Fossa Dei Leone (Lion’s Den)

Ricardo's POV

Angelo and I step out of the car, both of us are wearing dark sunglasses despite the late hour. The streets are nearly empty. The five-star diner on Fille Royale is discreet—no flashy signs, no unnecessary attention. Just the way we like it.

We walk inside, and we smell the scent of expensive cigars and whiskey in the air. The lighting is dim. We slide our sunglasses off at the same time, pocketing them as a waiter leads us to a secluded booth in the back.

As soon as we sit down, Angelo exhales, running a hand through his neatly styled hair. "Thank goodness for Jose," he mutters. "If not for him, we'd probably be rotting in jail by now."

I chuckle, reaching for the glass of red wine already placed on the table. "In all our eighteen years of doing this shit, never for once have we been behind bars. It's not because of some senator's daughter that we'd find ourselves in that pig hole." I smirk, taking a sip.

Angelo chuckles along. He leans forward slightly, lowering his voice. "Why the fuck is Inzaghi so hell-bent on thinking we deliberately implicated him? We made sure the heat was on him, yeah, but he was already neck-deep in that mess before we even stepped in."

I sigh, swirling the wine in my glass before setting it down. "Because he knows our father." I say calmly. "He knows that if not you, then me—I'm our father's son. Which means I'm capable of betraying him, regardless of my situation with Antonella."

Angelo scoffs, shaking his head. "That old fucker should be grateful he's still breathing. We could've wiped him out if we really wanted to."

I don't argue. He's not wrong.

The waiter approaches, placing a bottle of whiskey between us along with two crystal glasses. He pours without a word, then disappears just as quickly.

Angelo takes a sip, then glances at me. "How are the kids? How are things at home?" His voice is casual, but I know him too well. He's gauging my reaction.

"They're fine," I reply. "Isabella is doing good, Maria is doing great."

"And Antonella?" He gives me a pointed look.

I exhale through my nose, leaning back. "She's getting too angry these days."

Angelo's jaw tightens. "You cheating again?"

I chuckle, shaking my head. "You act like it's something new."

"That's not an answer, Ricardo."

I smirk. "A man has needs. And those needs need to be taken care of. I can't dance to one tune forever."

Angelo's eyes shifted downwards. "So you have another girl?"

I scoff, taking another sip of my drink. "She's not my girl yet."

Angelo runs a hand down his face, clearly exasperated. He never approves of the way I treat Antonella, but he also knows I'm not about to change. It's not in my nature.

He lets out a long sigh, shaking his head. "You know she doesn't deserve that shit, right?"

"She knew who she married."

Angelo mutters something under his breath but doesn't push further. He knows it's pointless.

Instead, he changes the subject. "Whenever Inzaghi's ready to meet, we have to be prepared. We can't risk him finding out the truth." He sets his glass down with a dull thud. "If he does, he'll have all our heads on a fucking spike."

I smirk, tilting my glass towards him before taking another sip.

"He won't find out," I assure him. "Because we won't let him."

Lana's POV

The door opens up and my body stiffens. I don't see anyone, just shadows shifting. But I hear it. The slow sound of footsteps approaching.

I swallow hard. I can hear my pulse pounding in my ears.

"Who's there?" I call out.

But there is only silence. I am afraid. The footsteps continue. Whoever it is, they're not in a rush. They know I have nowhere to go. And then I see him.

Luca.

He steps into the light. He looks ruthless. Unforgiving. Like a man who has never once hesitated before pulling a trigger.

"You're Luca, right?" I manage to speak.

He doesn't answer. His silence annoys me. Instead, he drops a large bag onto the chair beside me. The logo of an exclusive designer brand catches the light. A bag full of luxury clothing.

I frown. "What is this?"

Still, there is no response.

He kneels beside me and he unties the restraints on my wrists and ankles. My skin stings from the rope, but I barely notice. I'm too focused on him. On the way he moves with such diabolical intent.

"What are you doing?" I ask, my voice is louder now. "Why am I here?"

Luca doesn't acknowledge my question. He stands, grabs my arm, and pulls me to my feet so fast my head spins.

"Change," he orders.

I blink at him. "What?"

He gestures towards my clothes. "Don't wear that." His eyes scan me. "Your jogging outfit is too tempting."

"Excuse me?"

Without another word, he reaches for the bag and pulls out a silk dress; deep red and expensive, the kind of thing a mistress wears in a high-end penthouse. Then another. A black one. Then another, each is more revealing than the last.

I cross my arms. "And these aren't tempting?"

Luca shrugs, he is unfazed. "It's what Capó wants." He says flatly.

Capó?

Luca turns his back to me. "Change."

I don't move. "I'm not comfortable with this."

A muscle ticks in his jaw. "Change."

I swallow hard. I want to be defiant, but I know better than to push right now. My hands tremble slightly as I take the dress from the bag. I slip out of my tank top and sweatpants, trading them for the silk dress. It clings to my body in ways that make me so uncomfortable.

When I'm done, Luca turns around.

His head tilted as his eyes sweep over me. He inhales deeply, then extends his hand. "Your jogging fit."

I hesitate. "Why?"

"Give it to me." He ordered.

Confused, I hand him my tank top and sweatpants. He takes them without another word, turns, and heads for the door.

I'm so confused that I call out to him. "Wait."

He doesn't stop.

"Where are you going?" I call after him.

Luca glances over his shoulder. "I'm leaving."

"You're leaving me alone?"

He doesn't even hesitate. "I am. And don't you dare think of escaping."

"What's stopping me from escaping?" I say with defiance.

Luca smirks. He stops and steps closer. His breath is warm against my ear as he murmurs in Italian. I don't know what it means.

"Stai attenta. Sei nella fosso dei leone." (Be careful. You're in the lion's den. )

And then, without another word, he's gone.