Carmen DeLuca grew up in an abusive with her father abusing her almost every day she always wanted to be free and live a peaceful life alone far from her family only for her to be deprived from it.
Ace Russo a tall sexy ruthless Italian mafia boss w...
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At the airport terminal a private jet waiting. The sun is just starting to rise over the tarmac. I walk between Ace and Nicco, small and silent in my hoodie and jeans, sleeves covering my wrists. My suitcase rolls behind me, but my steps are sluggish. Eyes distant.
Ace walks ahead with his whore I assume is Veronica not once looking back. Nicco stays beside me, gaze flicking toward me every few steps like he's waiting for her to just collapse.
Nicco come around and gently put his arms across to my left shoulder holding me gently "You okay?" he asked
"I'm fine Nicco" I replied with a gentle smile
Nicco stopped in front of me gently blocking my path "You don't have to lie. Not to me."
I look up at him—tired, glassy-eyed. There's no fight left, just survival. "I just want to get through today."
Nicco sighs, brushing my hair out of my face like an older brother would. "Alright. One day at a time, yeah? You get on that plane, you sit far from him, and I'll make sure you're not alone once we land."
I nod again, swallowing hard. Then Ace's voice cuts through the moment like a blade "Are we having another one of your heart-to-heart therapy sessions? Because I'd love to get off the ground sometime this decade."
I rolled my eyes a clicked my tongue, I found veronica's eyes on me and she looked me up and down before smirking and turning back to the plane ahead.
"You know Nicco, for someone who supposedly detests me, you sure spend a lot of time playing house with my wife." He gets closer, standing just beside me now. He looks down at me with that half-lidded, cocky smirk
"What's the plan, sweetheart? You going to cry the whole flight or just half of it?"
"Neither."
"Progress. Who knew starvation came with a backbone?"
He turns, walking toward the plane with zero urgency while holding Veronica tightly I swear I wished he married her instead of me. Like he owns the runway.
We arrived in Italy late Afternoon. The black car rolls through winding Tuscan hills, olive trees on either side, until it pulls up in front of a massive estate. Old stone, manicured gardens, iron gates—everything screams power, control, and history.]
I stare out the window, small hands clenching my fists together. My breath fogs the glass. It's beautiful—but in a way that feels... hollow. Like the kind of beauty that eats people alive from the inside.
Ace is sitting beside me, legs spread, Veronic on his lap, sunglasses still on. Nicco's in the passenger seat, quietly watching the house grow bigger and bigger through the windshield.
The driver opens the door. Ace steps out first, Helping Veronic out the car cool and composed. I follow, my legs trembling slightly as my feet hit the gravel. My suitcase is pulled out behind her.
