"How are you feeling now?" I asked, lowering my gaze to Ricky, who sat propped up in a lightweight wheelchair.

"Good," he replied, a faint, genuine smile gracing his features.

Ginevra had been tending to him with absolute devotion, staying glued to his side day in and day out. She even wheeled him around the estate courtyard, and surprisingly, not a single guard dared to reprimand her or call her out for trespassing on restricted grounds. After all, she was the Don's sister; the compound was practically her birthright.

Looking at the two of them, I was almost certain that love had already taken root. Ricky, despite the brutal ordeal...