Page 2 of Forbidden

But this isn’t the man from my childhood. This version of him is a facade of his former self I’m not familiar with.

Across the street, Adriano Vieri stands near a black luxury vehicle, deep in conversation with a man I don’t recognize.

He looks the same but not quite.

I hold my cup tighter.

He’s always had that presence, the one that makes people pay attention. Makes them afraid. The kind that drives peopleto reckless acts, altering the lives of three individuals in a single night. I speak from experience, yet I find myself unable to look away. Part of me foolishly hopes he'll notice me, or worse, say hello.

My throat tightens inexplicably. It shouldn't matter anymore; it's been three years. So why, then, does the crush I thought long buried return the moment I lay eyes on him, as if it had never faded?

I should look away. Instead, I continue to stare as my pulse hammers.

“Is that—?” My voice falters, coming out thinner than I want. I don’t want Gianna to think he still affects me.

Gianna tracks my stare, and her breath hisses out. “Yeah.”

“Who’s that with him?” I nod at the guy beside him with a scarred face and black hair yanked into a tight knot, leaning in like they’re plotting a hit.

“Ralph. His latest shadow.” She shifts. “Psycho with a leash and only listens to Adriano.”

I swallow hard, watching them pause by another black SUV, all glossy menace. Their heads tilt close, their words lost in the hum of the city. Ralph’s hand twitches toward his jacket, and Adriano’s stance, still broad, screams control. Too much money flows through him for it to be clean. He has always been rich. It’s been obvious from those cars, the beach houses, and the way people scatter when he walks in. Sophia used to laugh it off and call him “the boss of everything,” but we never asked. Because somehow we all knew.

“Stop staring,” Gianna mutters, slumping back in her chair. “It’s a one-way mirror. He can’t see you anyway.”

But I can see him.

I drag my eyes off him. “Is he doing okay?”

Her nails tap the mug’s edge with a restless clink. She doesn’t answer fast. And gives me a look that says, What do you think? But she answers. “He’s not over it.”

Something inside me folds.

“He did try faking it for a while,” she continues, her spoon swirling her coffee slowly. “Paraded women around from blondes to brunettes, whoever. Didn’t stick. So he plunged himself into work. Acquiring companies going under here and there. He’s not the guy we knew.”

I nod, remembering the cool but kind, gruff laughs over dinners. No one can really be the same after that.

“Ruthless doesn’t even cover it.” Gianna’s voice dips, her eyes flicking up. “I heard if you cross him wrongly in his businesses, you’re meat. Last I heard, he strung a guy up last month for like three days. Made his men beat him to a pulp until he was bleeding slowly and begging.”

A chill winds its way up my spine, but there’s heat too, coiling low and unwelcome—yet not entirely. I despise it, though not enough. Adriano Vieri has never pretended to be a man you could cross and walk away unscathed.

Gianna’s eyes search mine. “You still blame yourself, don’t you?”

I don’t answer.

“Penelope,” she sighs, her voice softer now. “It wasn’t your fault.”

I shake my head, staring at the table. “She called me that night. I ignored it.”

She reaches across and squeezes my wrist. “You can’t keep carrying this.”

I let out a shaky breath. “I know it’s not healthy.” Hence why I even went to Italy in the first place after the incident. So why don’t I feel better? It’s been three damn years. But trust grief tohave its way and creep back in just when you think you’ve finally let go of it.

Gianna doesn’t push. Just watches me with that quiet understanding only she ever had.

I swallow hard, then look back at him. “You still see each other, right?”

“Yeah. While you were gone. He made sure Mom was taken care of. Her rent at first. Then her medical bills when she got admitted. He checks on me sometimes. Sent me money once when I was broke and Gerald and I weren’t speaking.” She pauses. “We still hold conversations when we can but since he moved, I hardly see him. He is clearly... different now. The accident messed him up.”

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