Dying To Escape The Obsessive Mafia Don

Aria POV

Serena reached for the red rose pinned to her chest, her fingers affecting a tremor as she made a show of unfastening it.

Cassius immediately released my arm and stepped between us, placing a large, prohibitive hand over Serena's.

"What a Don gives cannot be taken back," he declared, his voice pitched to carry the absolute authority of the underworld.

His dark gaze returned to me, and he reached out again, gesturing toward the safety of the stadium.

"Step away from the edge, Aria."

His tone was a brittle warning now.

"Do not make a scene in front of the Family's associates and the press."

I did not move.

I just nodded slowly, repeating his words in my head—what he gives cannot be taken back.

I looked at the baseball bat in Serena's hand—the very length of ash wood Cassius had used to survive his first street war.

"I do not want it anymore," I said.

Cassius narrowed his eyes.

"I do not want you, the rose, the bat, or the safehouse."

A memory surfaced, sharp as a shard of glass, of the terms The Commission had set down for me when I was eighteen.

If my brother or one of the targets chose me without hesitation, I could take the cure and return to the civilian world.

Cassius let out a harsh breath, folding his arms over his broad chest.

"You are using a breakup threat to force me to strip Serena of her protection."

He shook his head, looking so profoundly disappointed.

"It will not work."

I smiled at him, though it was a mere twitch of the lips that held no warmth.

"I promise I will not take anything back."

Cassius slowly uncrossed his arms, his confusion returning.

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

I looked at the massive stadium behind him.

"A place you can never enter."

I walked over to home plate and dropped the ninety-eight white roses onto the dirt.

I pulled my burner phone out of my pocket and placed it on top of the flowers to pin them down.

Cassius barked an order to his soldiers.

"Cut the live feed. Block the journalists from the field."

The heavily armed men immediately moved to form a solid wall around the perimeter.

Cassius stood still, watching me.

He assumed I was playing a byzantine mafia mind game, fully expecting that I would wait for him to coax me back.

I kicked off my high heels, leaving them like abandoned sentinels on the concrete steps leading down to the treacherous coastal cliffs.

I did not look back as I descended the jagged rocks.

The freezing ocean water soaked the hem of my dress as I stepped into the dark tidal cave that was known to flood completely at high tide.

Behind me, I heard Cassius's voice—strained now, stripped of its earlier command. "Aria, the tide turns in twenty minutes. This is not a negotiation tactic that ends well."

He still thought I was bargaining.

I kept walking. The water rose to my calves, then my knees, the cold stealing sensation from my limbs as the cave's darkness swallowed me whole.

I pressed deeper into the cave, feeling the walls narrow around me. The roar of the ocean became muffled, distant. Good. The more isolated I was, the less chance of interruption.

The system's countdown began—a soft, rhythmic pulse in the back of my skull, like a second heartbeat slowing toward stillness.

Somewhere above me, I heard the distant thrum of helicopter rotors.

Enzo.

I closed my eyes and pressed my back against the wet stone.

"Not this time," I whispered. "Please, not this time."