Amapola

Organizing a place for Carlota to work in the afternoon was a nightmare. She made a thousand and one demands until I couldn’t take it anymore and said that, since it was a temporary allocation, the basics would be enough.
I saw Amadeu smile, nodding in agreement. I was right, after all, why so many demands if she wouldn’t even be here at the company tomorrow? Some people think that because they have money, everyone has to bow to their whims, but I definitely wouldn’t bow to her.
Besides that, your lunch with Salvatore continued to haunt me. My mind kept wandering, trying to figure out what they did during their time out for that lunch.
I was at least disappointed with Salvatore. He could’ve refused, said he already had plans, or given some excuse, but no, he didn’t even think twice before accepting the blonde’s invitation.
Everything would’ve been much worse if his brothers hadn’t shown up and, along with Amadeu, kept me company. They were different people when they dropped the act of being the heads of one of the biggest mafias in the country, just like Salvatore. I liked getting to know that other side of them.
I answered a few company emails and then made a list of all the courses I could take online, so I could reduce my trips to the university and dedicate myself more to work.
I was thrilled with this new development and needed to share it with my father, so I called him. He cried with happiness, and I almost joined him. In the end, Salvatore was giving us much more than he was taking. The man who had turned my world upside down was giving me new reasons to keep moving forward.
He was becoming my safe harbor, something I never imagined I needed at that moment. I just had to be careful not to get too involved. The same hand he was extending to help me up could easily bring me down.
"Are you deaf, girl?" I see Carlota standing in front of my desk.
"No, miss. If you didn’t notice, I was on a call," I reply, losing my patience.
"Yes, I heard. And by the way, it was a personal call. Save your personal matters for outside of working hours."
I lose my patience. I stand up from my chair, walk around my desk, and stop right in front of her, staring her down so she can see that I’m not afraid of her.
"I don’t owe you an explanation. I’m sure Mr. Salvatore won’t care about my personal call. If you need something, say it. If not, I have more important things to do than waste my time explaining myself to someone who doesn’t matter."
"Insolent."
"Did I hear *competent*? Yes, ma’am." I smile at her sudden nervousness. "I’m extremely competent, which is why I’m beside the best."
"I need a phone line to use while I’m working," she says irritably.
"Someone will bring it to you shortly. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some tasks to take care of."
I leave her standing there as I head towards Amadeu, thinking he can help me sort out the phone issue she needs. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her leave, returning to the meeting room.
That’s it. She better not extend her claws in my direction, because I’ll definitely cut them off with pleasure.

I gather some emails I printed out to give to Salvatore so he can prioritize them, and I walk to his office. I know his brothers are still with him, but since I’ll be brief, I won’t interrupt whatever they’re discussing.
It’s strange that the door is slightly ajar, and just as I raise my hand to announce my presence, Fabrizio’s words make me freeze. I know it’s not ethical or right, but I can’t help but listen.
"What do you have with the girl?" I wonder if they’re talking about me, which makes me feel a little less guilty about eavesdropping.
"What? What the hell does that have to do with you?" Salvatore says, his irritation obvious even though I can’t see him.
"You know Carlota’s arrival was a move by Carbone to push you closer to her, right? You know the capos expect you to make a commitment to one of the famiglia daughters soon, don’t you? And as we discussed before, it was pretty clear that Carlota would be your choice. So, whatever you have with the girl, make sure not to break her too much. She’s already suffered enough and doesn’t deserve to endure more crap."
I bring my trembling hands to my mouth. Yes, they were talking about me, but also about the woman who had just been at a business lunch with him. She was going to be his fiancée—was the lunch to formalize their situation? How could Salvatore involve me in this knowing all of this?
"I’ve already told you to mind your own business. What the hell is wrong with everyone today, bothering me with this marriage talk?" He tries to shut the conversation down.
"Did Carlota talk to you about it?" Fabrizio asks, and I hold my breath, waiting to hear his response.
"Yes, Fabrizio, she did." He confirms, and my heart stops. I turn on my heels, not wanting to hear more.
"And what did you say to her?" Fabrizio asks, and I stop again, realizing I need to know his answer to prepare myself.
"It doesn’t matter what I said," Salvatore says, raising his voice. "I don’t owe anyone an explanation, not even you two. I’ll marry when and with whoever I want."
"Alright, boss, don’t worry. We won’t interfere," his brothers relent, sensing his frustration.
"As for Amapola, forget she exists. She’s my problem, and it’s none of your concern. Whatever I do with her is none of your business."
My God, does he plan to let me get involved only to discard me afterward?
"Yes, sir," they acknowledge his stance, and I return to my desk.
My hands are shaking so much that I sit down without knowing exactly what I should do. I’m literally in Salvatore’s hands. He won’t let me walk away, but his constant presence could destroy me.
Why can’t anything in my life be simple? Just when I think things are settling down, that my life is finally getting on track, something happens to pull the rug out from under me. I brood as I pretend to focus on my work.
"Wait, Miss Carbone." I stop the woman who’s heading straight for Salvatore’s office.
"What do you mean, wait, girl? I need to speak with him urgently," she snaps, but I stand firm, blocking her path.
"Wait a moment, and I’ll announce you." I maintain my posture, preventing her from passing. Amadeu quickly stands up from the couch where he had just returned, ready to step in if a confrontation arises between us.
I realize I no longer see her as just a spoiled mafia daughter seeking the boss’s attention. As our eyes clash, I now see her as my rival. I want the same thing she does: Salvatore. And I realize I won’t hesitate to use the few tools I have.
I’m not a mafia daughter. I didn’t have privileges. I don’t even have status. But whatever it takes, I’ll do my best to make Salvatore see that I can stand by his side just like any other woman. I already have his trust—now I want his heart.
I watch as she takes a deep breath and steps back. I inform Salvatore, and he allows her to enter. The woman reports that her men have captured whoever it was they were looking for.
Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room shifts entirely. The men start making phone calls while checking their weapons. Personal items are gathered. I realize they’re going after the man.
"Should I wait for you, sir?" I ask Salvatore as he reaches the door. He was so focused that he hadn’t even noticed my presence.
"No, come with me," he says after checking the time. It’s only a few minutes until the end of the workday, so I assume he’s heading straight home.
I quickly gather my personal items and follow him, just as the woman continues to cling to Salvatore. I remember his words about professional boundaries and close my eyes, trying to maintain control. I wanted to pull out every strand of her hair, but unfortunately, I can’t.
We stop in front of a warehouse. Salvatore asks me to wait in the car and steps out, followed by his brothers and her.
I feel irritated and excluded. Why did they come here for something I can’t be a part of? Why is the woman with him, and I can’t be?

After about thirty minutes of waiting, I decide to go in. There shouldn’t be any problem; after all, I’m his personal secretary. I know his position in the mafia, so there’s nothing I shouldn’t be aware of.
That’s what I thought and what I told Matteu, who was guarding the warehouse door along with five other men. But as I stepped through the doors, I quickly realized that knowing who Salvatore was and actually seeing him in action were two very different things.