I Saved the Mafia Boss—Now I'm His Obsession. novel Chapter 41

Told from Afar

𓎢𓎠𓎟𖦁‎𓎟𓎠𓎡

Alessia Capone adjusted the delicate sleeve of her pale blue silk gown. She sat poised at the long table beside her nephews, smiling politely at a passing donor before picking up her wine glass again.

Across the table, she noticed Vincenzo whispering something to his wife before Claire immediately got up and led Madeleine away from the table.

Her smile faltered, this wasn't some usual girls going to the bathroom together, Vincenzo wanted something. Her gaze flicked immediately to Vincenzo, seated just to her left. He’d only just looked up from his drink when she turned to him.

“Why did you send them away?” she asked softly, touching his sleeve.

Vincenzo didn’t look at her. He simply picked up his glass, took a sip of bourbon, and set it down.

Alessia’s brows lifted slightly, “Vin?”

Her fingers dropped from his arm when he didn't answer. She glanced down the table. Adriano had gone quiet, staring toward the ballroom entrance like he was waiting for something. Raphael was looking around as if he was looking for someone, even Dante wasn’t speaking anymore, his phone turned over beside his plate.

Something was wrong.

Then, as if on silent cue, Vincenzo stood and Adriano followed. Dante rose a second later, nodding once to Raphael, who remained seated beside Alessia. The three of them disappeared into the crowd.

Alessia watched them go, stunned.

“Vincenzo,” she called after him, not loud enough to make a scene, just enough for him to hear.

He didn’t look back.

She turned to Raphael, brows furrowing. “What is going on?”

Raphael offered only a neutral shrug, “Nothing you need to worry about.”

Alessia blinked, “Oh, don’t give me that line.”

He offered a faint smile, “I mean it.”

“I’m not some helpless old aunt who can’t be trusted with grown-up matters. I carried you in my arms, Raphael. Don’t you boys start shutting me out now.”

“I’m not—we're not,” he said gently.

She stared at him. He was being careful. Which meant this was serious. And they didn’t want her involved. Her.

She took a slow breath, then reached for her clutch. “Fine.”

“Aless—”

“I said fine,” she stood, smoothing the fabric of her gown. Her heels made no sound on the floor, but her frustration was loud, “If none of you want to tell me what’s going on, I’ll just go join Claire and Maddie in the powder room.”

Raphael didn’t stop her, “Yeah, better...”

She walked away from the table with the same grace she always had, shoulders back, chin up.

She followed the same path Claire and Madeleine had disappeared from, and entered the quiet hallway.

She muttered under her breath, “Act like I’m not even sitting at the goddamn table.”

The door was just ahead when two suited men stepped into her path, tall, unsmiling, matching black coats, each with hands clasped in front of them like secret service.

Her brows lifted.

“Excuse me,” she said.

Neither moved.

Her eyes narrowed. She wasn’t afraid, Alessia Capone didn’t do afraid but her instincts lit up like fire. These men didn’t work for Vincenzo. She would’ve remembered faces like these.

She turned, sharply.

And came face to face with a man.

He was leaning against the wall like he’d been posing for a portrait all night. A navy suit. Hair dark with just enough salt at the temples to make the silver look intentional, and that same crooked smile still played on his mouth.

Rino Lombardi.

She was stunned.

God.

It had been more than two decades, but he hadn’t aged the way most men did. He’d only gotten... more himself.

“Alessia,” he said, voice like aged scotch poured into a glass you weren’t sure you wanted to drink from. “Still walking like you own the world.”

Alessia's gaze raked him up and down, “Still dressing like you sell used yachts?”

Rino laughed, amused, stepping off the wall with the grace of a predator stretching after a nap, “I thought you'd at least smile seeing me after all those years. What happened to the girl who once told me I was the ugliest thing she'd ever seen in a tux?”

“She grew up,” Alessia replied.

Rino chuckled like she'd offered him a toast, “You know, you were always prettier when you were mean.”

She narrowed her eyes, “And you were less pathetic when you were young.”

“You wound me. Is that how you greet an old friend?”

“You’re not a friend.”

“Mm,” he tilted his head, “Old, though?”

That earned him a glare. Her back straightened, chin lifting again. “What do you want, Rino?”

“Want?” he echoed, eyes lighting up, “Nothing, it’s good to hear your voice again.”

She turned slightly toward the powder room, testing her luck. The men didn’t move, neither did Rino.

“Blocking a woman’s path to the bathroom now? You always were a gentleman,” she said coolly.

“You’re a hard woman to pin down with your little pups always circling you,” he smiled, “Had to get creative.”

She tilted her nose up, pride sparking in her chest at the mention of her boys, “They’re not pups anymore, Rino, they’re wolves now,” she let her gaze sweep over him, unimpressed.

“You could’ve sent a note like a normal psychopath.”

He chuckled again, “And miss this moment? Alessia Capone, cornered in a hallway, fire in her eyes. You don’t know what that does to a man.”

She folded her arms, nails digging lightly into silk. “You’re disgusting.”

“I’m nostalgic,” he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice, “Do you remember that summer in Liguria at my family's chateau? You threw a shoe at my head for trying to kiss you.”

“You didn't kiss me, you bit my shoulder.”

“I was sixteen. I didn’t know foreplay from fencing but I learned.”

She rolled her eyes, “Mm. I’m still not convinced you did.”

“I’ve missed this,” he said with a grin, “You. The venom. The perfume. You haven’t changed at all.”

“And you’ve changed into everything I hate about men.”

That smile slipped for the briefest second only to be replaced by something darker.

“You know,” he said, stepping even closer, “that mouth of yours is why I let you walk away all those years ago... But it’s also why I came back.”

She didn’t blink, “I walked away because I chose to, not because you let me but I see the years haven’t taught you tact,” she shot back, “Or boundaries.”

He laughed, “Where’s the fun in boundaries? You were never one for rules either, if I recall.”

“That was a long time ago,” she said, “I’m not a child anymore, Rino.”

“No,” he agreed, stepping closer. “You’re a woman now. An exquisite one. But still something about you makes me think of that girl who used to throw punches harder than most boys.”

Alessia breathed out a weary sigh, “We're not children anymore, Rino. I’m not someone you can toy with.”

“Toy? No,” his voice softened, “Admire, maybe. Spar with, definitely. You always were my favorite opponent.”

Rino stood there, brushing imaginary lint from his lapel, pretending the heat in his jaw didn’t sting.

Vincenzo didn’t look away as he holstered his weapon.

“Get the fuck out of my sight,” he said, “Before I decide tonight’s the night I bury you.”

Rino adjusted his jacket, that crooked smile never fading.

“Ah, ah, easy now,” he said, “You and I still have unfinished business, Don Capone.”

He took a slow step back, eyes flicking briefly to Adriano, Dante, Raphael then back to Vincenzo.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” he added, grin widening. “Because very soon, I’ll be joining the Capone family for dinner... at your table.”

A pause.

“And ask Alessia to save me a seat.”

Then he turned, walking off like he owned the place, flanked by his men.

And not one of the Capone brothers looked away until he was gone.

𓎢𓎠𓎟𖦁‎𓎟𓎠𓎡

Inside the powder room, the noise of the gala was just a muffled sound behind the thick door. Claire leaned against the marble counter, arms around Madeleine, rubbing her forearms up and down in slow strokes.

“I’d kiss you to calm your nerves,” Claire said gently, trying to make her smile, “but these lips are reserved exclusively for Vincenzo Capone—contractually, emotionally, and very, very sexually.”

Madeleine let out a shaky laugh that barely made it out of her throat. Her body trembled in Claire’s arms like a leaf in a storm.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, hugging herself, nails digging into her own skin. “I just—I don’t do well with locked doors. It’s not you, it’s not this room, it’s just... my head goes to places.”

Claire’s teasing melted instantly. Her brows furrowed, her voice lowering, “Hey,” she said, cupping Madeleine’s cheek. “What do you mean? You don’t have to say anything, but if you want to... I promise, zero judgment.”

Madeleine swallowed hard, eyes wide and glassy. She sat down on the edge of the counter, hugging her knees. Claire slid up beside her, legs dangling, waiting.

Then Madeleine exhaled, “When I was little... my mom used to hide me. Not like a game, she’d hide me. In closets. Wardrobes. Behind furniture. Sometimes for hours.”

Claire didn’t interrupt her, she just shifted slightly so her shoulder touched Madeleine’s.

“She’d whisper, ‘Don’t move. Don’t breathe too loud.’ I used to think it was a weird kind of hide-and-seek. But then I started hearing things. Breaking glass. Screaming. Things falling. And my dad...”

Her voice broke, Claire reached over and gently took her hand.

“When she let me out, he’d be on the floor. Bleeding. Bruised. One time I thought he was dead. I was six.”

Claire sucked in a sharp breath, but she said nothing, just squeezed her hand.

“My mom would hold him in her lap and cry while she cleaned his wounds. And I’d feed him soup with this tiny plastic spoon because his jaw would be too swollen to chew.”

Tears rolled down Madeleine’s cheeks now.

Claire gently wiped a tear off her cheek with her thumb. “Maddie…”

Claire swallowed hard and glanced away. It was too much hearing this, knowing what she knew.

Not knowing what to say, Claire just pulled her into a hug, arms tight, resting her chin on Madeleine’s crown like a protective older sister.

They sat there for a long while, their reflections mirrored back to them from the glowing vanity mirror. Two women from very different worlds, bound together by the same blood.

Claire didn’t ask more questions.

She just stayed and listened.

Because tonight, that was exactly what Madeleine needed.