SERGIO'S POV

She was looking stunningly attractive in my mother's dress that my father gifted her on their first date. The size was just perfect and it flaunted her slim hourglass figure. There was an unusual thing about her and I can tell that distinctively. The previous night I almost killed her, assuming that she was associated with Michael Harrison yet she is by all accounts a wrong person at the wrong time like in case she is only a casualty to the circumstances. She doesn't recall the incident of the last night however how could this be conceivable. Is she screwing with my mind yet she is too frail to even think about screwing with someone like me? She isn't pretending, and I know that without a doubt. She was flabbergasted when she awoke in the morning, having been completely nonchalant about everything. She was mentioning some medication, but exactly what sort of medication was she alluding to? If this little girl is simply playing a game with me, I swear to God I'll fucking kill her before ravishing every niche and corner of her beautiful body. I need to figure her out, and I will since she is on my radar now.

I looked at her, and she was gazing at the floor. She fumbled with her fingers and scratched her ear before returning her attention to me. Even though the dress reached far beyond her knees, she continued to pull it down, attempting to conceal her beautiful white velvety legs. I want to kiss her all over and have her ensnared in my shackles where she is mine—all mine—and I can play with her in whatever way I want. I've never wanted to ravish someone so desperately, but there was something about her—maybe her innocence and kindness, the way she smiles and lowers her gaze whenever I glance at her. She might be my ragged doll, and I could ravish her in whatever way I desired.

"Come on, let's have breakfast. We're already running late," I said. She responded with a nod and turned around to gather her belongings. I exited the room and dialed Marcello, demanding that he gather information about Emma and her family. I possibly took two or three steps when I heard a thudding sound behind me. I pivoted and saw Emma unconscious on the floor. Her head was bleeding profusely. My entire world turned somewhat fuzzier at the sight before my eyes, leaving me completely dumbfounded.

"No, no, no. This can't happen. No, no, no." I grumbled as I rushed toward Emma, holding her in my arms and attempting to rouse her up, but she didn't respond. Her body eventually started to lose warmth, which caught me off guard. I ripped my suit jacket off my shoulders and placed it behind her head, pressing it against her wound and attempting to stop her bleeding. I grabbed her up in my arms and hurried downstairs, past the hallway and out of the mansion, toward the garage.

"Marco!" I yelled, and he stood in front of my eyes in a split second. He ogled Emma, and his expressions went blank. Without wasting any more time, he dashed over to the Audi and sat in the driver's seat, pulling the vehicle out of the garage. I opened the door and got inside the vehicle with Emma in my arms.

"I want you to drive to the hospital," I murmured, and Marco nodded before merging into traffic.

I caressed her face in an attempt to wake her up, but it was fruitless. She appears lifeless—completely and utterly lifeless—as if life has been sucked out of her, leaving her limp and pallid.

"Wake up, Mio Angelo." I moved her body close to mine and buried her head deep into my chest. The impact of her head striking the wall started to ricochet through my mind. It was me. I caused her a severe concussion last night, which is why she didn't remember it was me who wanted to kill her. It's all my fault. I pinched my eyes shut and recalled the first time I saw her in the chocolate factory. Her smile. Her innocence. Her nervousness. Everything was flashing in my head, and as soon as I entered her life, she was all on the edge of dying—lying lifeless in my arms.

The car came to a halt just before the hospital and I hastened inside, grabbing her in my arms. I noticed Dr. Campbell walking in my direction and as soon as he noticed me, he rushed toward me.

"What happened, Mr. Fiorentino?"

"From what I understand, she sustained a concussion, albeit a significant one," I said.

I placed her on the stretcher as the doctor examined her heartbeat "Oh, my God! There is no heartbeat. We need to hurry." All that appears to get foggy as I watched Dr. Campbell and a couple of the medical caretakers surging to a great extent and Emma was hauled into the emergency room. I sat on the couch, leaned forward, elbows resting on my knees. This is exactly what I desired: to torture her to death, and for what reason do I care if she lives or dies? I almost killed her last night, and now I'm here wondering she'll stay alive. My hands were varnished with Emma's blood. It was true. It truly is. I have her blood on my hands. Seconds stretched into minutes, and minutes stretched into hours, but there was no update on Emma.

"Mr. Fiorentino?" I was immersed deep in her thoughts when Dr. Campbell approached me.

"Her heartbeat has returned to normal. We've run several tests on her, including a CT scan, and we're still not sure if she's had a concussion or something else. For the time being, we've shifted her in ICU." He said. The doctor was about to walk away when he came to a halt and turned toward me. "Did she get hit on the head?"

"Yes, last night," I replied, as the sound of her head slamming into the wall reverberated through my consciousness once more.

"How was her cognitive response?"

"Awful. She awoke this morning with no recollection of the previous night." I said. "Can I see her?"

"You certainly can, but you must act quickly."

I nodded and proceeded to the ICU. I walked in cautiously and noticed her slumbering peacefully. I sat next to her on the stool, delicately caressing her cheeks with my fingertips, which I then traced to her neck. My fingerprints were imprinted on her neck, which I had attempted to strangle the night before. Her lips were pale and parched. I firmly grasped her hand and kissed the back of her palm. "I know you can hear me, Mio Angelo. I'm Sergio Fiorentino, and you can't get away from me. Did you hear me? You can't fucking get away from me like this." No response was received, but I know she could hear me.

I was completely engrossed in her thoughts when my phone rang. I took my phone out of my pocket and held it against my ear.

"Hello, Boss. I located the address you asked me to find. Emma Brown lives in Brooklyn with her grandparents, Jessica Brown and David Brown. I've texted you the address."

"All right, don't hurt them; I'll be there soon."

"Don't worry. They are safe, but they are looking for their granddaughter, who went missing last night. They have even filed a missing person's report."

"You already know what you're going to do, don't you? Just keep the cops away from it."

"Yes, I know." I hung up the phone and glanced at Emma. I kissed her on the forehead and exited the ICU before adjusting her oxygen mask. As I strolled out of the room, I observed Andrew standing with a few of his bodyguards. I've never been happier than I was right now, seeing him. I don't trust anyone right now, not even the medics or bodyguards, but Andrew is my brother, and I have entire faith in him.

"Are you all right, Sergio?" He queried as he ran up to me and hugged me fiercely. "I thought something had happened to you."

"Yes, I'm totally fine, but why are you here? You were supposed to be in Italy." I inquired, breaking the hug.

"I didn't fly to Italy with Dad because Mom told me not to leave you alone, no matter what. I wanted to tell you that I was in New York, but then I became engaged in the drug trade and forgot. I went to Mom's mansion, where you were staying, and noticed blood in the corridor leading to your room, which terrified me. I called Marco to inquire about you, and that son of a bitch told me you were in the hospital and then hung up the phone."

"I'm delighted you're here; now I can get back to work."

"Wait, if you're fine, what are you doing in this depressing hospital?" Andrew inquired, perplexed.

"It's Emma. I'll tell you everything later, but for now, I want you to keep a close watch on her."

"Emma? The factory girl?"

"Yes. I just want you to look after Emma and be there for her all the time; I don't trust anyone, not even the doctors."

"Don't worry, I'm here, and I swear I'm not going to let anything awful happen to her." He gave me his word of assurance. I hugged Andrew as I exited the hospital and drove immediately to Emma's place in Brooklyn. As I entered the house, I saw her grandmother conversing with Marcello, while her grandfather sat in the chair, reading a newspaper, utterly unaware of what was going on.

"Mr. and Mrs. Brown, good morning," I greeted them, but they didn't seem pleased to see me, but they will be once they learn who I am.

"Where is Emma? What have you done to her? Is she okay?" Jessica yelled as she dashed toward me. "She hasn't even taken her medication." She shrieked and slammed her eyes shut, a rush of tears flowing past her eyes.

"Emma is in the hospital, and her condition is critical," I replied, my attention fixated on the floor, not wanting to meet her gaze. Jessica was about to pass out when I told her about Emma's condition, but thankfully Marcello held her and attempted to comfort her. She sat on the couch, trying to gather herself, but it was fruitless. My attention was drawn to David, who was still rocking back and forth in his rocking chair. Worry was written all over his face, but he didn't seem to notice. His gaze remained fixed on the newspaper he was holding. Something tells me that his relationship with Emma is strained.

"What medications are you referring to?" I inquired as I sat across from her.

"Emma has been suffering from parasomnia since the death of her parents, and her condition is deteriorating with each passing day. She used to suffer those terrifying nightmares, hallucinations, and even sleep paralysis, which terrifies me to death. I don't want to lose her. She is Richard's sole possession." My entire body shook at what she said. I had a desire to hurt her. I wanted to kill the girl who was already facing the demons from her past that used to haunt her every night, but no one can see that pain because her contagious smile conceals all her sufferings. I could see the suffering behind her contagious smile, but I disregarded it because I thought she was acting innocent. I've never felt so guilty for my actions in my life, but here I am, splattered in Emma's blood, with the guilt eating me alive. I need to make reparations with her. I need to protect her.

"Are you with Emma?" She questioned, snapping me out of my trance.

"No way! No, I mean I only met her the day before yesterday." I was taken aback by the question since my approach is just to screw around and not get entangled in anything serious. "Why would you ask that?" I inquired, curious as to what she perceived in me that led her to suppose I might be dating her granddaughter.

"There's no reason. It's only that I see forever in your eyes." She murmured, passing me a faint smile. Her statements caught me off guard, and a part of me wanted to burst out laughing since she didn't know who I was. I never fuck the same woman twice, and I don't have emotions or feelings to care for anyone. I am completely oblivious to the word 'love' since it makes people weak, and weakness, such as love, is not acceptable in my life. I care about Emma right now not because she meant anything to me, but because she was in a miserable condition and I was the cause of it, and I didn't want to carry a bucket full of remorse on my head, therefore I feel obligated to care about her. That's it.

"I genuinely care about Emma and would appreciate it if you could help me. I'd just like you to tell me what happened fourteen years ago." I queried, my attention fixated on Jessica.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything you are aware of."

"My son was the leader of the American Mafia—the most powerful of all Mafia leaders even more powerful than your father," she said. "Michael Harrison, a friend of his, was his second in command. Everything was fine until Olivia entered my son's life. He fell in love with her, and she changed him for the better, and they got married. Richard decided to leave the mafia world when Olivia was pregnant with Emma. He appointed Michael as the new boss of the American Mafia, but things did not go smoothly. Michael had suffered a significant loss in the drug shipment, so he asked Richard to be the second in command until the business returns to normalcy. Richard consented and served as the American mafia's second in command for seven years. He wanted to live a peaceful life with his family and decided to renounce the world of the mafia when Olivia was pregnant with a son because he knew his son, who was the actual heir to the mafia would have to take over as a leader after Michael Harrison. Your father and mother both know Richard and Michael very well. Italians and Americans used to have good relations but after the death of my son, everything went out of line."

Tears began to flow from her eyes like a raging river as she continued. "Richard was in Italy to negotiate some business with your father. Your father intended to open several clubs and casinos in Italy for which he demanded a significant amount of cocaine and marijuana, but the leader of the Russian Mafia disagreed with Richard and insisted Michael not engage in such a contract with your father. My son, on the other hand, complied with your father's request and signed the contract nonetheless. Your father and Richard signed a contract in exchange for the deal, which I am not aware of. He called Michael and ordered him to deliver $2 million worth of cocaine and marijuana."

She let out a deep sigh to relax for a minute.

"Emma called Richard on Sunday morning and asked him to hurry up and take them all to a picnic spot in California. They were on their way to the airport when someone attacked them. Emma was dozing in the backseat when Richard opened fire on the men who were attacking them. The men shot bullets into the tires, and the car crashed into a tree. Olivia died on the spot. Richard took Emma in his arms and began running while she was unconscious. He was running as fast as he could when a man from behind fired four to five bullets into his back, one of which he missed that hit Emma in her right arm."

Her eyes welled up with tears as she stated, "I know Emma's hallucinations are the faded memories from her past. The injured man she mentions is her father, who was carrying Emma (a young girl) and was running from the attacker (The man with the gun), who shot him with the bullets. Emma is supposed to be the next leader to the authority of the American mafia after Michael Harrison." She burst into tears and began sobbing uncontrollably.

"Why didn't you tell her the truth? Why did you feed her lies?" I inquired but almost yelled because rage was coursing through every cell of my body. I despise liars, and her grandparents have been feeding her lies since she was a child. Truth can't be buried for long; one day it will find you and smack you across the face.

"Because we didn't want to lose her." She said, and I let out an annoyed groan.

"I knew you were Lorenzo's son the moment you walked into the house. You look a lot like your father." She said. "But, obviously, more enticing and intimidating."

Emma's hallucinations and nightmares were faded recollections of the past, but if she was taking the medications, why wasn't her health improving? If she has faded memories, it suggests that they can be regained through therapy.

"You've already met Richard, haven't you?" Jessica's question jolted me out of my reverie.

I nodded in response to her question.

I was fourteen years old when I met Richard. I was training for my shooting lessons with Andrew when I observed him conversing with my father. He had a symbol tattooed at the nape of his neck that fascinated me. I asked him about the symbol, and he said that it symbolizes power, authority, and leadership. He asked if I wanted the same tattoo, and I quickly agreed, and I got the same tattoo as him that very same day.

"Don't worry. Emma is my responsibility." I told Jessica, who was sobbing uncontrollably. "Marcello will drive you to the hospital so you can see Emma, and I want you to pack Emma's belongings because she'll be staying with me for a month."