Forbidden Claim: A Mafia King’s Obsession

Chapter 33: wierd presence

Nadia’s POV

Ever since the day Clara was killed, the mansion has become quiet. The doctor gave me a few medications for my phobia and also advised that I get therapy sessions. But that wouldn’t be necessary because the main cause of the trigger is living right under the same roof as me.

I didn’t see Lorenzo for three days, his study remains dark, I barely hear the sound of his door opening or slamming shut, his seat at the long, mahogany dining table remains empty. Yet, his absence is far from relief, it feels like the hush in the air right before the thunderstorm tears the sky apart.

But if he is gone by the day. He returns at night.

Every single night, without fail, I will wake up in the dead of the evening. My heart hammering violently against my ribs, my skin prickling with the sudden certainty that I am no longer alone. I will keep my eyes squeezed shut, frozen under the silk sheets, listening.

I can hear it — the slow, rhythmic creak of the floorboards near the window. The faint aroma of expensive tobacco and expensive whiskey drifting through the dark. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t touch me. He simply stands there, a towering, silent shadow silhouetted against the moonlight. Watching my every breath.

I live in terror of the moment he might move closer, yet I am equally terrified of the silence that will follow if he leaves. It is a silent reminder that even when he is out of sight, my life, my breath and my very soul belongs to him. I am a bird trapped in a cage, and the panther is simply waiting for the perfect moment to slide his claws through the bars.

On the fourth night, the illusion of his passive observation shatters.

I wake up not to the strong scent of whiskey, but to a violent grip on my wrist. I gasp, my eyes flying wide open. A heavy hand clamps over my mouth, muffling my scream before it could leave my throat.

“Get up,” Lorenzo voice commands in a low, gravelly rasp that vibrates against my skin.

I struggle against his hold, but he easily hauls me out of bed, my bare feet hitting the cold hardwood floor. The room is bathed in the pale, eerie glow of a half-moon. Lorenzo is dressed in a dark, tailored trench coat, his eyes completely void of warmth, looking like death personified.

“Lorenzo, please, what are you doing?” I whisper, my voice cracking as he releases my mouth only to drag me toward the closet.

“Get dressed,” he mutters, tossing a dark coat and a pair of shoes at my feet. “We are going somewhere.”

“At midnight?” I ask, my hands shaking so violently I can barely pull the coat over my nightgown. “Where are we going?”

His grip tightens on my arm, making me wince. “Lorenzo, you are hurting me!”

He doesn’t respond, he simply tightens his grip on my arm, tight enough to leave bruises , and marched me out of the room, down the grand staircase and into the black SUV waiting in the driveway. The night air is freezing, biting at my exposed skin. But the chill inside the car is definitely worse.

The drive is silent, the only sound that can be heard is the low hum of the engine and the rapid, shallow sound of my own breathing. I stare out the window as the city lights faded, replaced by the towering iron gates of a sprawling estate I didn’t recognize.

“Where are we, Lorenzo?” I ask, my voice trembling. “Please say something.”

He keeps his eyes on the road, his jaw clenching so tightly the muscle ticked. His phone suddenly begins to ring , he picks it and put it on speaker.

“What, Viktor?” he says in a deep scowl.

“Boss, the shipment’s been delayed,” Viktor’s voice echoes on the other end of the line. Lorenzo hand tightens on the steering wheel instantly.

“What the f**k do you mean, Viktor?”

“I got intel Boss. Someone is trying to corner-side it,” he responds.

“Really?” Lorenzo scoffs. “That’s fine. Let’s finish with the Luccheses first. Then, I’ll find the pezzo di merda who’s trying to press my buttons.”

“Sí, Don,” Viktor responds and the line goes dead.

“You want to know where we are going, don’t you, piccola?” Lorenzo suddenly says, turning slightly to fix me a sharp glare.

“We are going to wipe out an entire bloodline.”