The dull, throbbing pain pounding in my temples gradually chases away the fog of my restless sleep. My brows furrow as my senses awaken.

Nothing. I don't recognize anything—the smell, the feel of the sheets. I sit up abruptly and take a deep breath before falling back onto the pillow.

What an idiot, I'm at Ezio's place.

This thought immediately revives the memories of the previous night, fueling the fire of my desire for revenge.

I'm going to make them regret messing with Nonna and me.

With determined steps, I head to the bathroom to wash up and get ready before joining Ezio in the living room. With his back to me and facing the window, his attention is absorbed by his phone conversation.

"I told you I'm taking responsibility. I keep my word. She won't be a problem... Yes, I know, otherwise, we'll do it your way. Yes... okay, bye."

"Who were you talking to ?"

Ezio turns around, eyebrows raised and mouth slightly open, evidently not having heard me come down.

"My father, nothing important."

"You were talking about me ?"

"Yes, but don't worry, I have the situation under control. How are you feeling ?"

"I'm feeling well enough to talk about my revenge."

"Your revenge ?" he asks, frowning.

"Don't tell me you're surprised."

"No, I'm just surprised you've reached that stage so quickly."

"I have nothing left, Ezio. I have to be at this stage if I want to move forward; staying in bed will get me nowhere."

"Go ahead, I'm listening." he replies, his eyes locked onto mine, his shoulder leaning against the window.

"I want to join the mafia." I declare.

For the first time, I hear Ezio's laugh. The moment is suspended by this genuine, spontaneous, and warm burst of laughter. Without realizing it, he sends my heart spinning in a whirlwind of budding desires. Deep within my soul, a flurry of butterflies takes flight, awakening a cascade of unforeseen sensations.

What the hell are you doing May ! Pull yourself together !

Not wanting him to glimpse the emergence of this disarming vulnerability, I discreetly regain my composure and clear my throat.

"Sorry, but you don't just join the mafia. You're either born into it or you marry into it, but you don't become a member like that—it's not the army." Ezio responds naturally, much to my relief, indicating he hasn't discerned my thoughts.

"I will earn my place. Let me prove that I can be a part of it."

Now it's Ezio's turn to clear his throat.

"Listen, it's not that simple. Let me talk to my father about it first."

As if on cue, the ding of the elevator interrupts us. Before our widened eyes steps out a man in his sixties, charismatic, bearing an obvious resemblance to Ezio. With the same intense eyes, he sports a well-trimmed, salt-and-pepper stubble that matches his short-cropped hair.

"Good morning, my son and... May, I presume ?" he begins, hands in his pockets, walking towards us with such confident strides that one might think he owns the world.

"Father, " Ezio greets him in a distant, cold tone, "this is her. And May, this is Raphael, my father."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Madini." I greet him, extending my hand, which he looks at without shaking.

"I wish I could say the same, young lady."

In response to his curt tone, I lower my hand, which had only grasped the void, and hold his gaze, attempting to read him without success.

" What brings us the honor of your visit, Father ?" interjects Ezio, not giving me a chance to retort.

Without diverting his icy stare from me, Raphael replies in the same harsh tone.

— I'll be direct. May, you are a problem for me—more precisely, your notoriety. I don't want to shine a spotlight on my family, much less on our business. Your unfortunate involvement in recent events is going to hit the headlines far too quickly, and questions will start pouring in. I want us to come to an arrangement so that you can leave our lives and never be connected to us again.

Stunned, I swallow and clench my now sweaty hands at my sides.

"Listen, I never wanted any of this. Six years ago, I just wanted to help Ezio without considering the consequences..."

"That's exactly your problem, you don't think about the consequences, neither of you," he interrupts, the warmth of anger seeping into his voice. "Ezio, what were you thinking when you made that promise to Granny ? She would have died anyway ! You know very well that in the mafia, a promise is gold, so you only make it when necessary, and it wasn't necessary !"

"Stop, I won't let you continue. May saved me that night; you should be grateful to her for saving your last living son ! It was natural for me to make that promise, and even if I hadn't, I would have sought out May !"

At these words, my heart races, reigniting the fluttering of butterflies in my stomach.

Could there be more than just a promise bringing us together?

"Don't blame her for everything that happened ! The animosity between our families goes back much further than our generation, so they find any pretext to come after us, admit it ! May has paid enough for all of this !" he defends me.

"Ezio, Ezio, can't you think with something other than your dick or your heart for once ? You're pathetic; whether it's sex or love, these stories have no place in our family ! You know very well it makes us weak in the eyes of our enemies. They use it against us, and you're foolish enough to make deals to save this illusory relationship. You're losing your mind, my son; wake up, she'll be your downfall !"

"You're the pathetic one for being so stubborn and narrow-minded. You know what ? May is going to join the mafia and become our ally to take revenge on the Condore whether you like it or not, and I'll take responsibility." Ezio asserts.

"Do you hear yourself, my son ? Do you realize the gravity of your words ? Including an ignorant girl, and a famous one at that, in our mafia is signing our death warrant ! I can't let you trample the Madini name like that !"

"Father, you're nearing retirement; a new recruit wouldn't be such a bad idea. May is young and learns quickly. She'll become a true mafiosa by the time you retire. Give her a chance, I'll train her."

A short silence ensues, during which Raphael scrutinizes his son with a severe, unreadable face. Without knowing what's going through his mind, it's easy to imagine the gears of his thoughts turning.

After a few seconds, a smile that bodes ill subtly replaces the evident disappointment inspired by Ezio that was displayed on his face moments earlier.

"As the future head of the mafia, this is your first decision and perhaps your last. It can change everything. You have one chance, don't miss it, because I won't miss you," he announces in a calm but threatening tone before looking at me with all the hatred I inspire in him. "You will hear from me soon with your first task."

He barely finishes his sentence before disappearing behind the elevator doors, leaving behind a heavy, doubt-laden silence.

Without certainty and feeling nervous, I decide to break the ice.

"Hmm, thank you for standing up for me. I know it must have cost you, and I'm sincerely grateful. I won't disappoint you."

"I hope so, because otherwise, death awaits you," he states, turning to me with a grave expression. "It's not me you should fear disappointing, but my father. Get ready, we have a lot of work ahead of us." he warns, still caught in the flames of anger, before leaving me alone with my anxiety.

Feeling helpless, I isolate myself on the terrace to get some air. With my elbows on the railing and my head in my hands, I massage my temples while breathing deeply. The vibration of my phone catches my attention. My brows furrow at the notification from the national newspaper.

"Devastating Fire: Singer May Torre's Apartment Destroyed"

Damn, they didn't waste any time.

I scroll through the article, finding the only interesting piece of information in the mention of the possible cause. The Condore brothers have apparently managed to pass it off as a domestic incident due to an electrical overload. An investigation is underway to determine the exact causes, but in summary, the possibility of arson is ruled out.

Damn mafiosi thinking they're above everything. You messed with the wrong person.

With a clenched jaw and tensed fists, I do my duty as a public figure and post a thank you message to the firefighters on my social media.

About to put my phone away, I glance at it again when it vibrates. Responses to my post come quickly. I scroll through them until one makes me smile and furrow my brow at the same time.

"@MayTorreMusicOfficial,

I just heard the terrible news about the fire in your apartment. My thoughts are with you during this difficult time.

You are an incredibly strong and courageous artist, and I know you will overcome this challenge with the same grace and determination you put into your music. Never forget that your true fans, like me, are always here to support you, no matter the circumstances.

If you need anything, I'm always here for you. I know we don't know each other personally, but your art has touched my life so deeply that I feel a special connection with you.

Stay strong, May. We all love you and believe in you. With all my support, Gioele."

The warmth of his support smothers the chill attempting to creep into me. I focus on my evasive yet friendly response before this time, stifling my phone in my pocket.

In the early afternoon, Ezio joins me in the living room, dressed in a tracksuit, and asks me to follow him. Silently, we descend the stairs to a large gym. A boxing ring sits in the middle, surrounded by weight and cardio equipment.

"We're not going to have a boxing match, are we ?" I ask, seeking reassurance.

"No, I'd barely touch you before you hit the ground. That's not interesting," he mocks playfully. "We're going to improve your cardio and strengthen your muscles. I don't know what my father has planned for you, but either way, your body will be tested and pushed to its limits. I want to minimize the damage and train you as best as I can. But first, go change. There's a locker room behind that door, and you'll find workout clothes inside."

I head in the direction indicated and find the locker room. The right side is for showers, and the left side has lockers. I open one and find the clothes.

What's with this habit of having spare women's clothes?

Once changed, I join Ezio in the gym near the cardio machines.

After warming up, we move on to strength training. I head to the squat machine and get into position. I feel Ezio's presence behind me, then his hands on my hips. At his touch, I shiver, and my heart races. The butterflies resurface, coloring my cheeks with their fluttering.

He leans his head towards my neck, his lips brushing my skin. He then whispers in my ear:

"Let me help you get into the right position. I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

Still holding my hips, he presses his chest against my back and asks me to place my feet beside his. I comply, spreading my legs to position my feet as he instructed.

He steps away from me, allowing me to catch my breath. His intense, desirous gaze devours me. Without breaking eye contact, he lifts the bar and places it on my shoulders. I position my hands, and he corrects their placement. He returns behind me, raises the bar slightly, and wraps a foam pad around it. His fingers graze my neck, moving some of my hair aside, then he repositions the bar. Once again, he whispers in my ear, intensifying the beats of my heart:

"You're good to go."

He steps back and watches my movements. My concentration wavers under his fiery gaze that ignites my entire body.

"Enjoying the view ?" I articulate between breaths.

"It's hard not to be satisfied."

He lets me continue before moving on to other exercises, and we finish with stretches.

"Okay, you've worked hard enough for today. From now on, I want you to continue these routines in the morning, and in the afternoon, I'll teach you the basics of self-defense."

Still out of breath, I only give him a simple nod in response. As I struggle to catch my breath, he approaches me, lifts my chin with his fingers, and locks his oceanic eyes onto mine.

"We will meet my father's challenge and train you to be worthy of a mafiosa. We're a team—you're not alone. I believe in you."

Touched by his support, I smile at him. Drawn like a magnet, my gaze lowers to his lips, craving to know their taste. I lift my eyes and realize he's also devouring mine, which burn under the intensity of his gaze. He leans in, our mouths so close that our breaths mingle in a shared desire. Our pulses synchronize, harmonizing into one. Unable to resist my desire any longer, I close the distance and claim his lips—soft and powerful at once. With feigned tenderness, he responds to my kiss, placing his hand on my neck. As sexual tension infiltrates, the kiss becomes torrid and passionate, shortening our breaths. I'm caught off guard when Ezio breaks the contact.

"I'll let you take a shower. We'll meet upstairs." he murmurs, still breathless from the intensity of the kiss.

Aflame with desire, my heart takes over my lips, whispering an invitation to Ezio that my rational mind would have forbidden.

"You could join me."

The temptation spreads through his eyes, and despite his obvious desire to succumb, I sense his hesitation. Guided by his reason, he takes a step back.

"Believe me, it's hard to refuse you, but duty calls." he declines, his face torn by inner conflict.

I let him leave and head to the shower. As I relax, I think back to the conversation with his father, Ezio's words, the defense he took for me, Raphael's conclusion, and finally, the kiss we just shared.

With my hand on my lips, still tingling from Ezio's touch, I smile foolishly under the hot water.

Dressed, I climb the stairs, unable to shake off the silly grin. Halfway up, I freeze when I hear a female voice in addition to Ezio's. Without realizing it, the smile I found so hard to let go of vanishes instantly.

At the top of the stairs, my view clears to reveal a woman straight out of a Barbie factory, with the same amount of plastic in her body. With a flick of her hand, she sweeps her long, wavy blond hair back.

I can almost smell the plastic doll scent emanating from her hair.

In Ezio's arms, she kisses his cheek without taking her almond-shaped eyes off me, accompanied by a sly smile.

But who the hell is she?