Mafia’s Queen Comeback, He Yearns For Me

003

ROSA

For days, Rocco’s encrypted messages kept coming. Each one carried the same question. “Why? Why had I been erased?” He wanted to know why my family had wiped me out of the city.

I ignored them all. I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t leave me alone. He had Irina now, his Russian mob princess. He had chosen her. So why chase me?

I told myself I wanted to live on my own terms. I wanted freedom. But freedom didn’t last. Rocco made sure of that.

Hector, his most trusted subordinate came for me, man built like stone, with eyes that carried no mercy. I had barely stepped out of the city when I felt his shadow all over me.

“Miss Caruso,” he said flatly, his voice cold. “The boss wants you back. You don’t get to walk away.”

I tried to resist, pulling back, my fists clenched. “Tell Rocco I’m done. I don’t belong to him anymore.”

He didn’t flinch, but his hand quickly gripped my arm hard, fingers digging into my skin. I struggled, but his strength was overwhelming. He shoved me toward the waiting black car, its doors already open like a trap.

“Let me go!” I shouted, thrashing against him. But he only tightened his hold, his face expressionless.

“You don’t get a choice,” he muttered. “Orders are orders.”

I was pushed inside, the door slammed shut behind me, and the engine roared to life, and the city lights blurred past as we drove. My heart pounded with rage and helplessness.

By the time we reached Rocco’s family estate, my wrists ached from his grip. He dragged me out of the car, ignoring my protests, and forced me through the iron gates.

I walked into his family estate, and the moment I stepped through the doors, I knew something had changed. The air itself felt different and colder.

The art studio that had once been mine, the place where I poured out my thoughts and feelings onto had already been cleared out. Every trace of my existence had been carefully removed, as though I had never been there at all.

In its place stood a room dressed in luxury, and at the center hung a large portrait of Irina, her face painted with pride, staring down at the room like a queen surveying her kingdom. It was clear that this space had been remade for her. symbolizing that i had been officially “replaced.”

I ignored the sting in my chest and walked deeper into the mansion. And finally, I reached the grand hall where the family had gathered. Their voices hushed as I entered, and all eyes turned toward me.

Rocco was there, his expression unreadable as his family members sat around him, their faces curious, some even suspicious.

One of the elders leaned forward. “Tell us,” he said, his tone sharp, “what is your relationship with Rocco? Why have you come here?”

Before I could speak, Rocco’s voice cut through the silence. “There is no personal relationship,” he declared coldly. “She is nothing more than a subordinate. A worker, unworthy of mention.”

The words struck me like a slap, the humiliation in his voice visible, but I kept my face calm. My pride burned, yet I refused to let him see me break. I forced myself to nod, stepping into the role he had chosen for me.

“Yes,” I said evenly, my voice steady though my heart trembled. “O…our relationship is purely professional. I am here only in that capacity. Nothing more.” I stuttered.

A murmur of approval swept through the room. The family seemed relieved, their shoulders relaxing as if a burden had been lifted.

“We are glad to hear this,” another family member said with a smile. “Rocco’s marriage with Irina must not be disturbed. Tonight we celebrate with a banquet, and you are invited. It will be a joyous occasion.”

I forced a polite nod. “Of course. I’ll be there.”

With no choice, I accepted their invitation.

Later, I walked quietly to the room they had prepared for me. Closing the door, I let out a long breath. At least here I was away from their eyes.

Few hours later, the banquet hall was bright, filled with laughter and clinking glasses. I was placed at the far end of the long table, almost hidden, as if my presence was an afterthought.

On the surface, I sat quietly, my hands folded with a faint smile on my face. But deep down, I was counting the minutes until I could slip away.

The family raised their glasses. “To Rocco and Irina,” one uncle said loudly. “Their union brings strength to us all.”

Another added, “Yes, this marriage is good for the family. We are proud.”

I watched them, their words heavy with self-interest, as my slowly eyes drifted to Rocco. I watched as he laughed heartily, always surrounded by others.

I wanted to confront him, to ask why he had dragged me here against my will. But he was never alone, so I waited patiently.

Finally the banquet of mockery ended. I stood up quietly, ready to slip away, but before I could reach the door, Rocco’s uncle stepped in front of me.

“You should leave with Rocco and Irina,” he said firmly, his tone leaving little room for refusal.

I forced a polite smile. “Thank you, sir, but I can manage on my own.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s safer this way. You’ll go with them.” He insisted and I wanted to turn him down again when Irina, who was standing nearby, added softly. “It’s fine, you should come with us,”

I hesitated, knowing I couldn’t turn her down because it’d leave a stain on my imagine. “Alright… if you insist.”

She smiled and we walked together to the car. Rocco opened the door without looking at me, his face unreadable. I slid into the back seat, Irina beside him in the front. The night air was heavy, the streets quiet as the driver started the engine.

For a while, there was only silence. I stared out the window, counting the streetlights, wishing the ride would end quickly.

Then, without warning, the calm shattered. A loud gunshot split the air. The car jolted as bullets struck the windows.

“Get down!” Rocco shouted, pushing Irina’s head low.

Immediately explosions followed, deafening, shaking the ground, as flames lit up the dark road ahead. Another vehicle blocked our path, men spilling out with weapons raised.

Irina screamed, clutching Rocco’s arm. “What’s happening?!”

Rocco’s jaw tightened. “It’s them…Blackthorn Syndicate. Stay down!”

The driver swerved hard, trying to escape, but more shots rang out, glass shattering around us. I ducked, heart pounding, the smell of smoke filling the car.

“Oh goodness, what have I gotten myself into!” I lamented painfully.