I Saved the Mafia Boss—Now I'm His Obsession. novel Chapter 11

Adriano

⫘☠︎︎⫘

In under ten minutes, there was a sharp knock at the door. Madeleine’s eyes lit up.

“I’ll get it—it must be your family!” she said, already halfway across the room, way too eager for her own good.

She had no idea what she was about to open that door to. One look at Vince and she’d know exactly what I was. He wore the dark like a second skin—never bothered to hide it.

I was up before she touched the handle, cutting her off in three strides. My hand closed over the doorknob, jaw tight.

“I got it,” I muttered, voice low.

Her brows pinched, confusion flickering across her face. “It’s okay, I can—”

“I said I got it,” I said with enough force to freeze her where she stood.

I cracked the door open, just enough for my body to block the view. Vince’s cold stare locked on mine instantly—dark suit, darker eyes, hands tucked into his trench coat pockets like he had all the time in the world to ruin someone’s life. His knuckles were split, fresh. His jaw ticked once.

He didn’t smile, Vince rarely fucking smiled.

And behind him—fuck me—there were at least eight of our guys, spread down the hall like a SWAT unit. Tactical blacks, boots heavy on the shitty apartment hallway floor, weapons barely concealed under coats, one of them chewing gum like they weren’t standing in the middle of suburban civilian territory.

Madeleine’s place wasn’t built for this kind of heat. Her neighbors would probably shit bricks and call the cops the second they caught wind of this many men standing around like they owned the block.

Vince tipped his chin, “You good?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” I muttered, cutting him a warning look, slicing my gaze sideways at the soldiers behind him, “I told you to come alone.”

I stepped outside, pulling the door mostly shut behind me so Madeleine couldn’t see past my shoulder.

“You said you were hit. I brought what I needed,” he said, coldly.

“And now I’m saying we don’t need all of them breathing down this hallway drawing attention. Stand them down. I just need you inside, not an army.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the guys. One sharp nod from him and like fucking clockwork, they peeled off, dispersing into stairwells and corners.

I exhaled through my nose, jaw flexing. Vince always overcorrected, that’s what made him dangerous, he never did half-measures.

His eyes cut back to mine, “You sure you’re clear?”

“I’m breathing, aren’t I?” I gritted, “Get in here. But keep it tight, Vince. You scare her, I swear to God...” I didn’t even finish the threat. He got the message.

His lips quirked into a faint smile, “Since when do you care about scaring civilians, Adriano?”

I ignored that. I pushed the door open and jerked my chin for him to follow.

Madeleine was still by the couch, twisting the hem of her sweater in her fingers, bright-eyed, like she was about to meet someone’s mom instead of a man who’d slit throats before breakfast.

Vince stepped in slowly, eyes flicking over everything, the crooked rug, the jungle of plants, the demon cat who narrowed its one eye at him in instant disapproval.

His gaze finally landed on Madeleine, scanning her, calculating, in that deadpan way that made grown men piss themselves.

I closed the door behind him and locked it with a soft click.

“Madeleine,” I said, “This is my brother, Vincenzo.”

Her smile flickered a little, not gone but dimmed, like maybe her gut told her what her eyes hadn’t caught yet.

Vince gave a curt nod politely, “Ma’am.”

Madeleine, God help her, just smiled wider.

Like Vincenzo was just another neighbor popping in to borrow sugar.

She crossed the room, curls bouncing, that goddamn oversized sweater slipping off one shoulder like she didn’t even notice. The same shoulder I knew Vince’s eyes had already clocked for pressure points and leverage, if she turned out to be a threat.

“Hi, Vincenzo,” she said, sticking her hand out like she didn’t feel the hostility rolling off him, “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Maddie. Adriano’s been resting here, you don’t need to worry, I’ve been taking good care of him.”

I felt my teeth grind together. Jesus Christ, woman.

Vince blinked once. He didn’t take her hand right away. His gaze dragged over her outstretched fingers like he was dissecting her under a glass slide, measuring her bones, her pulse, her usefulness.

He didn’t like her touching him. He didn’t like her standing that close to him. And he definitely didn’t like softness that didn't belong to his wife, Claire.

But then, because Vince could turn on charm like flicking a knife open, he slid his hand into hers, engulfing it completely.

“Appreciate you looking after my brother,” he said smoothly, “Not many would take in a stranger like that.”

She gave a breathy laugh, “Oh, it was nothing. Really. He needed help. You don’t leave people bleeding on the street, right?” She tilted her head, curls slipping to one side, completely at ease with the fucking shark standing in front of her.

Vince’s lips twitched again, “That’s rare these days,” he murmured, “Kindness without contract.”

I narrowed my eyes at him.

Back the fuck off, Vince.

But Maddie just beamed, “Well, I don’t know about all that. I just figure... you give what you can, right? The world’s mean enough already.”

Vince released her hand and slipped his fingers back into his pockets. His gaze flicked sideways to me, like 'you’re gonna have to explain this one to me later.'

I cleared my throat, cutting in, “Madeleine, I think your cookies might be burning as well,” I asked tightly.

She blinked at me, cheeks pinking like she’d forgotten, and then spun on her heel with a cheerful, “Oh! Right! Be right back.”

As soon as she disappeared into the kitchen, I turned on Vince fast, stepping into his space. Our shoulders nearly touched.

“Watch your fucking tone with her,” I snapped under my breath. “She’s clean. She doesn’t know shit. Don’t give her a reason to ask questions. All she did was help me.”

Vince’s mouth twitched again, now that was definitely a smile.

“She doesn’t know you? Hm,” his tone was sarcastic, he was doubting her, “You sure about that, brother?”

My jaw clenched, “She doesn’t. And she’s not gonna.”

Before Vince could push me further, her voice floated back in.

“I brought snacks!” Madeleine announced, padding barefoot back into the room with a ceramic tray balanced in her hands, her alpaca socks were now gone.

Three mugs of chamomile tea and a little plate stacked with what looked like cookies, pale, crumbly things dotted with nuts and seeds.

Her eyes flicked between me and Vince, her smile as soft as ever, “I didn’t know if you were hungry, Vincenzo, but it’s chamomile. And vegan cookies, oat flour, almond butter, flaxseed, no dairy, no eggs. I make them all the time for my friends,” she said.

Vince stared at the tray like she’d handed him a live grenade. His brows ticked up a fraction, I didn’t miss how his jaw flexed.

I turned to Madeleine. She stood there still, lips pressed tight, eyes a little glassy but her spine straight. Fierce in her own quiet way. It knocked something loose in me.

I turned to her slowly, eyes catching on her mouth before dropping to her hand.

I took her wrist, it was small in my grasp, and pressed the card into her palm. My other hand curled her fingers tight around it, holding her there.

Maybe it was my injuries or something else, but a jolt that shot up my arm and settled low in my gut.

Even stepping back, the charge stayed under my skin.

I needed to get the fuck out of there.

Her throat bobbed, lashes flickering as she glanced down at the card and then back up at me. “I don’t—”

“I know you don’t think you need it,” I cut in, “But the world isn't all cinnamon and chamomile, Sunshine. Sometimes it bites. When it does, you call me.”

I stepped back, hand dropping away slow.

“Promise me.”

She stared at me for one long heartbeat, then nodded once.

“I promise.”

I felt Vince’s stare burning a hole in the back of my skull. Time to fucking move.

I shot her one last look, something unspoken pulling hard behind my ribs, then turned on my heel and stalked to the door where Vince already waited, patient as death.

The second the door shut behind us and we hit the stairwell, Vince let out a dark chuckle under his breath.

“Sweet little thing, Adriano...” he muttered.

I didn’t answer. My fists just curled tight at my sides.

“Fuck off,” I told him.

Vince chuckled, all teeth and knowing, but he dropped it, stepping ahead of me toward the car waiting at the curb.

I stopped, just for a second, long enough to glance back at her window above.

I cracked my neck, rolled my shoulders, pushed the itch down. The one that made me want to turn around, kick that door back open, and warn her she had no clue what kind of wolves she was feeding cookies to.

But she didn’t need that.

So I shoved my hands in my pockets and headed towards my car.

And for the first time in a long fucking time, I knew something was coming.

Something bad.

And it had her name all over it.