Salvatore Dalla

I spent the whole day even more irritated than usual. The ragazza insisted on getting under my skin, even when I extended a white flag, offering a truce. But no, she didn’t want that.

Even though I loved Nonna's pasta, I could barely eat. With just a few words, she had completely killed my appetite, and I buried myself back in the office. I was going to drown myself in work to try and forget her. As soon as Amadeu arrived, his first task would be to find a place to put the girl and get her out of my sight.

She was distracting me, driving me crazy. I couldn’t let that happen.

There was good news about the Russians, though. Bit by bit, they were being eliminated. There was a possibility that a pair was here in Rome, but I’d keep a close watch on that and track them down if they were. They wouldn’t leave alive; I would personally make sure of that.

I thought about her when Angela brought me an espresso and some cookies in the middle of the afternoon. I’d left her hungry, and that was bothering me. But why did she have to challenge me so much?

Could Angela have given her something to eat, going against my orders? For the first time, I wished she hadn’t obeyed me. I wouldn’t say it out loud, but I hoped she had fed Amapola. Deep down, I knew it was likely—she had grown attached to the girl. I could tell.

I tried to refocus on work, and between phone calls and influential contacts, I managed to confirm that the Russians were indeed here. Two of them had entered Rome, and their fate was already sealed. I told Matteu to increase security around the complex and set aside a special place to take them once they were captured. After all, I wanted to personally provide them with five-star accommodations—a courtesy from the Italian Mafia, a warning to anyone who dared set foot on la nostra terra.

Around eight in the evening, my phone rang. Seeing it was Matteu, I was surprised—he was on external duty at the house. Was there a problem?

"Boss?"

"Yes?"

"I just caught the prisoner trying to escape," he said, and I could barely believe my ears. Had Amapola really been that foolish?

"Did you catch her? Don’t touch her. Where are you?" I fired off questions and orders, hoping he understood.

"Yes, sir. In the central garden, in front of the mansion."

"I’m on my way," I said, already standing up.

"I’ll wait for you." I hung up and left the room like lightning.

"Please, my son, don’t hurt the girl," Angela intercepted me on the way.

"Did you help her?" I asked, though I knew she never would.

"Of course not, sir. I would never betray you," she said, reassuring me.

"I know, Angela. I know you wouldn’t."

"Of course not, but please don’t hurt her. She doesn’t deserve it. I know the girl has suffered enough, and if she wants to go, let her go, my son. If she’s meant to be yours, she’ll come back. No one can take what’s truly ours. If it’s meant to be, it will be." Nonna, as always, spoke her mind and nearly managed to irritate me more than Amapola.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know, Salvatore. Don’t deny what I’ve seen from the very first time I saw you two together."

"You’re losing it, old meddler."

"No, I’m not, my boy. Listen to me. Let her go, and you’ll see that she’ll stay. Trust the experience of this old meddler," she said with a smile, and I didn’t bother responding. I left the mansion fuming with rage.

From a distance, I could see Amapola kneeling on the ground. I was furious, especially after Nonna’s words. Could she be right? Was I really keeping Amapola around because I wanted her near? Should I let her go?

As I walked briskly toward her, countless thoughts crossed my mind, but the one thing I was certain of was that I didn’t want her far away.

"You can go now, Matteu. I’ll take it from here," I dismissed my guard. I wanted to handle her alone.

"What do you think you’re doing?" I asked once I caught my breath and controlled my anger.

"Escaping!" The defiant girl responded rebelliously.

"And did you really think you’d succeed?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe," she replied, and I wanted to laugh.

"Let it be clear, ragazza, that you won’t. Even if I have to chain you to the foot of my bed to keep watch over you myself," I threatened.

"You wouldn’t dare, would you?" The fear in her voice told me she believed I would.

"Try to escape again, and that’s exactly what I’ll do. Now get up. We’re going inside. NOW," I said, completely out of patience.

"I’m leaving. I don’t want to be your prisoner forever. I can’t live like this. If this is how it’s going to be, I’d rather die. Kill me, Salvatore. Kill me," she said. Hearing her say she’d rather die than be my prisoner tore me apart inside. I didn’t want her dead, nor did I want her to suffer. If being near me caused her so much pain, I’d give her a chance.

"Get up, Amapola," I said.

"No."

"Get up, and I’ll give you a chance to escape from me. If you succeed, I promise I won’t come after you." I made my intentions clear.

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Give you a chance to escape. Enough of the games. I never keep anyone locked up for long. I kill within the first week, but I didn’t with you. Maybe that was my mistake. I should have killed you and your father," I started to say, but she interrupted me. Amapola was the only person bold enough to cut me off, and sometimes I found it amusing.

"Leave my father out of this. I’m the one who challenges you all the time, so take your anger out on me."

"Don’t be foolish, girl. I let you challenge me. Haven’t you noticed? I find your defiance amusing, this idea that you can challenge me. But you can’t, Amapola. You don’t have the strength to fight me, and I’ll prove it now. Enough of this cat-and-mouse game. Let’s play like adults now. You are the prey, and I am the hunter. If I catch you, you’ll be my prisoner until your last breath. If you make it past the gates, you’ll have your freedom," I stated clearly.

But as always with Amapola, there was a "but." She wanted to guarantee she could escape, so I realized Angela was right. I needed to let her go since I didn’t have the guts to kill her. No one needed to know how I really felt, but I would let her go. It was decided.

I told her the advantages she’d have. She didn’t know it yet, but her exit through the gates of the complex was already certain. I just took the opportunity to feel her scent and touch her body one last time. When I whispered in her ear the rules and pointed out the way she should go, I wanted to keep her delicate scent locked in my mind, so I breathed in her neck.

I felt her shiver, her body trembled slightly. I could tell because she was still pressed against mine. If I whispered just a little more in that spot on her neck, near her ear, I could swear she would tilt her head to the side and ask for more. She would melt in my arms. I pulled away to avoid doing exactly that—to avoid convincing her to stay using other tactics. I had already decided: I would let her go.

Giving her a five-minute head start was nothing to me. I could give her ten and still catch her, but I’d follow her from afar until the end—until she crossed the gates, and I had to not only let her go but also erase her from my mind. I wanted to savor those last moments in her company.

I gave orders to Matteu. I knew he wasn’t happy with what I said. The latest information suggested the Russians were lurking around the property. For a moment, I worried about her. Could they catch her? I could order someone to follow her to safety until she reached her home. That’s it. I needed to stop finding excuses to keep her here when all she wanted was to get away from me.