Chapter 4 - The Fortress and the FlowerThe Castiglione estate was quiet in the early hours of the morning.
Inside the vast, warm kitchen on the ground floor, Caris sat on a tall stool, wrapped in a thick wool blanket that one of the estate housekeepers had handed her. A cup of steaming chamomile tea sat untouched on the marble counter in front of her.
Across the room, Leo stood by the grand fireplace, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, a small first-aid kit open on the mantel.
He walked over to her, pulling up a chair to sit directly in front of her. Without asking, he reached into the kit, pulling out an antiseptic wipe and a small strip of gauze.
“Hold still,” he murmured.
Caris tensed as his hand approached her face, but his touch was surprisingly gentle—so light it felt almost impossible for a man who had just crushed a loan shark’s throat with his boot. He carefully dabbed the antiseptic against her split lip.
Caris winced slightly, her hands tightening around the wool blanket.
“I’m sorry,” Leo said quietly.
“Why are you apologizing?” Caris asked, looking into his dark eyes. “You saved my life. Or at least saved me from a hospital bill I couldn't afford.”
“I’m apologizing because men like Frankie exist because men like me allow them to,” Leo replied, setting the wipe down and placing a small bandage over the cut. “I knew Moretti was squeezing this neighborhood. I should have cleared him out months ago.”
Caris looked around the vast, luxurious kitchen, taking in the mahogany cabinets, the polished brass fixtures, and the armed security guards visible through the rain-streaked windows outside.
“You’re a mob boss,” she said flatly. It wasn't an accusation; it was a simple statement of fact she had put together over the past two hours.
“I am,” Leo said, not denying it. “I run the Castiglione syndicate. Shipping, real estate, territory. I am everything you probably hate.”
Caris let out a short, tired breath that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. She looked down at her hands—still calloused, still worn from years of scrubbing floors and folding laundry.
“I don't hate you, Leo,” she said softly. “I hate the guys who hit women and threaten ten-year-old boys. You didn't do that. You stopped them.”
She looked back up at him, her hazel eyes fierce and clear. “My brother... Mateo. Where is he?”
“He’s upstairs in the East Wing guest room, fast asleep,” Leo assured her. “Franco brought him here thirty minutes ago under heavy guard. He’s safe, Caris. Nobody knows he’s here.”
A massive, heavy weight seemed to lift from Caris’s shoulders. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back angrily, refusing to cry in front of him.
“Why are you doing this for me?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly. “I’m just a maid from 5th Street. You don't know me.”
Leo reached out, his calloused thumb gently wiping away a single stray tear that had escaped down her cheek.
“Because when you were sitting on that wet tile floor at L’Aureole, holding that scrub brush like a sword, you looked at me like I was just a man,” Leo said, his voice dropping into a deep, raw whisper. “Not a boss. Not a killer. Just a guy in an expensive suit standing in your light. I haven't been seen like that in fifteen years, Caris.”
Caris stared at him, the silence between them growing thick, charged with an undeniable, electric energy that made her heart hammer against her ribs.
Before either of them could speak further, the heavy double doors of the kitchen swung open.
Franco stepped inside, his expression grim.
“Boss,” Franco said, his voice low. “We have a problem. Sal Moretti just called a meeting of the Five Families. He’s claiming you violated territorial treaties by interfering on 5th Street. They’re calling for a vote at the docks tonight.”
Leo stood up slowly, the gentle man disappearing in an instant, replaced once again by the cold, ruthless leader of the Castiglione empire.
May you like
He looked down at Caris one last time.
“Stay here,” Leo commanded gently. “You and Mateo are safe in this house. I’ll settle this tonight.”
