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“You jumped directly to the Devil…”
“The king and the queen hmmm~”
Two voices cut through the air just as Nedvar finished recounting his love story—a love story that was very much one-sided, as he had pointed out. Nedvar groaned in annoyance, instantly recognizing the owners of those voices without needing to turn around.
"Dan, Sien, weren’t you both supposed to arrive tomorrow?" Sera asked, her gaze shifting toward the twins who had just strolled into the room.
Santa Dante Wyatt, or Dan for short, and Sienna Delilah Wyatt, known as Sien or Enna, were the youngest non-identical twin, siblings of Aldo and Nedvar, though they were fraternal twins. Wherever chaos lurked, it wasn’t hard to guess the twins were behind it.
Dan, a renowned hacker, and Sien, an infamous torturer and elite assassin in the mafia, each had their unique talents, but they both shared a knack for stirring trouble.
"We couldn't miss the legendary one-sided love saga of the ruthless king," Dan replied with a sly grin, earning a death glare from Nedvar.
“Ma, tell him to stop before I break his bones,” Nedvar growled, his patience already wearing thin.
“Oh, calm down, Ned. Do you want your wife to see that ugly angry face and slap you?” Sien teased, clearly enjoying the opportunity to rile him up further.
“Get lost!” Nedvar snapped, but the twins just laughed in response.
Dan casually grabbed a slice of black forest cake and started eating like he hadn’t seen food in days.
Aldo, watching the scene unfold, cut in, “What happened with the mission?” Everyone’s attention turned to Dan, whose answer was muffled by his cake-filled mouth.
“Dtaht... Vtha good... Ahghgg!” Dan’s incoherent words were cut off by a yelp as Arne, their mother, smacked the back of his head.
“Manners, Santa Dante Wyatt! How many times do I have to tell you not to talk with your mouth full?” she scolded him, her tone sharp.
“I’m not a kid, Mama,” Dan mumbled in protest, only to receive a punch to the arm.
“You don’t speak to your mother like that, little boy,” Arne snapped, her voice enough to make all her children sit a little straighter. Despite being grown adults, none of them dared to cross their mother when she was angry.
Dan, of course, seemed to bear the brunt of Arne’s wrath most often, much to the quiet relief of his siblings, Nedvar, Aldo, and Sien, who were happy to stay out of trouble for once.
“How’s my princess?” Edouard, their father, asked, his face softening as he turned to Sien, the only girl among his children.
Sien’s demeanor shifted instantly. She rushed over to him, wrapping her arms around her father as though she were still a little girl.
“I’m fine, Papa! I missed you so much,” she said, her wide, innocent eyes and pout making her older brothers roll their eyes at her theatrical display.
Edouard hugged her tightly, and Sien, ever playful, stuck her tongue out at her brothers from the safety of her father’s embrace. The boys responded with scoffs and eye-rolls, though it was clear from their softened expressions how much they adored their little sister.
After a series of kisses from her father, Sien giggled. “It’s not even been a day, and here you are, saying you missed them already,” Dan teased, sarcasm dripping from his words.
“You wouldn’t understand, because you’re dumb,” Sien shot back, before bounding over to her mother, hugging her tightly. Arne welcomed her into a warm, motherly embrace, kissing her cheek.
The family, as it turned out, had a penchant for hugs.
Sien made the rounds, hugging Aldo, who pecked her on the forehead, and finally wrapping her arms around Nedvar, holding him extra tight since they hadn’t seen each other for two months.
“How are you, Süße?” (Sweety) Nedvar asked, softly caressing her cheek.
“I’m great, Ned! How about you?” Sien replied eagerly. But before Nedvar could answer, she interrupted herself, adding with a mischievous grin, “Oh wait, I know! You’re probably off daydreaming about your great love, hmm?”
Sien’s mock-thoughtful expression, complete with her hand on her chin and finger tapping her cheek, made Nedvar want to slam his head against the nearest table. As he glanced around, he saw everyone else, even their mother, trying to suppress their laughter.
Oh, Lucifer, he thought, why am I always the one trapped in my family’s evil little clutches?
The room buzzed with laughter and banter, and despite his frustration, Nedvar couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth that only came from being with his family—chaotic as they were.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Rocco pressed the intercom button right after Hermione agreed to the partnership, and his voice was authoritative when he spoke. “Lia, bring the contract file to my office immediately.”
Hermione noticed the shift in his tone. While he had spoken to her in a calm, gentle manner, his voice now carried a commanding edge. It was clear he was used to being the boss.
Lia knocked shortly after and entered the office, holding a black file. She moved swiftly around the desk, standing next to Rocco as she handed him the document. Rocco opened the file and quickly reviewed it while Hermione observed the interaction between the two. Meanwhile, Sam, standing nearby, kept his unwavering gaze locked on Rocco.
Sam didn’t trust Rocco one bit. His suspicion stemmed from Rocco's past as an assassin—someone who thrived in a world of violence and bloodshed. That background made Sam wary.
Rocco nodded slightly after checking the file, and Lia seemed to visibly relax, grateful that there were no mistakes. Hermione noticed this subtle exchange, concluding that Rocco was incredibly strict when it came to work.
“I’ve signed it. Please review it yourself,” Rocco said, handing the file to Hermione, who immediately began reading through it.
“If you have any adjustments to make, now is the time,” Rocco added in his usual cold yet composed voice. Hermione nodded, continuing to read without a word.
The entire time, Sam had been staring at Rocco with a look of intensity, and Rocco finally acknowledged it, turning to meet Sam’s gaze. The air between them was thick with tension—a silent competition between two men used to being in control, both seeming to size each other up.
Their stare-off was abruptly interrupted by Hermione sneezing. What made the situation more awkward was that all three—Rocco, Lia, and Sam—offered her a handkerchief at the same time. Realizing this, Rocco quickly retracted his hand with a sheepish smile, while Sam shoved his handkerchief back into his pocket, frustrated. Lia stood awkwardly close, her hand still outstretched.
“Thank you, Ms. Lia,” Hermione politely declined.
Lia fidgeted nervously, clearly uncomfortable, especially with the intense atmosphere created by the two men. She stood still, hesitant to leave the room, unsure of what to do next.
Hermione finished signing the contract and handed the file back to Rocco, who closed it and passed it to Lia. Lia accepted the file but remained rooted in place, still feeling the awkward tension.
“It’ll be interesting working with you, Queen,” Rocco said with a sly grin as he extended his hand to Hermione.
Hermione returned the gesture with a polite smile. “Likewise, Ben.”
She tilted her head slightly, her curiosity piqued by something. Before she could ask, Rocco anticipated her question. “If there’s something on your mind, Queen, feel free to ask.”
Hermione hesitated for a second, then spoke. “Why is it that both the CEO and the chairman prefer to stay out of the media spotlight?”
Rocco smirked and shrugged. “Simple. I don’t want my face plastered everywhere when I walk down the street. And being an assassin in the underworld makes it dangerous for me if my enemies know my whereabouts. As for the chairman, well, you’ll have to ask him yourself.”
Hermione processed his explanation. “So, you and Emiliano—your father must be the chairman, right?”
Rocco shook his head, causing Hermione to stop her line of questioning.
Realizing she might have overstepped, Hermione was about to apologize, but Rocco spoke again. “He was the chairman. My father passed away when I was just ten. Since I was still a minor, one of my father’s closest friends managed the business until I turned 21. That man became like a second father to me, teaching me everything and guiding me. His son is the current chairman, as I still have a lot to learn about running the fashion empire.”
“I see,” Hermione responded softly, her expression shifting to one of understanding. “I didn’t mean to bring up anything sensitive. I’m sorry.”
Rocco’s gaze softened. “No need to apologize. It’s fine.”
Hermione offered him a kind smile before standing up and grabbing her phone from the desk.
“And congratulations on the new branch opening here in Auckland,” he said.
“Thanks, Ben. Please feel free to attend the opening party tomorrow evening if your schedule allows.”
Rocco nodded. “I’ll try to make it if work doesn’t get in the way.”
With that, Hermione bid him farewell. “I’ll leave now.”
Rocco watched as she exited the room, followed closely by Sam.
Once they were gone, Rocco slumped back into his chair, sighing loudly. “She’s tougher than Capo,” he muttered to himself before pulling out his phone and dialing. Holding the phone to his ear, he waited for the call to connect.
“Capo,” he said.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Nedvar sat on the couch, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. His hand raked through his already disheveled hair, only making the mess worse.
“Who would've thought you'd fall in love in the most ridiculous way?” Aldo teased with a smirk, earning a loud huff from Nedvar.
“Jealous, are we? Must be tough having an arranged marriage,” Nedvar shot back, making Dan and their father, Edouard, snicker.
“Touché,” Sera, Aldo’s wife, giggled from beside him, though Aldo glared at her.
“At least she knew I existed. In your case, your dame doesn’t even know you’re alive, let alone about your wild obsession with her,” Aldo countered, refusing to back down.
“Oh, so this is a game now? Well, let’s play,” Nedvar said, ready to fire back, but Mama Arne cut off the banter with a firm hum.
She walked over and wrapped Nedvar in a motherly embrace. Even sitting, his head rested near her shoulder. He leaned into her, his chin on her shoulder, as she softly patted his back.
Pulling away with tears in her eyes, Ma Arne sniffled. Nedvar gently wiped her cheeks, shaking his head with a stern but loving expression. “No tears, Ma.”
“Ethan will have a mother’s love soon,” she choked out, and the room filled with a mixture of joy and quiet emotion.
Everyone was happy for Nedvar, but they were even more relieved for Ethan. Over the past two years, Ethan had developed separation anxiety whenever Nedvar was away for more than two weeks. The five-year-old had grown attached to his father more than anyone else in the family, and the little boy became quieter after learning from his kindergarten friends that he didn’t have a mother. It hurt him deeply, and the family was eager to see that void filled.
“I can’t wait for the wedding. I’m so happy for you, Ned,” Sera said brightly, trying to lighten the mood.
“Thanks, Sera… You’re the only one who gets me,” Nedvar said, throwing a playful glance at Aldo, who rolled his eyes in response.
Sera sighed, used to the endless mocking between the brothers. Their jabs at each other didn’t always make sense, but it had become a regular part of family life.
Mama Arne’s beaming smile hadn’t faded, and Nedvar smiled back at her. She pulled him close again, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, sighing as the tension drained from his body. He knew his family supported him, but he still felt the weight of everything ahead.
It wasn’t every day you confessed your love for a woman who didn’t even know you yet.
After a few moments, Mama Arne pulled away and kissed his forehead. Nedvar gently wiped her tears once more, shaking his head with a soft, “No tears, Ma.”
The others in the room looked on with warm smiles. Sera leaned into Aldo, who wrapped his arm around her and kissed her cheek, causing her ears to turn red.
The peace was interrupted by a gagging sound from Dan, who lounged on the couch. “He’s just in love, not winning some epic battle.”
“At least he’s in love,” Mama Arne snapped at Dan, “Unlike you, who almost lost your virginity on your brother’s bed.” The room erupted in laughter, and Dan dropped his head in embarrassment. “Moooom,” he whined, but Mama Arne just gave him a sharp glare.
Suddenly, a phone rang, drawing everyone’s attention. It was Nedvar’s phone, lighting up on the table. He picked it up and saw “Rocco Calling” flash across the screen.
Nedvar walked out into the garden, distancing himself from the lively room.
“Capo,” he answered.
“The contract is signed,” Rocco's voice buzzed with excitement.
Nedvar smirked. “La partnership è attiva.” (The partnership is on.)
“What about the event?” Rocco asked again.
“Everything will go according to plan,” Nedvar replied, his voice confident.
“Ci vediamo tra due ore.” (I’ll see you in two hours.)
“Don’t be late, Rocco. I’m not in the mood to find you doing anything... inappropriate,” Nedvar warned.
“How the hell did you know I was planning to visit the club?” Rocco blurted, making Nedvar roll his eyes.
“Ti conosco troppo bene,” (I know you too well) Nedvar chuckled. “You can’t go a day without indulging yourself.”
Rocco chuckled too. “You got me, no.”
“I’ll talk to you later,” Nedvar said, sensing someone nearby. “See you soon.”
After hanging up, Nedvar turned around to see his father approaching.
“Do you think she’ll accept Ethan?” Edouard asked bluntly, his gaze serious.
Nedvar took a deep breath. “If she can’t accept him, then maybe we were never meant to be,” he admitted, each word cutting deeper than any knife. The very thought of not being with his dame left him breathless.
Edouard nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve always been here to guide you, to help you understand the risks and rewards of each step.”
Nedvar listened quietly as his father sat on a nearby bench, and he joined him.
“Hermione is an independent woman,” Edouard continued. “She’s the daughter of Warner, a business titan. People often think he has ties to the mafia, but he doesn’t. I met Hermione when she took over her family’s empire at just 20. She’s career-driven, and while I’m not judging, you’re not just finding a wife for yourself, Ned. She has to be a mother to Ethan, and being a mafia queen is a different life.”
“I understand, Dad,” Nedvar replied softly. “But there’s something in me that knows... I belong to her, for this lifetime.”
Edouard patted his son’s shoulder. “I believe you, son. But it won’t be easy. Every step you take will be a test, one that will either strengthen or weaken what you two have. It’s up to you.”
Nedvar nodded, appreciating the wisdom. “I promise I’ll never let you or Ma down.”
“I know that,” Edouard said with a smile. “Now let’s head inside before your mother breaks up our father-son moment.”
Edouard stood, then paused and turned back. “One more thing, son,” he added with a smirk. “Soon enough, you’ll have one more person to fear... just like your Ma.”
Nedvar shook his head in disbelief, but couldn’t help but smile. His phone buzzed again, this time with a message from the spy keeping tabs on Hermione.
He opened it to find five pictures of her, taken as she left Rocco’s company. She looked breathtaking in her sky-blue formal attire. Nedvar’s heart swelled as he stared at the images, his admiration for his dame clear in the warmth that spread across his face.
With each picture, his grin grew wider, dimples deepening with every passing second. There she was, his dame, commanding his heart with just a glance. His cheeks flushed pink beneath his stubble, though the emotion beneath was impossible to miss.
Everyone feared the Mafia King, but Hermione... Hermione was the one person who could stare him down without a hint of fear.
She was his, and he belonged to her.
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