The Don's Favorite lover Vanished (by Melissa Z) novel Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Chiara’s POV

The dawn of a new day brought with it a seismic shift in the underbelly of North America.

The once-mighty Russo family empire was crumbling, its foundations shaking violently as if the very earth had opened up to swallow it whole.

Capos scurried about like ants disturbed from their nest, their faces etched with confusion and fear, while whispers of rebellion crackled in the shadows like a slow-burning fuse ready to ignite.

I observed the chaos unfold with an unsettling calm, my focus unwavering as I immersed myself in my restoration work.

That afternoon, I found myself in the studio, surrounded by the scent of aged wood and the soft glow of natural light filtering through the tall windows. I was engrossed in the delicate task of restoring a grand 15th-century fresco, a masterpiece that had seen better days.

Perched on a scaffold three meters high, I meticulously cleaned the intricate details of an angel’s wing with a tiny brush, my hands steady despite the tumult swirling outside.

But then, a sudden, jarring sound broke my concentration—a dull snap, like metal succumbing to an unseen force.

Moments later, the sharp crack of a rope severing echoed through the studio, sending a chill down my spine.

“Miss!” Lucia’s frantic voice pierced the air from below, filled with alarm.

Before I could even process her warning, the scaffold began to sway dangerously, tipping toward the expansive floor-to-ceiling window behind me.

Time slowed as I braced myself for the inevitable fall, the ground rushing up to meet me. I could only watch in horror as I plummeted from ten feet above, the massive pane of glass looming closer with each passing heartbeat.

Yet, instead of the anticipated crash and the searing pain that should have followed, something miraculous happened.

In a flash of black, a figure emerged from the shadows, launching himself at me with a fierce determination. He twisted mid-air, his body becoming a shield against the impending impact.

CRASH!

We barreled through the window together, shattering the glass in a spectacular explosion of shards that rained down around us.

I landed on the terrace outside, miraculously unscathed, but the man who had thrown himself into harm’s way for me was not so fortunate. His back was a canvas of crimson, shredded by the countless sharp fragments that had embedded themselves into his flesh, blood seeping through the fabric of his black coat.

As I looked up, my eyes met Vincenzo’s—a face contorted in pain yet illuminated by a profound sense of relief.

“You… what are you doing here?” My voice trembled with disbelief, still reeling from the shock of the fall and his sudden appearance.

“I never left,” he gasped, his voice barely a whisper, hoarse and strained. “My men have been watching you since I arrived in Florence. They spotted someone tampering with the ropes.”

“Boss!” Marco burst onto the scene, flanked by his men. His eyes widened in horror as he took in Vincenzo’s condition. “Get a doctor!”

Vincenzo, however, seemed oblivious to the agony radiating from his wounds. He held me close, his hands roaming over me repeatedly, checking for any signs of injury.

“You’re okay… you’re okay…” he murmured, his voice soft and almost childlike, as if he had discovered a treasure he feared he had lost forever.

I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the blood cascading from his back, the raw fear etched into his features stirring a tempest of conflicting emotions within me.

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