Chapter 62: The Plan

Marco’s POV

If there was ever a time I had doubts about whether this man felt even a fraction of what I felt for him, those doubts had now been washed away. Apart from being reckless enough to infiltrate one of the largest Mafia organisations in Italy, if not all of Europe, where he would have his head served to him if anyone discovered who he was, he was also mad enough to try to kill the Prime Minister’s son. Like, the Prime Minister of Italy. What other proof did I need to understand the extent of what he felt for me?

Any sane person would have considered him a walking red flag, but I, being the darkest of them all, found it amusing. Risky, yes, but the thought of him being this reckless because of me only fuelled this intense need to hold him and merge myself with him.

But it was not time for that yet.

So, I lowered myself beside the bathtub and placed my index finger against my lips, silently begging him to keep quiet.

"Don’t move," I whispered as I began taking off my suit jacket and dropped it somewhere on the ground.

Silently, I headed for the door, taking off my shirt along the way. I opened it halfway and glanced outside, where the man who was about to die if he made even a single mistake was standing.

"What is it?" I asked, keeping my voice low.

Luca walked closer to the door, and I made an effort to shut it a little more, leaving him no chance of seeing the bundle of trouble currently sitting in my bathtub.

"Uncle asked me to get you. He wants us to have dinner together," he chimed, flashing that smile of his that did nothing but irritate me. It was the kind of devious smile that tried to feign sweetness.

"I’ll be there when I’m done," I said before quickly shutting the door.

For a while, there was no movement on the other side. Then, about a minute later, the outer door shut, indicating that Luca had left.

Now, it was time to handle this other nutcase.

Fabio had one leg folded inside the tub, his hand holding the gun resting on his knee. Even that simple sight was enough to erase months of trying to get over him. Well, it was not as if I could actually erase anything about him. I had only tried, and I had failed miserably.

"You are reckless," I uttered as I approached him and stopped beside the tub.

He looked up, leaning his back against the tub. "I’m still alive."

I raised an eyebrow and, after a little contemplation, replied, "Because of me. Do you think it’s that simple to walk in here and pretend to be a servant for two weeks without anyone noticing?"

Once I finished speaking, I saw Fabio’s eyes narrow before he dropped the gun onto the tiles.

"You knew?" he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side to get a better look at me. "All this while, you knew I was here?"

Well, since the first day.

"Yes, and I saved your ass. If my father had seen you even once, you would be dead," I uttered, now beginning to unbuckle my belt.

"Why didn’t you say anything?"

I shrugged. "I thought you would eventually give up and leave. Who knew you had even colluded with Orso? I seriously thought he was dead."

I caught sight of Fabio’s jaw tightening, indicating that he was very much displeased. Good. He should be, considering how he had frightened the shit out of me every single day of his stay here. I had barely slept for more than an hour at a time, constantly afraid that I would wake up to find his decapitated body somewhere on the premises.

"You don’t want me here, do you?"

If I had a choice, I would rather have him far away, back in his own home. I would rather we remained enemies, just as we were supposed to be, and he stayed safe. It was the only way I could be certain he would survive whatever was coming.

"If I asked you to leave tonight, would you?" I asked. "I can arrange it."

I definitely would, even knowing that it might be the last time we ever met.

Fabio did not answer immediately. He cast his gaze down at the water, lightly slashing at it with his hand.

I added, "Whatever happened between us in Milan and Sicily, we can treat it as a fleeting moment of youthful recklessness. Nothing more. No more problems."

Still, he remained silent.

"Fabio," I called, but I received no reply. "I don’t think you have properly considered our situation. You are a Corvino, and I am a Moretti. You know what that means. Our families do not see eye to eye. The peace between us is hanging by a thread, and we could go to war at any moment. Will you betray your family for me?"

It was that last sentence that finally got a reaction out of him.

He immediately glanced up, his eyes carrying a certainty that told me everything I needed to know. Betrayal was a line he would never cross. To every other Mafia organisation, except my father’s, family came above everything else.

"Exactly," I continued. "You have your empire, and I have mine."

"But you are being forced to stay here," he finally spoke up.

"At first, it is true that I never planned to return to Naples, but now I have no choice. Even if I want to leave, I cannot. My face has been exposed, and the moment that happened, I knew bounties would already be placed on my head. People I don’t even know want me dead. So, I cannot leave."

Fabio’s expression was now empty as he continued staring at me.

"You are planning to officially inherit this? And remain a puppet to Edoardo?"

At the mention of that man’s name, I clenched my fist.

"You are half right," I said, lowering my voice. "I intend to fully inherit his empire. And by fully, I mean I want to strip him of every connection, every bit of power he holds, and every ally he has. I’ll take it all. And then..."

I glanced down at Fabio, as if to make sure he understood the kind of man I was, not the carefree Marco he had once known.

"I will kill him."