, Luca. Four years I’ve spent running from you, from all of this—and yet, here you are, forcing me back into it like I never existed.”

He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the unspoken danger of a man who had been forged in blood and betrayal. “You think I wanted this? You think I wanted any of this?”

“Then why?” I demanded, my voice cracking despite myself. “Why come back into my life only to—” My words faltered, choked off by a surge of anger and hurt. “Why show up after all this time, Luca? Why ruin the life I’ve tried to build?”

His hands balled into fists at his sides, the muscles in his jaw working as though restraining him from doing something irreversible. He took a deep breath, the sound rough, primal.

“You think I come back for revenge? That I somehow enjoy torturing you?” His voice rose slightly, dangerous, shaking the room as much as his glare did. “Do you know what it’s like to lose you for four years, to have you slip through my fingers, to watch from a distance as you—” He cut himself off abruptly, swearing under his breath.

My heart stuttered, torn between fear and something else—something deeper that made me ache. “Luca—” I whispered, trying to reach him.

“No! Don’t,” he snapped, spinning on his heel, pacing the length of the room. His hands raked through his hair as if trying to pull the anger out through his fingertips. “Do you even understand what you do to me, Aria? You think this is all fun and games? You think your defiance, your stubbornness, your—” He gestured sharply toward me—“everything—isn’t burning me alive from the inside out?”

I sank back onto the bed, my pulse racing. I could see the veins in his neck stand out, the way his fists shook ever so slightly, betraying a fury he normally kept buried.

“I…” I started, but the words died in my throat.

He finally stopped moving, spinning around to face me with eyes blazing. “I can’t… I can’t be around you like this and not lose control!” He ran a hand over his face, his frustration almost tangible in the air between us. “I came here to protect you, to keep you alive—and you… you make me want to throw all of that out the window!”

The room felt smaller, heavier, the air thick with tension. My hands gripped the sheets, knuckles white, as I realized how completely he was consumed by this—by me.

He let out a harsh laugh, sharp and bitter, running down the stairs away from me. “I should leave,” he muttered, voice low but cutting, like a knife through the quiet. “Maybe that’s the only thing that will keep both of us sane.”