Chapter 4

Chapter 4: I Made The Mafia Angry.

~Eve Moretti

Before the sun was even high in the sky, I was fully dressed and ready for my first day at work. My palms were moist, but my makeup was flawless. I tried repeatedly to tell myself this was just a job. A huge one, to be sure, but it was still just a job. One I might not be qualified for if I had applied by myself.

"Are you sure about this, Eve?" Lina stood by the doorway, her arms crossed and her face clouded with concern. She'd seen the designer shoes and clothes the night before. She wasn't stupid.

"I'm sure, Lina. I have no other choice. I have already agreed. It's just a normal job as a personal assistant." I said to her, hoping that would stop her from worrying.

"You don't understand," she said, her head shaking. "I've heard of Dante Valentino. He's not just from a generation of wealthy people. They say he deals in bad things. The mafia. The Valentino family are mafias. You can't trust him, Eve. He can do anything at any time."

I turned to confront her, already holding my coat in my hand. "I know what I'm doing, Lina. This might be what does it for me. I'll be careful. I promise."

She didn't believe me, but embraced me tightly anyway.

The trip to the Valentino estate was quiet, the driver didn't say a word to me, it was as though we were each distracted by our own mind. Maybe because the longer we rode, the more I realized I was stepping into something I wasn't quite sure of.

The gates creaked open as if to devour me whole.

Inside, the mansion was breathtaking. Elegant, towering, intimidating.

"You must be Miss Moretti," said the butler curtly. "This way."

He led me to a tall, sharp-jawed man who sat at a glass table, sipping coffee. He was dressed in black, the type of man who oozed control without even making an effort.

The butler cleared his throat. "Mr Dario, she's here."

The man turned—and stopped. His gaze locked onto mine.

Crash!

The glass dropped from his hand and shattered on the floor.

He stared as though he'd just glimpsed a ghost. I blinked numbly. "Um. are you okay?"

His jaw fell, then snapped back up. "You.... You're..."

What?

As he could manage to speak, the door creaked open. A guy came crashing in, kneeling. "Please, please, give my job back to me! I—I don't even know what I did wrong!

The Mr Dario didn't even blink. "Mr. Valentino's orders. Not mine."

"Please! I've been loyal—I've done nothing wrong—"

He nodded once. "Guards."

Two men seemed to appear out of thin air and dragged the man away yelling. I was frozen. My heart raced. So power was like that. Cold. Cruel.

"Don't worry about that," the man finally spoke to me. "That's none of your concern."

I wasn't quite so sure.

"You have to be Miss Moretti, the new personal assistant. Mr. Valentino is waiting for you. He's in the dressing room." He paused, then added, "You were a tad bit late. You're supposed to be here before he takes his shower. He does not tolerate tardiness. He'll let you off because it's your first day."

I nodded quickly but paused. "Do I… do I know you? You looked so shocked a while back."

He shifted his eyes away. "You just look familiar. That's all."

Liar. He was obviously lying to me. But I would get back to him later.

Nevertheless, I obeyed his instructions and proceeded along a corridor until I entered the walk-in dressing room.

I knocked once before entering—and stood still.

Dante Valentino was standing in front of a mirror, half-dressed. His back was turned to me, shirt loose over his shoulders. And his physique… God. A work of art carved from darkness and pigment. Tattoos wrapped around his arms and ribcage—deliberate, threatening scars that screamed mafia. Lina was right.

He spun, pulling up his shirt as our gazes met. Unflappable. Chilling. Beautiful.

He nodded at a bunch of ties on the dresser. "Pick one."

I inched over to the table, trailing my fingers over a deep blue tie. It looked solid. Simple. Like him.

"Good choice," he said. "Can you tie it?"

"Yes," I said. I hadn't done it since I woke up from that incident but I had a feeling I would know how to tie it perfectly.

He closed in. "Then come."

I picked it up and stood on my toes because of the height difference but he bent down a little for me to have access. I smiled at his little gesture and folded the tie around the collar of his shirt. He didn't move—just looked at me. Intently. Quietly.

His eyes burned.

And then it hit me.

A flash—so real I nearly fell off my feet.

Long hair. A bright smile. A man moving toward me.

"My love."

His face was a blur. But the voice—clear. Familiar. I had heard that voice recently.

Agony shot through my head, sudden and swift. My knees buckled.

Dante grabbed me before I hit the floor. His arms were solid, unyielding. My head was against his chest. It felt… familiar.

I squirmed away quickly. "Sorry. I—I didn't mean to—"

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle.

"I'm fine," I lied. "Just a headache. It'll pass."

He studied me for a fraction too long. Then nodded. "Go to the study. Get what I'll need to the office today."

I nodded and ran out. My heart still racing.

The study was huge. Old books lined it. Thick pieces of furniture lined it. It smelled like power.

I ran my hand along the spines of his books, trying to catch myself. And then I saw it.

A picture on the desk, in a frame.

I picked it up—and the world just came to a stop.

The woman in the photo… it was me. Same face. Same eyes. Just different hair length.

My hands were shaking. I dropped it. The glass broke.

No. No, no, no…

I got down and picked it up again, staring hard at it.

Who was she?

Who was I?

And then I felt it—the shift in the mood.

Dante stood in the doorway.

He came over to me, took the frame from my hands, his jaw set.

I'd managed to get the mafia angry on my first day.

And this time, I wasn't so sure that I was going to survive.