I sat in my seat on the plane, the constant hum of the engine reminding me of the distance between myself and home. I was supposed to have returned to Sicily two weeks ago, but I couldn't leave Miami. Not when I have Aemilia by my side.

I knew my father was going to be furious with me. As his consigliere, it was my duty to stand by his side and assist him in running the Russo Mafia. But I couldn't ignore the pull I felt towards Aemilia. She was unlike anyone I had ever met before, and I was falling hard for her.

We have been together for approximately two and a half months now, and I cannot fathom my life without her. She is intelligent, stunning, and challenges me in ways that no one ever has. But I know that my father will not approve of our relationship. I take out my phone and look at the pictures of us together. I smile, remembering the moments we shared. I am aware that being with her involves certain risks, but I'm willing to take them.

The plane ride is long, but my thoughts keep me company. I think about Aemilia and our future together. I wonder what my life would be like if I weren't part of the mafia. If only I could be an ordinary man, I could love her without the fear of facing any consequences. But that's not my reality, and I have to accept it.

As I stepped into my father's office, I knew what was coming. The expression on his face made it clear that my explanation for being two weeks late was not going to cut it. I tried to come up with something during the plane ride home, but I knew it was hopeless.

"Why were you two weeks late?" he demanded.

"I had some business to attend to in Miami. It took longer than I had expected."

"Don't lie to me, Aurelio. You know better than that," he growled.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "I just needed some time away. You know how it is."

"I know how it looks," he retorted. "You are the consigliere of this family, not a tourist seeking entertainment."

I braced myself for what was coming next, knowing I couldn't hide the truth from him any longer. "I fell in love," I blurted out, bracing myself for his reaction. My father's expression turned from annoyance to anger in an instant.

For a moment, there was silence. And then he exploded. "You what?!" he roared, slamming his fist down on the desk.

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"I fell in love," I repeated, trying to keep my voice steady. "Her name is Aemilia, and she is..."

"I don't want to hear it," he interrupted me, his face flushing with anger. "Questo bambino sarà la mia morte con la sua stupidità. Love? You know better than to let your heart rule your head!"

"I know, I know," I said, feeling defeated. "But I cannot control my emotions."

He shook his head in disgust. "You're a Russo, Aurelio. Act like it."

"I understand that, Father," I said. "But please, hear me out. I've been thinking about this a lot, and I believe that I can still be of service to the family even while living in Miami."

My father's expression hardened. "And what makes you think I would allow that?"

"I have a lot of connections down there, Father," I said. "I could help expand our business in that region. With modern technology, we can easily communicate with anyone from anywhere in the world."

My father didn't respond for a long moment, his gaze fixed on me. Finally, he spoke. "You are my son, and I love you. But you must remember that our family comes first. I cannot allow you to prioritize your personal interests over the interests of our organization. And I certainly cannot allow you to jeopardize our security by getting involved with outsiders."

I nodded, knowing that the conversation was over. There was no changing my father's mind once he had made a decision. But I couldn't help feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of leaving Aemilia behind.

As I sat in my father's office, flanked by my two brothers, Matteo and Emilio, I couldn't shake the feeling of dread that gnawed at my insides. We gathered to discuss our plan for revenge against the DiAngelo family, who had encroached upon our precious territory. The stakes were high, and failure was not an option.

Matteo, the youngest among us, sat with his arms crossed and his face set in a grim expression. Emilio, the oldest, was tapping his foot impatiently. My father sat at his desk, his eyes narrowed in deep thought.

After a long silence, my father finally spoke. "We must make an example of the DiAngelos," he said in a low and menacing tone. "They must learn that there are consequences for crossing the Russo family."

Matteo nodded in agreement, his jaw clenched tightly. "I agree, Father. But what should our next move be?"

My father leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him. "We are striking at the heart of their organization," he said. "Their son is a weak spot. We can exploit that weakness."

My brother, Matteo, chimed in. "We've planned this out meticulously. We know that the son of the DiAngelo family will be at the club tonight. It's the perfect opportunity to strike."

My father nodded in agreement. "Make sure you do it cleanly and without any witnesses. We don't want the police getting involved," he warned us.

As we prepared to leave the office and carry out our plan, I nodded silently. However, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. This was a dangerous game we were playing, and I knew that there would be consequences. But I had to trust my brothers and our ability to emerge victorious.

I took a deep breath and followed my brothers out of the office, determined to do whatever it takes to protect our family's honor and reclaim what was rightfully ours.