Sinscared Series #1
A forbidden love.
A betrayal lurking in the shadows.
And a world built on blood, deception, and vengeance.
In the ruthless world of the Italian mafia, loyalty is power, betrayal is death, and love... is a dangerous game.
Serafi...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The moment Lucien and I break apart, all this weight was like it washed off over me .
It felt like I shed a second skin; that came with being Serafina Moretti, wife, underboss, protector, heiress.
All of it dissolved into just. me.
For the first time in as long as I can remember, I wasn't anyone's responsibility or burden.
I wasn't trying to please expectations of anyone else; I was just a woman cutting lose in the streets of Santorini on that whole night.
The sky was a painting in deep oranges and purple, the sun disappearing over the horizon, casting a golden glow on the island.
A sense of exhilaration welled inside me. I wasn't in business today.
I wasn't watching my back for a problem.
I wasn't any wife or future mafia queen.
I was just a 21-year-old woman in a foreign land, where the whole night lay stretched out before me like a tabula rasa.
It felt strange at first, blindly walking without knowing where I was going. There was no plan, no calculated next step.
I wandered along the curvy streets through streams of tourists and locals alike getting lost for the very first time within.
Nobody knew that I was here. I could be anybody. And it was thrilling.
A small café had been tucked between two buildings.
I hadn't eaten yet. Too much was too perfect to fill that hunger that sat in my stomach, reminding me I was alive, here and now, experiencing it all on my terms.
Chairs spilled into the cobblestone street. The combination of freshly baked bread and coffee drenched in a pinch of salt from seas elsewhere filled the air.
I slipped in and let the cool caress of the ceiling fan on my skin.
I got myself grilled fish like any girl in Santorini would.
I sat at a small wooden table with an open cup of strong brew in my hands.
The weight of my usual life felt lighter.
People passed, and went about their evening:
Locals vivaciously speaking Greek, tourists taking photos, and the air was full of laughter.
For the first time in my life, I let myself just sit there, taking it in without thinking or analyzing.
No thoughts about threats, no need to plot.
Just be here, just another face in the crowd.
I leaned back on my chair, closed my eyes for a minute and listened to people chattering all around me with hushed tones.