The Mafia Princess

chapter 3

As the days went by, Serafina found herself growing more comfortable within the sprawling mansion. It was strange, this place that had once felt so intimidating was slowly becoming a space of warmth and safety. She'd always dreamed of having a real family, but the reality of it was more intense than she'd imagined. Every room echoed with laughter, arguments, and the sounds of life that had been absent in her old, quiet home.

Her brothers took turns spending time with her, each one leaving a different impression. Luca was easygoing, his humor helping her relax and settle in. He showed her around the estate, pointing out places he and his brothers had hidden away during their own childhoods. Enzo, as the eldest, had a quiet confidence and watched over her like a hawk. She noticed him subtly glancing her way during every meal, ensuring she was comfortable, checking if she needed anything. Enzo's protectiveness made her feel safe, though she still felt the guarded edge that lingered in his expression, like he was sizing her up.

And then there was Marco. Playful and charming, he had an energy that was nearly contagious. He insisted on teaching her to play pool in one of the mansion's many rooms, making her laugh with his silly antics and exaggerated groans every time she beat him by accident.

"Did you grow up with...so many people always around?" she asked Marco one afternoon as they shot another game of pool. She'd taken to wandering the house after breakfast, usually finding Marco, Matteo, or Luca lounging around, eager to show her their side of the family.

Marco grinned, leaning on his cue stick. "Oh yeah, growing up here is like living with your own personal squad. Of course, you probably figured out by now, we're not exactly an ordinary family."

Serafina glanced at him, a tinge of apprehension rising in her chest. She still wasn't entirely sure what her father's "business" entailed, though there were whispers and murmurs about it that followed her like shadows. Marco's playful demeanor softened when he noticed her expression.

"Listen, you don't have to worry about any of that," he said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "It's true that our family is...involved in some complicated things. But you're our sister. That makes you untouchable." He flashed her a reassuring smile. "Got it?"

She managed a small nod, trying to let his words sink in. It felt surreal, having people look out for her so intensely, people who would actually go to war for her if need be. For years, she had only herself to rely on. Now, in this house, it was as if she'd gained a small army of protectors.

Later that evening, she found herself in the library, which had quickly become her favorite place in the mansion. As she ran her fingers along the rows of books, Enzo entered, carrying a steaming mug of tea. He handed it to her with a small, almost shy smile.

"I noticed you prefer tea over coffee," he said, his voice low but warm. "I had the kitchen prepare it for you."

Surprised by the gesture, Serafina accepted it with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Enzo. I didn't expect..."

He shrugged. "It's the least we can do. You've missed out on a lot, being away all these years. We just want to make you feel at home."

His words hit her unexpectedly hard, and she found herself blinking back tears. The kindness they showed her was overwhelming, especially coming from these strong, confident men who seemed so larger-than-life.

Just then, Matteo entered, quiet and observant as always. He carried a sketchpad and sat down on a nearby couch, giving her a small nod of acknowledgment. In the time she'd been here, Matteo hadn't said much, but his presence was a constant, steady and reassuring. She'd found him sketching the family estate, their brothers, even glimpses of her when he thought she wasn't looking.

"Matteo draws everything around here," Enzo explained with a slight grin. "He's got stacks of these sketchpads from over the years. Our own family artist."

Matteo rolled his eyes but didn't deny it. Instead, he flipped open the sketchbook to a fresh page and looked up at her. "You want to join?" he asked quietly, gesturing to an empty chair nearby.

Nodding, Serafina settled down next to him, watching as he began to draw, his hand moving across the page with ease. As she watched him work, she felt a small spark of joy, a sensation that had been foreign to her for so long. Here, in this room, surrounded by her brothers, she was beginning to feel something she had feared she'd never find—belonging.

They sat in companionable silence, her fingers wrapped around the warm mug, the steady scratching of Matteo's pencil filling the room. It was a simple moment, but in its simplicity, it was profound. She had found a family—a real family—and for the first time, she allowed herself to believe that she might truly be home.

Serafina relaxed into the armchair, letting her guard down just a little more with each passing moment. Being with her brothers felt like peeling away years of armor she hadn't even known she'd built. In the past, survival had meant blending in, staying quiet, and enduring. Here, surrounded by these men who seemed ready to protect her from even a passing shadow, she found herself daring to feel safe.

"You look like you have a million questions," Marco said, breaking the silence as he joined them in the library. He perched on the arm of the chair next to her, his grin warm and reassuring. "This whole mafia thing isn't exactly...normal, I know. We've all grown up in it, so I guess it's a bit different for us."

She hesitated, her fingers tapping the mug. "How...how did you all come to terms with it? With knowing that the world sees you as dangerous?"

Marco's grin faded slightly as he exchanged a look with Enzo. After a pause, he turned back to her, his expression softened by something deeper. "It's not easy," he admitted. "But for us, family has always come first. Everything we do, we do to protect each other. And now, you're part of that too."

Enzo nodded, stepping closer. "It's a life built on loyalty. We don't expect you to understand it all right away. But you're a part of us now, and that means our loyalty is yours too."

Serafina felt a lump form in her throat. Their unwavering devotion to each other was something she could only dream of. It was hard to believe it could be directed toward her. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. She looked at them, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "I... I never thought I'd have a family like this. A family that...wanted me."

Her brothers went silent, sharing glances of understanding. Enzo reached out, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. "You'll never be alone again, Serafina. Whatever you went through, it's in the past now. We're here, and we're not going anywhere."

For the first time, she truly believed him. Each of them was giving her a sense of security she'd never known before, and a feeling that maybe, just maybe, she could start letting go of the pain of her past.

Later that evening, as the brothers gathered for dinner, Serafina observed the easy way they interacted, bantering and laughing as if they'd never known a dark moment. She joined in as best she could, trying to ignore the ache in her chest. She knew that with every day, every smile, she was starting to break free of the hurt she'd carried for so long.

But even as she began to feel like a part of the family, a question lingered at the back of her mind, a question that she couldn't yet bring herself to ask: What would be expected of her now that she was part of this world? And what did it mean to truly belong to a family as powerful—and as feared—as theirs?