Rejected By Him, Crowned By The Don

Serena POV:

A month passed in near silence. Each morning, I sent Fabiano a sterile report of Gianna's schedule, a duty performed with the detached precision of a machine. For the first week, he replied with a single, cold word: 'Received.' Then, even that acknowledgment ceased. The line between us went dead.

He did not ask for any more reports, nor did he send any messages. The absence of his name on my screen was a constant, deafening hum.

I sat at my small desk in the corner of the quarters, my focus narrowed to the columns of numbers in the casino ledgers.

The door swung open and Gianna entered the room with the force of a gale.

She tossed a velvet box onto her bed, where it landed with a heavy thud.

"Look at this," she said to the other two female associates in the room.

They rushed over as Gianna flicked open the box.

A thick diamond necklace caught the harsh overhead light.

The stones were enormous, cut with a cold fire that spoke of the blood-soaked southern ports they'd been smuggled through.

"Fabiano sent it this morning," Gianna said, accompanying the statement with an annoyed sigh.

"It is gorgeous," one of the girls gasped.

Gianna rolled her eyes. "It is just jewelry. We have been courting for a month. He takes me to the most expensive restaurants and buys out entire luxury stores. But he has not even tried to hold my hand."

I kept my eyes fixed on my ledger, my pen hovering uselessly over a column of numbers.

"Maybe he is just respectful," the other girl said. "He is a Capo, notoriously cold. He has never pursued a woman before you. You should take the initiative."

Gianna crossed her arms. "A Falcone does not beg for a man's attention."

I listened to them talk, the wood of my pen groaning under the pressure of my grip.

It had taken Fabiano exactly two weeks to confess his devotion to me over the encrypted line.

He had once sworn he would set fire to the docks just to see the reflection in my eyes.

Now, he was buying diamonds for a woman he would not even touch.

I knew why he was cautious. The mistaken identity had wounded his pride. He was making sure he did not make another mistake.

I looked at the blank check hidden inside the cover of my ledger.

The alliance would be sealed soon. Gianna would get her Capo, and Fabiano would get his territory.

And I would cash the check, pay the loan sharks, and wipe his frequency from my device.

I closed the ledger and stood up.

"I am going to the underground ring to deliver the betting sheets," I said to the room.

Gianna did not even look at me.

Her laugh followed me out—bright, careless, the anthem of my nightmares. I told myself I felt nothing, but the check in my ledger grew heavier each day, and so did the silence where his voice used to be.