The Mafia's Jewel (BWWM)

26

I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest as the sight of Leone hits me like a punch to the gut. The world narrows to just him and me. Vittoria stands beside me, her face ashen and stricken with terror. Her grip on her son tightens as if she's trying to shield him from the impending danger.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demand, my voice quivering despite my attempt to sound steady. The question hangs heavily in the air, charged with fear and anger.

Leone's eyes narrow as he surveys the crowd with a cold, calculating gaze. His smirk remains, a cruel twist of amusement amidst the chaos. "The most important question is, what are you doing here?" His tone is dripping with menace, a reminder of the threat he poses.

Vittoria steps protectively in front of me, her body language defiant even as her eyes betray her fear. "This is a funeral," she says, her voice trembling but firm. "How dare you desecrate this day?"

Leone's smirk widens, as if her anger is merely entertainment. "Am I not invited? I once knew Elio too," he says, his voice dripping with condescension. His casual demeanor in the face of such tragedy is chilling.

"I hope you and your rotten family burn in hell for eternity, you figlio di un demone!" Vittoria's curse is fierce and raw, her voice carrying the weight of her grief and anger. Her words slice through the tension, but Leone remains unfazed. The glares and curses directed at him seem to slide off his steely composure.

Other people in the background join in to curse at Leone and the mafia which seem to have put an edge on Leone by the way the corner of his lips twitch.

Bang!

Without warning, a gunshot rings out, the sound cutting through the garden like a knife. Screams erupt from the guests, who are now in full-blown panic. Some stumble over each other in their desperate attempts to flee, while others huddle together, their faces etched with terror. Leone's men maintain a tight perimeter, their presence a grim wall that ensures no one can approach him or escape.

Vittoria's hand tightens around her son, her eyes darting between me and Leone. "What do you want from us?" she demands, her voice cracking under the pressure.

Leone's gaze shifts to me, his eyes cold and calculating. "I want you to remember who's in control, Vittoria. Just because you've married into another family doesn't make you exempt from your duties to the Montes."

The weight of Leone's gaze is palpable, a stark reminder of the dangerous world we're ensnared in. His words are a clear threat, underscoring the precariousness of our situation. The once peaceful garden now feels like a battleground.

Leone's attention shifts to Vittoria's son, and I feel a chill run down my spine. His gaze is unsettlingly cold as he steps closer to the child. "How old is he?" Leone asks, his voice carrying an unsettling calmness that stands in stark contrast to the chaos.

"Stay away from my son!" Vittoria's voice is laced with desperation as she moves to shield her child, her fear palpable.

"He's one year old, boss," Camellia, one of Leone's men, answers respectfully, her tone neutral despite the tense situation. Camellia's professional demeanor remains intact, her eyes flicking between Leone and me with a mix of concern and resignation.

Leone's smirk widens, satisfaction radiating from him like a dark cloud. "Oh, bene. Grazie, Camellia," he says, his tone dripping with condescension as he gives a slight nod to Camellia, who remains at a careful distance. Leone's gaze remains fixed on the boy, his eyes cold and calculating.

"In the next 17 years, he will take over where his lazy grandfather started," Leone continues, his voice carrying a chilling certainty. The words reverberate through the garden, their dark implications heavy and suffocating. The once serene setting now feels like a backdrop to a grim prophecy.

Vittoria's face drains of color, her eyes widening in horror. She takes a tentative step back, her movement almost imperceptible as she tries to create some distance between herself and the menace before her. Her expression is a mix of fear, anger, and helplessness, a visceral reaction to the dire threat looming over her child.

"No..." she whispers, her voice breaking under the strain. The single word is a plea, a desperate cry against the inevitability of Leone's intentions. Her gaze flits around the garden, seeking any possible escape or way to protect her son, but the scene is locked in a nightmarish stasis. The guests are huddled together, their faces reflecting a shared terror that does nothing to mitigate the danger.

"Leone, this isn't fair," I plead, trying to keep my voice steady despite the fear gripping me. "He's just a baby—"

"Shut your mouth, Jules," Leone snaps, his eyes flashing with anger. His glare is sharp and cutting. "I think I've been too nice to you. Now you feel you can control me. Well, I'm going to do something about that once we return."

With that, Leone turns on his heel, signaling for his men to follow him. The group begins to move, leaving behind a scene of chaos and fear. Vittoria and I exchange a look, our shared terror and resolve palpable. We both know that we need to find a way to handle this situation quickly.

Camellia approaches me, her expression a mix of professional detachment and hidden concern. "Get in the car, Jules," she says, her tone firm but not unkind.

"Why are you taking his side?" I ask, my voice tinged with confusion and hurt.

Camellia grabs my arm gently but with authority. "You better listen to me for your sake," she says, her eyes reflecting a mix of regret and practicality. Her position demands professionalism, but there's an undercurrent of concern for me.

I exchange a glance with Vittoria. Her eyes are filled with a mixture of defiance and desperation, and I can see the determination in her gaze. We need to navigate this perilous situation carefully, and fast. The reality of our predicament is sinking in, and the road ahead promises to be fraught with danger that awaits me.