Chapter 4

• My breathing was heavy, and my heart pounded as I prepared for the fight with Dante. Although I tried to stay focused, the image of him in front of me, that defined abdomen and the waistband of his boxer briefs peeking out of his dress pants, was a huge distraction, to say the least. There was something about that moment, that confrontation, that made me question everything I thought I knew about him.
• We began to fight, and it immediately became clear that we were both skilled in Krav Maga. It was a dangerous dance, a duel of precise strikes. Our hands moved in punches, elbows, and knees, while our legs entangled in kicks and sweeps. Every move was calculated, every attack measured.
• “You're weak, Bambi,” Dante taunted between punches. “A Piromalli can never be a Mancuso.”
• My anger grew with each taunt, but I remained focused on my technique. When Dante made a mistake, I responded with precision, showing him that I wasn't as weak as he thought.
• “You don't stand a chance, Dante,” I said confidently. “Not even on your best days.”
• We continued to fight in a dangerous and intense dance. Our labored breaths echoed in the room, and our bodies were covered in sweat. It was a physical battle, but also a battle of wills.
• Dante, with his sarcastic smile, didn't miss the opportunity to mock me.
• “You fight like a little girl,” he jeered, dodging a punch. “It's pathetic.”
• My anger increased with each taunt. I responded with precise strikes, but he was agile, and our bodies moved in harmony despite the rivalry.
• “You don't stand a chance, Bambi,” he continued to taunt.
• I caught my breath and challenged him with a determined smile. “You'll regret saying that, Dante.”
• Our fight continued, and the tension in the air was palpable. Each move was a dangerous dance of attack and defense. I knew I needed to prove my worth, not just as a Piromalli, but as someone deserving of respect within the family.
• Then, in a swift move, I managed to trip Dante with a sweep, making him lose his balance and fall to the ground. I pinned him, standing over him with a triumphant smile on my face. My broad grin reflected the satisfaction of my momentary victory.
• “You were too easy,” I taunted, breathless and sweaty.
• Dante, however, wasn't willing to admit defeat. He pushed me aside and quickly got on top of me, his gaze still filled with contempt.
• I felt a mix of surprise and irritation with his words, and before I could react, Dante leaned in, his face inches from mine. A tension charged with electricity hung in the air, and I closed my eyes, expecting the kiss that seemed about to happen.
• But then, he whispered in my ear, his voice rough and laden with irony: “You'll always be a Bambi.”
• He pulled away, leaving me confused and frustrated. However, before I could process what had just happened, he returned to the fight.
• This time, I was determined to win. I tripped Dante again, making him fall forward. I pinned him, holding his leg and applying enough pressure to make him feel pain.
• “Give up, Dante,” I challenged, my voice firm.
• Dante, breathless and in pain, responded stubbornly, “You won't beat me, Catarina.”
• The tension was palpable, and I could feel anger boiling within me as I continued to exert pressure on his leg. “You have no choice, Dante. Admit you lost.”
• He clenched his teeth but wouldn't yield. “I won't admit anything.”
• He resisted, his face contorted with effort and stubbornness. He was about to give in when an authoritative voice echoed in the room, interrupting us.
• “What are you two doing?”
• It was Don Salvatore, his stern gaze fixed on us.
• ***
• Don Salvatore entered the training room with firm steps and the penetrating gaze of an experienced leader. His voice echoed in the tense silence, breaking it.
• “What the hell are you two doing here? Acting like savages?” He questioned firmly.
• I began to explain, but before I could finish, Don Salvatore raised his hand, silencing me with authority.
• “Taci!” He ordered in Italian, his voice full of authority.
• The other three brothers, Massimo, Luca, and Matteo, approached and stood beside Dante and me, forming a line in front of Don Salvatore. It was a gesture of respect and submission to the father's authority.
• Don Salvatore looked sternly at each of us, his gaze conveying displeasure with the situation.
• “It's unacceptable for a Mancuso,” Don Salvatore began, addressing Dante.
• “But, Father, she...” Dante tried to explain, but Don Salvatore interrupted him with a stern look.
• “You will speak when I allow it, Dante,” Don Salvatore said firmly.
• “She's not a true Mancuso...” Dante tried to argue, but Don Salvatore cut him off, delivering a slap to his face, and Dante stared at his father with a hardened look.
• “Now, get dressed properly. We have a business meeting to attend.” Salvatore ordered seriously.
• Dante had no choice but to obey and left the room, leaving us with the family leader. Then Salvatore looked at me and the other three brothers, Massimo, Luca, and Matteo, and said, “The three of you, prepare for the meeting with Ndrina Crea in San Luca.”
• They nodded in respect and left to follow their father's orders.
• “And you, Catarina...” He looked at me with a softer look.
• “Yes, Don Salvatore?” I replied with respect.
• “Federica!” Salvatore shouted, calling my lady-in-waiting. Federica appeared quickly, and Don Salvatore ordered. “Take Catarina to her room and help her freshen up because she has lunch scheduled with the other young ladies from the families associated with the 'Ndrangheta.”
• “As you wish, Don Salvatore,” Federica replied, holding my arm.
• “Understood, Don Salvatore,” I replied, following Federica, leaving the training room behind.
• As I made my way to my room to freshen up, I knew that the fight with Dante hadn't resolved anything between us. There was an unresolved tension, a strange chemistry that I couldn't ignore. And I had a feeling that things between us were far from over.