Kidnapped By The Mafia Don I Ruined

CHAPTER 1WILLOW’S POV

A week before graduation.

The café on Via del Corso smelled of espresso, damp wool, and rain that had followed people inside and clung stubbornly to their coats. Zora sat across from me, lazily stirring her cappuccino as though the foam had personally offended her, her braids pulled into a high bun with gold hoops catching the soft afternoon light, and for a moment I found myself thinking how easily she fit into this city, how naturally she belonged here in a way I never quite did.

“So,” she said after a pause, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied my face with that quiet intensity she always used when she thought I was about to do something reckless, “another job tonight?”

“€220,000,” I replied, keeping my voice low even though no one around us was paying attention. “Private estate. Tight security. I only get one window in and out, and the payment’s a clean cash drop after.”

Her spoon stopped mid-stir, the faint clink echoing louder than it should have.

“You said that last time,” she murmured, leaning back slowly, her gaze never leaving mine. “And the time before that. These jobs aren’t small anymore, Willow. They’re getting bigger, and you don’t seem to notice how much risk comes with that.”

I forced a small shrug, trying to make it seem like nothing, like it didn’t matter. “You remember the €5,000 job two weeks ago?”

Zora tilted her head slightly, her expression shifting as she searched her memory before letting out a soft, almost dismissive breath. “The one you kept talking about, yeah. Something about a glimpse of a faded tattoo you couldn’t quite place,” she said, her tone bordering on bored, though there was something faintly distracted about it. “Just… be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” I said, a little too quickly, a little too firmly. “Cash only, no names, no trails left behind. And besides, we graduate in seven days, so after that I’m done with all of it, at least for a while. I’ll get a real job, something stable, something normal, and then Scott can finally come to Italy and we can start over properly.”

I hesitated briefly before adding, “I even rented an apartment already. Enzo and I are supposed to move in together after graduation.”

Zora didn’t respond immediately, and the silence that followed stretched just long enough to feel wrong, like something had shifted beneath the surface without my permission.

“You haven’t said anything about your plans yet,” I continued, forcing a small smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “What are you going to do after graduation?”

She looked at me then, but there was something off about it, something distant, as though her thoughts were somewhere else entirely.

“Just… don’t touch anything Fontana ,” she said quietly, almost like the words had slipped out before she could stop them.

I frowned, caught off guard. “What?”

“You should stop this hacking thing,” she went on, ignoring my reaction, her voice tighter now. “And stop sending money to Scott. He’s fifteen, Willow. You sent £2,000 last time, that’s not normal.”

My jaw tightened slightly, but I said nothing.

“You know the stories,” she added, her fingers tightening faintly around her cup. “The Fontana's don’t forgive.”

A short, hollow laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “What are they going to do, kill my parents again?”

The moment the words left my mouth, I knew they landed wrong.

The Fontana's weren’t just powerful; they were untouchable, the kind of family people whispered about but never challenged, the kind that could ruin lives and never face consequences, and mine had been one of those lives long before I was old enough to understand what that even meant.

Arms trade billionaire. Security conglomerate on the surface, whispers of black-market weapons underneath. They were basically legalized Mafia.

I hated them, had always hated them, but hatred didn’t undo anything.

Zora’s gaze flicked briefly toward the window before returning to me. “Not funny, Willow .”

We hadn’t spoken about them in years, which made it worse somehow, like she had been holding onto that warning for longer than she should have.

“It’s a little funny,” I muttered, standing up and slinging my backpack over my shoulder, the strap biting faintly into my skin in a way that felt grounding. “I need to head back, but I might stop by Mouse’s place first.”

Zora stood as well and pulled me into a tight hug, the familiar scent of vanilla and something warm wrapping around me in a way that should have felt comforting but didn’t quite settle right.

“Be careful with whatever comes next,” she murmured softly. “Text me before you get back to the dorm, okay? I need to see my supervisor and grab groceries before heading back.”

“I will,” I replied, holding onto her for just a second longer than usual before pulling away.

I didn’t notice, not then, how quickly she let go.

---

I hadn’t even reached the bus stop when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

The burner.

Mouse.

Got busy. Meet me this evening instead.

I stared at the message for a moment, something about it sitting oddly in my chest, though I couldn’t quite explain why, before slipping the phone back into my pocket and deciding to just head back to the dorm instead.

---

The hallway smelled like damp concrete and faint garlic, the kind that clung stubbornly to the air no matter how many windows were opened.

When I reached the door, my key slid into the lock far too easily.

The door was already slightly open.

A thin line of unease crept down my spine.

Zora never left it open, not even by accident, not after all the times she had lectured me about security, about carelessness, about how one mistake was all it took.

And she had said she wouldn’t be back yet.

So who was inside?

'How on earth would I robbed on my last week in college?' I thought I moved closer.

I pushed it wider, slow, boots silent. Living room light spilled out, warm yellow. A low, rhythmic sound drifted from the bedroom—ours. Moans, skin on skin slaps, the creak of the mattress I’d bought secondhand.

My legs felt glued. Even if I tried to move, it just wasn't working. It felt like my brain forgot how to do things.

My stomach lurched, cold and heavy. I moved forward anyway, one step, then another. The bedroom door hung ajar. I didn’t knock. I just looked.Zora’s hair fanned across my pillow. Enzo above her, shirt gone, back flexing with each thrust. Her legs hooked around his waist, nails dragging red lines down his skin.

His head was tipped back, mouth open on a groan that hit me like a slap.Time stretched. Louder slap of bodies. The wet sounds. The way her fingers curled into his shoulders like she had done it a hundred times.

Then Zora’s eyes fluttered open. Met mine.

She froze. Gasped—sharp, choked—and shoved at his chest. “Enzo—stop. Willow—”

He turned, still inside her, face flushed and slack. Recognition crawled across his features slow, then his lips curved into that lazy half-smile I used to think was charming. “Babe...What are you doing here?" Enzo asked like it was a problem.

Zora avoided my gaze "Willow...you...You’re back early.”

My lips parted. No air came. My throat seized, tight as a vise. Heat rushed to my face, then my eyes—burning, blurring. I blinked hard, once, twice. The scene didn’t vanish. Them. In my bed. Tangled like they belonged.

Zora scrambled upright, yanking the sheet to cover herself. Her voice cracked, high and desperate. “Willow, wait—it’s not what it looks like. I mean, it is, but—please, let me explain. It just… happened. We didn’t plan—”

The words settled heavily in my chest.

Came back early.

Like I wasn’t supposed to be here.

Like I had interrupted something planned.

Something that had been expected to go uninterrupted.

My hands began to tremble at my sides.

“What… haven’t I done?” I managed, my voice breaking despite how hard I tried to hold it steady. “I paid for this place, I supported you, I—”

“You were convenient,” he cut in smoothly, his tone almost thoughtful rather than defensive. “You made things easy. Money, space, freedom. But you were never really here, Willow. Always running somewhere, always chasing something or someone else.”

The words hit harder than they should have.

“Zora is,” he added, glancing back at her briefly before looking at me again, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “She pays attention.”

Silence filled the room, thick and suffocating.

Zora shook her head quickly, tears forming in her eyes. “Enzo, stop. Willow, I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen like this—”

Like this.

Not at all.

Just like this.

“Stop,” I said, the word tearing out of me before she could continue.

My chest felt tight, my vision blurring as I turned away, grabbing my backpack with unsteady hands, my fingers fumbling with the zipper as I tried to focus on something, anything, that would keep me from falling apart completely.

“Really?” Enzo’s voice followed, low and unimpressed. “You’re leaving over this?”

I turned back, anger flashing through the haze of everything else, sharp and dangerous for just a second.

I wanted to hurt him.

I wanted to make him feel even a fraction of what I was feeling.

But my gaze shifted.

To her.

Zora.

My best friend.

The one person I thought would never betray me.

My lips trembled despite my effort to steady them. “We’re done,” I said quietly. “And don’t ever come back to my place.”

I didn’t wait for a response.

I couldn’t.

The door slammed behind me as I stepped out into the hallway, the sound echoing louder than it should have as my legs finally gave out beneath me, sending me sliding down against the cold tile floor.

My hands shook uncontrollably, my breath coming in uneven, painful bursts as tears spilled over before I could stop them, hot and relentless as I pressed my fist against my mouth to keep the sound in.

An hour ago, she had hugged me. An hour ago, he had a future with me.

And now— There was nothing. Just the weight of it.

And the job. €220,000.

One last job.

​

As if heartbreak wasn't enough. As if having my best friend f*ck my boyfriend wasn't enough. I graduated college depressed, waiting on job interviews and the possible last hacking job I should have done.

I was tired of getting Scott's messages. It wouldn't have been fair for me to hear about his juvenile state after he had been a good boy for so long.

Honestly, life wasn't what I had planned, and I wished I could have turned the time back to two years ago.

The message arrived at 2:47 a.m., the screen lighting up the dark corner of my rented room like a gunshot. The same apartment I could have had with Enzo.

Unknown number:One job. One night. $220,000 wired on completion.Target: Fontana estate security grid.Disable cameras, alarms, perimeter locks.Door opens at 03:15.Coordinates attached. No questions.Refuse and we find someone who won’t.

My fingers hovered over the delete button. I had done small jobs before—cracking low-security payrolls, rerouting cry