The Possessive Rule
1227 Words
The next day sucked.
Vito didn’t sleep. Not really.
Every time he closed his eyes he saw her.
Lina. Behind that counter. Scared. Tired. Looking out the window like she was waiting for something bad to happen.
And it was his fault.
He was in a meeting at 10am. Don Rocco’s office. Dark wood. Smelled like cigars and old money.
10 men in the room. Talking about the 2 million that went missing from the market.
Someone was stealing from Don Rocco.
That meant people were going to die.
"Vito." Don Rocco’s gravel voice cut through everything.
"What do you think?"
Vito blinked. He hadn’t heard a word.
"Inside job," he said. It was the safest answer. "Someone close. I’ll find them."
Don Rocco nodded slowly. "Good. You've been distracted lately. Fix it. I need my right hand, not some kid with a crush."
The room laughed.
Vito didn’t.
The word "crush" made his jaw clench.
He didn’t have a crush.
He didn’t even know her last name.
---
By 2pm he couldn’t take it anymore.
He told Marco he was "doing surveillance".
Lie.
He drove past the shop.
Lina was there.
She looked better. Hair tied up. Back straight.
But she kept glancing at the window. Every 20 seconds.
Like she was expecting someone.
Vito’s hands tightened on the wheel.
_My guys scared her._
He parked across the street. Just to watch for 5 minutes.
That’s when he saw them.
Two guys. Not his.
Cheaper suits. Bad haircuts.
Leaning against the wall near her shop. Talking. Looking inside.
Vito was out of the car before he could think.
He crossed the street in 6 long steps.
The two guys saw him and went pale.
"Problem?" Vito asked. Voice low.
One of them tried to smile. "Uh, no boss. Just waiting for a buddy."
Vito stared. Didn’t blink.
"This isn’t a waiting area. Leave."
They left. Fast. Almost running.
Inside, Lina had seen the whole thing.
Her heart was pounding.
The door opened.
Vito walked in.
Lina jumped up so fast she knocked her chair over.
"What are you doing here?"
Vito looked around the shop first. Checking corners. Checking the back.
Then he looked at her.
"Are you okay?"
Nobody asked her that.
Not customers. Not neighbors.
The question hit her weird.
"I’m... I’m fine," she said. "Thank you."
Silence.
It was heavy.
Lina couldn’t stand it. "Why are there men watching me?"
Vito didn’t lie. He was bad at lying to her for some reason.
"Because I told them to."
Lina’s eyes went wide. "You did what? Why?"
"Because this street is dangerous," Vito said. Matter of fact. "And you’re soft."
That did it.
Fear turned to anger real quick.
"I am NOT soft!" Lina snapped. "I run this shop by myself! I pay my rent! I fix things for people who can’t even pay me back! I—"
"You flinch when a car backfires," Vito interrupted. Not cruel. Just true.
"You cried when you dropped a box yesterday."
Lina’s face went red. "That’s different!"
"Is it?" Vito stepped closer. Not to threaten. Just... close.
Close enough that Lina could smell his cologne. Something expensive and dark.
"I don’t want anything to happen to you."
Lina stared at him.
Part of her wanted to scream.
Part of her wanted to believe him.
"That’s not your decision," she whispered. "You don’t get to choose to watch me. Like I’m... like I’m yours."
The word "yours" hung in the air.
Vito’s eyes went dark.
Something shifted in his face.
Possessive. Hungry.
He didn’t say anything for 3 seconds.
Then: "You’re right. It’s not my decision."
He turned to go.
Stopped at the door. Hand on the frame.
Still didn’t look back.
"But I’m going to do it anyway."
And he left.
Lina stood there, breathing hard.
Mad. Confused.
And underneath it all... relieved.
Which made her even madder
Vito got in the car and hit the steering wheel.
Once. Hard.
"What the hell," he muttered.
He wasn’t supposed to do that.
He wasn’t supposed to care.
He was supposed to be cold. Empty.
But she got mad at him.
Nobody got mad at Vito.
People were scared of him.
She looked him in the eye and told him no.
It was... new.
His phone rang. Marco.
"Boss. We got an issue."
"What."
"The two guys. They weren’t random. They were Moretti."
Vito went still.
Moretti family. Rivals for 20 years.
If they were watching Lina’s shop, it was because of him.
Because they saw him there yesterday.
He just painted a target on her back.
"s**t," Vito said under his breath.
"Double the men. Put them inside the shop. Tell her it’s a ‘city safety program’. Pay her rent for 3 months so she doesn’t ask questions."
"Yes boss."
Vito hung up.
He looked at the shop from down the block.
New rules.
Rule 1: Nobody touches her.
Rule 2: Especially not because of me.
Rule 3: Don’t let her know how much this is messing with your head.
He didn’t know what to call it.
Protective? Possessive?
All he knew was the thought of her getting hurt made him want to kill someone.
And that was dangerous.
That night Lina tried to work late to distract herself.
It didn’t help.
At 9pm there was a knock.
She almost screamed.
It was a man. Young. Clean cut. Not scary.
"Miss? I’m from city safety. We’re offering free security to shops on this street. Due to recent... incidents."
Lina frowned. "I didn’t ask for this."
"The rent is paid for 3 months," the guy said quickly. "No charge to you. We’ll just have two guards here during business hours."
Lina knew who sent him.
Vito.
She should say no.
She should tell them to leave.
But it was 9pm. And the street was dark.
And part of her was tired of being scared.
"Fine," she said quietly. "But they stay outside."
"Yes ma’am."
When she closed the shop, there were two men by the door.
Not looking at her. Just... there.
She walked home faster than usual.
Kept looking over her shoulder.
In her tiny apartment she sat on her bed and hugged a pillow.
Mad.
Safe.
Confused.
"I hate him," she whispered to the empty room.
Then, quieter: "Thank you."
She didn’t sleep well.
Kept dreaming of Vito’s eyes. Dark. Intense.
And his voice: "I’m going to do it anyway."
Vito didn’t sleep either.
He was at his apartment. Big. Empty. Gun on the table.
He was supposed to be looking at files about the Moretti.
Instead he was thinking about Lina’s angry face.
"You don’t get to choose to watch me."
Nobody talked to him like that.
And she was right.
He had no right.
But he was going to do it anyway.
At 3am his phone buzzed. Text from one of the guards.
`Shop is clear. She’s home safe.`
Vito stared at the text for a long time.
Then typed back: `Good.`
He put the phone down.
Closed his eyes.
For the first time in years, he wasn’t thinking about blood or money or Don Rocco.
He was thinking about a girl in a small shop.
Who yelled at him.
Who refused his money.
Who had a mark on her wrist.
And he had no idea what to do about any of it
- Writer
