Chapter 4 - The Boss Breaks His Own Rule
The kitchen felt instantly colder, as though the raging autumn storm outside had blown through the solid stone walls.
Richi did not shout. He did not scream. His voice was a calm, arctic murmur that carried a terrifying promise of annihilation. Behind him, Marco and three armed bodyguards poured into the room, their weapons raised and trained directly on Salvatore’s chest.
""Richi, wait—listen to me!"" Salvatore stammered, dropping his weapon onto the pepper-covered floor and raising his blood-stained hands in frantic surrender. ""She lured me in here! She tried to poison the old man! I caught her with the vial!""
Richi didn't even look at Salvatore. His gaze remained locked entirely on Isa.
She was standing against the stove, her chest heaving, clutching the dented copper pan like a battle shield. Flour covered her apron, and her knuckles were white from terror, but her eyes blazed with raw courage. In her other hand, she held the tiny amber vial.
""Is that true, Miss Hayes?"" Richi asked softly, his gun never wavering from Salvatore’s forehead.
Isa swallowed hard, stepping carefully over the shattered glass. She held out the vial, placing it gently on the edge of the island. ""He wanted me to put it in your father's chamomile tea. He said your father had lived long enough. He promised me five hundred thousand dollars and a fake passport.""
Richi’s amber eyes flickered toward his lieutenant. ""Digitalis?""
Salvatore broke into a cold sweat. ""She's lying! She's Julian Hayes's spawn! She hates our family! Why would you believe a broken waitress over your own lieutenant?""
Richi lowered his gun by an inch, took three quiet strides forward, and suddenly drove his heavy leather boot straight into Salvatore’s kneecap with sickening force.
CRACK.
A blood-curdling scream tore from Salvatore's throat as he collapsed onto the tiles, clutching his shattered leg.
""Because she hit you in the face with a pan to protect my father,"" Richi whispered coldly, staring down at the writhing man. ""And because my surveillance cameras in this kitchen record audio with absolute clarity, Salvatore. Marco, drag this garbage down to the cellars beneath the docks. Call Dr. Rossi. I want him awake and conscious for every single hour of his questioning.""
""Right away, Boss,"" Marco said without an ounce of pity, signaling the guards to drag the screaming traitor out the service entrance.
Within seconds, the kitchen fell utterly silent once more, save for the patter of heavy rain against the glass.
Richi stood in the middle of the mess, surrounded by broken glass and spilled spices. He holstered his weapon, ran a hand through his dark hair, and finally turned toward Isa. The predatory ice in his eyes had melted, replaced by an intensity so fierce it made her knees tremble.
""You're shaking,"" Richi said, taking slow steps toward her until he was standing mere inches away.
""I just hit a mafia lieutenant with cookware,"" Isa replied, letting out a breathless, half-hysterical laugh. ""I think shaking is a reasonable biological response.""
The copper pan slipped from her exhausted fingers, clattering onto the floor. Richi reached out and caught her wrists before she could stumble. His large, calloused hands were warm, steady, and unexpectedly gentle as he pulled her slightly closer.
""Why didn't you take his offer, Isa?"" Richi asked, his voice rough and intimate, using her first name for the very first time. ""He offered you freedom. He offered you enough money to rebuild your bakery and leave my debt behind forever. Why protect the man whose son holds you prisoner?""
Isa looked up into his dark, tortured eyes. Up close, she could see the tiny flecks of gold in his irises and the exhaustion etched into the lines of his handsome face.
""Because your father is an innocent, kind old man who misses his wife,"" she whispered honestly, her voice thick with emotion. ""And because... despite the cruel monster you pretend to be... I know you wouldn't let him die either.""
Richi let out a ragged breath. ""You don't know anything about me.""
""I know you eat dinner with him every night just so he isn't alone,"" she countered softly.
Richi’s jaw tightened. He lost whatever battle was raging behind his impassive exterior. He slid his hands up from her wrists, cupping her cheeks in his large palms, his thumbs gently sweeping across her cheekbones.
""You are dangerous, Miss Hayes,"" he murmured, his face dipping down toward hers until his warm breath grazed her lips. ""More dangerous than every rival family in this state.""
""Why?"" she breathed, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
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""Because you make me forget that I’m supposed to be heartless.""
Before she could speak, Richi covered her mouth with his own in a deep, bruising, desperate kiss that shattered every rule he had ever lived by.
