Lissy Romano

117| Still single.

Vincenzo Romano

"I've already told you. If you can't keep your promises, there will be consequences," I said sharply.

"I... I'm sorry, I didn't m...mean to..." the pathetic excuse of a man in front of me stammered.

My temper snapped, and before he could say another word, I put a bullet between his eyes. His lifeless body crumpled to the floor.

I walked out of his house, heading toward the car. People like him—how do they even think they can get away with things? How can they lie to my face and think there will be no price to pay?

I had to get home. Lissy was finally back. Something had happened back at Federico's apartment, and I needed to know what.

Just as I sat in the driver's seat, my phone rang. I pulled it from my pocket.

"Domenico, what's up?" I asked, starting the engine.

"Just come home, Lissy needs you," Domenico replied, his voice laced with worry.

"I'm on my way," I said, hanging up and speeding down the road.

Less than fifteen minutes later, I parked the car in front of the mansion and rushed inside.

I was about to head upstairs to Lissy's room when Santino suddenly appeared in front of me.

"It's good to see you, brother," I said, pulling him into a tight hug.

"I missed you too," Santino chuckled, looking at me with a familiar glint in his eyes.

"Where is she?" I asked, feeling the tension in my chest.

"In the living room, watching a movie with Domenico and Giovanni," he answered. "She met Jose," he added, and my stomach dropped.

"What? That drug dealer?" I asked, my voice rising in disbelief.

"Yeah, he had business with Federico," Santino explained.

"What business? A drug dealer and the Italian mafia don't exactly make business partners," I said, my tone hard and skeptical.

"I know, but that's what happened," he shrugged.

"And what happened afterward?" I pressed, the unease in my chest deepening.

"He wanted to get her to talk, but she refused. Then he punched Matteo," Santino explained.

"That bastard," I muttered, clenching my jaw.

"She's feeling guilty about it. You should talk to her," Santino said, his voice tinged with concern.

"Why would she feel guilty?" I asked, bewildered.

"I don't know, but she does. And she needs to hear from you that you don't blame her," he replied, a pleading edge in his words.

I nodded, clenching my jaw tighter. "Alright."

We walked together to the living room, and when we entered, I saw my baby girl. She was lying between Giovanni and Domenico, watching a movie, but as soon as she saw me, she rushed toward me.