CHAPTER 2: THE LAST GLIMPSE OF FREEDOM
SIMONE'S POV
(Six Hours Earlier)
The sunrise painted my bedroom walls gold, filtering through centuries-old windows that had witnessed generations of Alejandro brides on their wedding days.
I traced my fingers over the decorated vanity where my mother had once sat, where her mother had prepared before her.
Tradition. Duty. Legacy. The three pillars of my existence.
"Nervous?"
I looked over and saw Isabella—Izzy—lying on my bed. Her bright blonde hair stood out against my burgundy comforter.
My oldest friend stood out among the antique furniture in the Alejandro estate. She wore ripped jeans, combat boots, and a septum piercing that almost gave my father an aneurysm.
"Terrified," I admitted, allowing myself this one moment of honesty. In three hours, I would marry Rafael Russo, and these quiet confidences with Izzy would become memories.
She held herself up on one elbow. "It's not too late to run away with me to Barcelona. My offer still stands."
I laughed despite myself. "And have my father hunted us both down? He'd have the entire Mediterranean blockaded by sunset."
"Worth it," she said with a shrug, but her eyes remained serious. "Sim, are you sure about Rafael? Something about him just... I don't know. He reminds me of those designer handbags in Milan....pretty to look at but hollow inside."
"Izzy," I sighed, turning back to the mirror. My reflection stared back—high cheekbones, full lips, and ice-blue eyes that could freeze a room when necessary.
I hadn't always been this controlled, this perfect. Before my mother died, before I understood what being an Alejandro truly meant, I had been as wild as Izzy.
"We've talked about this. It doesn't matter what I think of Rafael. This marriage ends a war."
"So you're the sacrificial lamb?" She sat up fully now, anger flashing across her features. "That's bullshit and you know it."
"It's a duty," I corrected, the word heavy and familiar on my tongue. "And Rafael's not that bad. He's handsome, charming—"
"So's a cobra before it strikes," Izzy muttered. "I've seen how he looks at you when he thinks no one's watching. Like you're a prize he's won, not a woman he loves."
Before I could respond, a soft knock interrupted us. My father's most trusted bodyguard, Marco, entered after my acknowledgment.
"Don Alejandro requests your presence in his study, Miss Simone." His eyes flickered briefly to Izzy, dislike clear in his tight expression.
He'd never understood why the daughter of Sicily's most powerful crime lord maintained a friendship with a woman who operated on the fringes of our world, helping women escape abusive relationships...often within the very families we did business with.
"I'll be right there." I stood, smoothing the silk robe I wore. "Izzy..."
"Go," she said, waving me off with forced cheerfulness. "Duty calls. But I'll be here when you get back."
I found my father standing by the window of his study, hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the extensive Alejandro grounds.
Security had tripled for the wedding, armed men patrolling every corner of our estate. Today would bring the highest concentration of criminal power under one roof since the Naples summit of 1998.
"You wanted to see me, Papa?"
He turned, and for a moment, I caught something unexpected in his expression...regret? Worry? It vanished so quickly I might have imagined it.
"Simone." He gestured to the chair across from his massive oak desk. "Sit."
I obeyed, watching as he moved to a painting on the far wall, a Caravaggio worth millions, and swung it aside to reveal a wall safe.
The combination was entered with gifted ease, his broad back blocking my view of the contents. When he turned, he held a black velvet box.
"This belonged to your grandmother," he said, placing it before me. "And her mother before that."
I opened it carefully.
Inside lay a diamond and sapphire necklace, the stones catching light in a way that modern cuts never quite achieved. At its center hung a pendant, a sapphire the size of a quarter surrounded by detailed metalwork.
"It's beautiful," I whispered, genuine awe in my voice.
"It's more than beautiful," my father replied, his voice dropping. "It's protection."
He reached over, pressing a hidden mechanism on the pendant's side. With a soft click, the sapphire swung open, revealing a hollow case.
Inside glinted something decidedly modern...a tiny flash drive.
"Papa?" I questioned, looking up at him in confusion.
"Insurance," he said simply, closing the pendant with another soft click. "The Alejandro legacy is more complicated than you know, Mija. There are secrets even I've kept from you, for your safety."
He lifted the necklace from its box, moving behind me to fasten it around my throat. The weight of it...both physical and symbolic...settled against my skin.
"If anything happens," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper despite us being alone, "this contains everything you need. Names, accounts, evidence. But it's dangerous. Trust no one with it—not your uncles, not the capos, not even Rafael."
I reached up, fingers tracing the cold stones. "You're scaring me."
His hands squeezed my shoulders briefly. "Better scared than unprepared. I've protected you from the worst of our world, Simone. Perhaps too much." He paused, and I felt his hesitation.
"The Russos are powerful allies, but..."
"But what?" I turned to face him, alarm growing.
He shook his head, his face hardening back into the mask of Don Alejandro that the world knew. "Nothing. Wedding nerves are affecting us both." He kissed my forehead, a rare gesture.
"Wear this today. Keep it close. Now go finish preparing...a bride shouldn't keep the cathedral waiting."
As I rose to leave, he called after me.
"Simone?"
I paused at the door, looking back. "Yes, Papa?"
"Whatever happens, remember you are an Alejandro. That means something still in this world."
I nodded, a chill running down my spine despite the warm summer morning.
Back in my room, Izzy helped me into my wedding dress, neither of us mentioning how my hands trembled as she fastened the delicate buttons.
"Nice necklace," she commented, eyeing the sapphires.
"Family heirloom," I replied, the weight of the flash drive heavy against my skin. My father's warning echoed in my mind. 'Trust no one.'
Izzy's fingers paused at the top button. "I should tell you something," she said, her normally confident voice hesitant. "Last night, I overheard Rafael at that club in Palermo. He was with some woman, laughing about..."
"Stop." I held up my hand. "I don't want to know."
"But Sim..."
"It doesn't matter," I interrupted, meeting her gaze in the mirror. "This isn't about love, Izzy. It never was."
Her expression softened with pity. "That's what makes it so fucking sad."
She hugged me fiercely before leaving, both of us knowing she wouldn't be at the ceremony.
My father had explicitly forbidden it after her last quarrel with Rafael when she'd accused him of manipulating me in front of half our family associates.
"Take care of yourself, Alejandro," she whispered, using my surname like she always did when she was serious. "And remember—Barcelona's just a phone call away."
'If only I'd taken her offer."
(Present Time)
Blood. So much blood. It stained my hands, my dress, and my skin, turning the cathedral floor into a dreadful canvas of crimson and ivory.
I couldn't stop screaming as the golden-eyed stranger carried me down the aisle, past the bodies of security guards and wedding guests alike.
"Let me go!" I thrashed against his iron grip. "My father—I need to be with my father!"
"Your father is dead," he replied, his voice detached, clinical. "And you'll join him if you stay here."
Outside, chaos reigned. Police sirens wailed in the distance.
The wedding guests who had survived were fleeing in luxury cars, no one stopping to help the blood-soaked bride being carried toward a matte-black SUV with tinted windows.
"You don't understand," I gasped, beating my fists against his chest. "I can't leave him! I'm all he has—had—"
The stranger paused, adjusting his grip to look directly into my eyes. Those unnatural golden irises narrowed.
"Your father made enemies, princess. The ones who killed him will come for you next. Is that what you want? To die beside him?"
"Better than being kidnapped by his murderer," I spat, summoning all my Alejandro fury despite the tears streaming down my face.
Something dangerous flashed across his features. "If I wanted Don Alejandro dead, I wouldn't have tried to save him."
Before I could process his words, he nodded to one of his men, who stepped forward with a syringe. I resumed my struggles, twisting violently.
"No...don't you dare..."
The prick of the needle was quick, the effect almost immediate. My limbs grew heavy, and my vision began to blur. Still, I fought, clawing at the stranger's face until he caught my wrist in a painful grip.
"Enough," he growled. "Thousands of euros in damage already, and you want to add my face to the casualties?"
As he loaded me into the waiting vehicle, I caught a final glimpse of the cathedral where I was supposed to begin a new life.
Instead, my father's blood stained its steps, and men I didn't recognize were carrying his body out through a side door.
"Rafael," I mumbled, the sedative slurring my speech. "Where...?"
"Your coward fiancé ran at the first gunshot," the stranger replied, sliding into the seat beside me. "Left you to die with your father."
Betrayal cut through even the drug's confusion. Rafael had abandoned me when I needed him most.
As darkness closed in, I clutched at the sapphire pendant still hanging around my neck. My father's last gift. His protection. Whatever secrets it held would have to wait.
The last thing I saw before unconsciousness claimed me was those golden eyes watching me with an intensity that felt like being burned alive—curious, calculating, and oddly familiar.
"Sleep, princess," he murmured, brushing a strand of blood-damp hair from my face.
"The nightmare's just beginning."