Forbidden Claim: A Mafia King’s Obsession

Chapter 40: Sit. Smile

Nadia’s POV

Lorenzo leaves behind a silence heavier than his words.

She’s dead.

The words linger in my mind, sending a wave of icy chill down my spine. I drag the duvet higher, draping the silk sheets over my face. But no amount of warmth seems to soothe the numbness spreading through my entire body.

To me, she was just a staff with a warm smile who offered me tea to warm my stomach. To Lorenzo, she was just a disposable spy sent by an enemy clan . And now, she is just another body at the border, erased from existence, left to rot.

I shut my eyes tightly, trying to force myself to sleep, but every time I close my eyes, all I see is blood dripping across the marble floor, and a dangerous crystalline blue eyes staring down at me without an ounce of remorse.

I’ve been trapped with a man that even the air around him feels toxic.

The rain which begins later at night has reduced to tiny droplets by morning, leaving a grey fog clinging to the ground of the mansion.

My body is still aching with a dull persistent exhaustion from the poison, but I manage to pull myself out of bed.

I step into the closet and search for clothes. I fish out an oversized wool knit sweater and a pair of dark trousers and pull them on, needing the comfort of heavy fabrics against my skin.

The moment I step out into the long corridor, two hefty guards fall into step a few paces behind me. Their faces rigid, unreadable masks as their hands rest near their belts. The security has been doubled on Lorenzo’s order. And instead of feeling protected, I feel more like a prisoner.

I take the stairs down to the living room where I had collapsed a few days ago. I pause midway, I can’t look at couch. I can’t look at the floor. Even the air in this house carries a terrifying memory.

In a desperate attempt to get fresh air, I push the heavy glass doors that leads to the back terrace open. The cool morning air bites against my chin, the fresh scent damp earth and crushed pine filling my nostrils.

“Mrs Romano… why are out here without a jacket?”

A quite but weary voice makes me flinch. I turn toward the stone path near the rose bushes to find Hannah standing there.

“I… I needed some air,” I whisper, wrapping my hands tightly around my waist. “Inside feels… too tight.”

Hannah gives a silent, sad nod before walking over to stand beside me on the terrace. Her eyes is filled with a quiet sympathy that almost makes my carefully built walls crumble.

“Don Lorenzo left early this morning,” Hannah says, keeping her voice low so the guards hanging around won’t hear her. “He asks us to prepare for a dinner gathering tonight.”

My heart sinks. A dinner gathering.

“A dinner gathering?” I murmur, staring blankly at Hannah. “With whom?”

“The Morettis,” Hannah sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I’ve worked for the Romano family for twelve years, Nadia. I’ve watched the Don grow into the man he is today. He wasn’t always this cold… but he changed completely after that incident.”

I want to ask what incident. But I know better not to, because I wouldn’t get any answers.

“He found her,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “The girl who served me tea. She’s dead. I thought my silence would save her. I thought she’d just flee if I didn’t say anything. But it was all a waste. He killed her anyway.”

Hannah reaches out and places her warm hands over my trembling fingers. “It’s hard to hold on to your heart in a world like this. You tried to keep your humanity, dear. Don’t let the evil of this world take that from you. Don’t let the Don’s lifestyle turn you into stone.”

Silence follows immediately after her words, a thin lifeline in the middle of an ocean of violence.

By afternoon, the fog vanishes, replaced by the hot scorching sun. I take a shower and change into lighter clothes before heading to the study at the far end of the east wing.

I sit down on the plush couch, the book I had picked out from the shelves resting on my laps, my mind too numb to even open the pages and read.

Just at that moment, my phone begins to vibrate against the side table. I look at the screen and a familiar name is displayed on it.

Don.

With shaky hands, I grab the phone and answer, putting it on speaker.

“Hello?” my voice comes out cracked and weak.

“Have you received the dress?” Lorenzo asks through the receiver.

A dress?

“What dress?” I ask.

“Where are you, piccola?”

“In the study…” I whisper, shutting my eyes and leaning back against the couch.

“I need you dressed and ready before 6pm,” he says, his tone low and unbothered. “We have 'important guests' coming over for dinner.”

Important guests. A sudden chill runs down my spine at the thought. What exactly does he plan to do tonight?

“I don’t want to… can I not attend, Lorenzo?” I murmur.

“You don’t get to negotiate with me, piccola,” he snaps, his voice a low rumble that vibrates in my very bones. “Be ready at six.”

The line goes dead before I can even protest. I can’t refuse. I can’t say no. He’d drag me down to the dining feast like a rag doll at most.

I stare at the ceiling, a shaky breath escaping my throat. I’m tired. I’ve not had a single moment of peace ever since my parents died. I thought my life was hard with the Bennetts. But it’s a lot much worse with Lorenzo.

I can’t escape from him. He will track me down in minutes and only heavens knows what he’ll do if he finds me.

Taking a glance at the wall-clock, it is already past three. The Morettis arrive at six. I have just two hours to get ready for another cruelty.

-

It is 6:00 PM by the time I am fully dressed in the expensive, backless black chiffon dinner dress Lorenzo provided. On the vanity sits a velvet box containing a diamond necklace. I fasten it around my neck , then pull my hair into a sleek ponytail, letting my bangs sweep neatly across my forehead.

The sharp sounds of tires screeching echoes in the driveway below — the 'guests' have arrived.

My hands are trembling despite every effort to keep them steady. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I head toward the door only to freeze as the brass knob turns with a soft click.

I take a panicked step back as the door swings open.

Lorenzo steps inside, looking effortlessly striking in a fitted black shirt with the top buttons left loose — offering a fleeting glimpse of the dark ink creeping up his chest. His sleeves are rolled up to his forearms, paired with tailored black trousers and pristine Leather shoes. I had no idea he was already back.

He shuts the door softly behind him, his dark hooded gaze locking onto me as he slowly rakes his eyes down my body.

“Unʼincantevole bellezza eterea,” he mutters under his breath, a slow, dangerous smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“The gown fits you perfectly,” he says, taking slow strides toward me. “I managed to map out your frame the few times I’ve touched you. I know your exact measurements.”

A startled gasp escapes my throat. He is completely shameless.

I say nothing, dropping my gaze to the polished floor while nervously twisting the golden bracelet on my wrist.

He closes the remaining space between us and places his hands on my shoulders — softly at first, before his fingers tighten into an iron, bruising grip. The sharp pressure digs into my skin, making me wince.

“Now, we will go downstairs,” he whispers, leaning in until his lips brushes against my earlobe. “You sit beside me. You smile. And you do not show a single trace of weakness.”