The Mafia King and his Enemy's Daughter

Chapter 4

Lorenzo POV

In a hidden port owned by the Moretti, a man stood gazing at the shore, a tobacco clutched between his fingers. He let the smoke escape, his lips betraying the faint amusement he tried to hide.

For the first time in Lorenzo's boring daily life, the arrival of his new secretary, Isabella, made everything different. The moment she stepped in, he noticed her. He couldn’t stop measuring her. She was suspicious in an addictive way.

"Welcome, Sir!"

Men in black suits and sunglasses greeted him.

"We caught another, sir." one reported.

Lorenzo’s gaze shifted. "Why are they targeting me so often these days? Investigate it."

"Right away, Sir."

The subordinate left immediately.

"The time she approached me was too suspicious. She might be tied to those people." a faint, gentle smile escaped his mouth. But because of his intimidating face, what his men saw was nothing gentle. To them, it was the smile of a demon.

Some shifted nervously. Others struggled to maintain steady breathing, terrified he might notice them.

"Bring him to me."

"Yes, Sir!"

And just a minute later, a man was shoved onto the floor. His body was full of bruises and fresh scars, but his eyes remained sharp.

"We already tortured him, but he refused to say a word about who sent him."

A flicker of interest passed through Lorenzo’s gaze, cruel and deliberate.

“Loyal, huh? That’s new. Try everything. If he doesn’t break on the outside, break him in here.” He tapped his temple. “Humiliate him. Make him beg for death.”

Even his men shivered. One thing was clear: the kind of humiliation he meant would leave a mark far deeper than physical pain.

Just then, his subordinate returned.

"I got the files about this guy, sir."

Lorenzo immediately reviewed them.

"Oho~ so you have a daughter?"

The line made the spy’s gaze waver.

"No, please! I'll tell you anything… just don’t touch my daughter."

Lorenzo laughed coldly. "See? Talking works better than torture. But why should I believe a man who’s only thinking of his daughter?"

"I won't lie… if it’s my daughter’s life."

The man spilled everything, yet what he said surprised Lorenzo.

"Hmm… he’s not from the De Luca family?" His brows furrowed.

He had dealt with spies before, but something about this one felt… different.

---

Isabella POV

Inside a small yet expensive apartment closer to the Moretti Corporation, Isabella spoke quietly into her phone.

"Oh, he caught our planted spy? Just like we planned." she said to Damian.

"But Miss, are you sure you'll be fine? What you're doing right now is dangerous."

"Just manage our group while I'm gone. Make sure Matthias doesn't find out about this." she instructed, lowering the phone. She sat on her bed, a grin tugging at her lips.

Her mind raced, balancing strategy with the personal vow she carried in her chest.

"Don't worry father... I will soon avenge your death."

Her eyes filled with a quiet determination as she clenched her fist.

Her strategy had worked perfectly: the spy they captured was her doing.

The story about the daughter? A lie. A calculated move from her time in Russia. She bought her subordinate’s loyalty by threatening what mattered most—their family. And now, he had acted exactly as she intended, confessing the wrong information in a way that seemed “natural.”

This method always worked: drive a person to their deepest fear, and they’ll spill everything without realizing it’s been orchestrated.

As Lorenzo strategized over chess in the port, she quietly played Go. His mind focused on one battlefield, hers on another. The difference wasn’t intelligence—it was range. She could manipulate multiple moves at once, unseen, while he exposed himself with every visible play.

In the morning, they were nothing more than CEO and secretary. But in reality, both led dangerous empires.

---

Lorenzo POV

Morning came. Exactly at 7:30 a.m., both cars parked in the underground.

"Good morning, Sir Moretti." A professional smile tugged at Isabella’s lips.

Lorenzo nodded. "We arrived at the same time again, Miss Ricci. Is this fate or…" His tone ran cold at the end.

She didn’t react. Just like yesterday.

"I just work for my salary’s worth, Sir Moretti." she said plainly.

It wasn't to justify or explain herself. Just plainly informing him.

Lorenzo’s jaw clenched. She was unreadable—an anomaly he had never faced. And that made her all the more fascinating.

He found himself leaning a fraction closer, eyes tracing the way she moved, a pulse he hadn’t noticed quickening.

Even the way her makeup shifted, or how her hair fluttered.

Details he’d never noticed in women before, and never thought to care about.

The more he watched, the tighter his chest felt, the harder it was to tear his eyes away.

Clouding his judgment exactly as Isabella intended. He shook off the thought—but couldn’t stop staring.

Before they entered the elevator, he broke the silence.

"Are you free tonight, Miss Ricci?"

The moment he said that, something inside him flutter.

An unknown feeling, one he hadn’t felt since childhood.

A question not just testing her, but himself as well.

He wanted to confirm both his suspicion and the strange feelings stirring inside him.

Unknowingly, his neck reddened.

He looked at Isabella to see her reaction.

It was a mix of surprise and something else he couldn't describe.

There was something in his gaze, sharp and predatory, that made her heartbeat quicken, though she didn’t flinch.