Page 10 of Sweet Revenge

She shook her head.

I sighed and poured some of the steaming liquid into my own cup, then added a bit of cream.

"Did your father's death mean that much to you that you have no more reason to live yourself?" I asked, stirring the hot beverage with my spoon. The small utensil clinked against the china prettily.

She shook her head. "I'm all alone now that my father is dead. I don't see any point in living, other than to avenge his murder. That thought is what has kept me going these past four years."

A knot tightened in my stomach. What she didn’t know was that I had been there that night. My father had brought me to serve as the lookout when they went to collect from Giuseppe. I remembered the sound of the gunshot, telling me that he’d failed to make good on his payment. Guilt washed over me now. I had never known the type of true love and devotion Adriana felt for her father.

All I had ever known was the mafia—the business. But Adriana was different. She was driven by her heart and a desire for justice, even if it was misguided. I found myself drawn to her in ways I had never known.

I summoned Alfonso to the room. "Are you going to eat?" I asked Adriana.

She shook her head. "No."

“Fine. Alfonso, kindly escort her back to her quarters," I ordered.

I watched as the butler led her out of the dining room. She kept her head held high, regal as a queen.

Alone in the dining room, I was conflicted. I found myself caring about Adriana's welfare. I wanted her to live. I realized I wasn't scared of my father as I once used to be. I wasn't a child anymore. I was capable, smart, and powerful in my own right.

As I sat there, my thoughts racing, I made a decision. I wouldn't tell Carmine about Adriana. And I wouldn't kill her. Instead, I was going to help her escape.

I remained at the table, even though I had lost my appetite. I was lost in my thoughts. I had always believed my loyalty to my father was unshakable. But now, I was beginning to question everything I had ever known. Adriana had awakened something in me, something I couldn't ignore.

As the morning light filtered into the room, I knew my life was about to change. I had no idea what the future held, but I was determined to find out. For the first time in my life, I was making a choice for myself, not out of fear or duty, but out of a genuine desire to do what I felt was right.

And that choice was Adriana.

The hours that followed were a blur of conflicting emotions and memories. I found myself replaying the events of my childhood, searching for moments of clarity amidst the chaos. My mother had been a gentle soul, always quick with a smile, but there was a sadness in her eyes that I hadn't understood until I was older. Her laughter, once a constant presence in our home, had faded over time, replaced by a tense silence whenever my father was around.

I remembered one night in particular. I had been about five or six years old, lying in bed and listening to the hushed argument between my parents in the next room. My mother had been crying, her voice pleading with my father for something I couldn't quite make out. Carmine's voice had been cold, unyielding. That was the night I realized that fear was the foundation of our family, not love.

As I grew older, I learned to navigate the treacherous waters of our household. I became adept at reading my father's moods, knowing when to stay out of his way and when to seek his approval. My loyalty was not born out of love, but out of survival. Carmine was a force of nature, the leader of our organization and the Capuzzo family, and defying him was unthinkable.

But now, with Adriana, I was beginning to see things differently. Her defiance, born out of her unwavering love for her father, stirred something in me. She was willing to sacrifice everything for the memory of a man who had loved her unconditionally. It was a love I had never known, but one I couldn't help but admire. She was a child of love, and despite her protestations, her heart still bled from being so full of it. I wondered what it would feel like to be the recipient.

As the day wore on, I found myself drawn back to the suite where Adriana was being held. I needed to see her, to understand what it was about her that made me question everything I had ever believed. When I entered the room, she was sitting by the window, staring out at the garden. She turned to look at me, her expression unreadable.

"Why are you here?" she asked, her voice tinged with exhaustion.

I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I wanted to talk to you. To understand."

"Understand what?" she asked, her tone skeptical.

"Everything," I replied, moving to sit across from her. We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of our shared pain hanging between us. I had never opened myself up to anyone like this before, and it felt strangely liberating.

"Do you really think killing my father will bring you peace?" I asked finally.

She looked away, her expression pained. "I don't know. But it's the only thing I have left. The only thing that keeps me going."

I reached out, gently taking her hand in mine and turning it over, palm up. I traced the lifeline with my fingertip. "There has to be more to life than vengeance. You are good, Adriana. Forgo this quest you are on before it is too late. You deserve a chance to find happiness, to live without this burden."

Adriana looked at me, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and despair. "And what about you, Luca? What do you want?"

I lifted her palm to my lips, not breaking eye contact, and planted a soft kiss inside.

“To help you.”