The Mob Queen Wants to Claim Me for Herself (In a Reverse World)

[Maddy’s pov]

“ADAM!”

Caterina’s scream tears through the VIP lounge as she hurls herself at the door for the third time. The solid metal doesn’t budge, not even when her shoulder slams against it with enough force to shatter normal wood.

“Boss, wait!” I shout, but she’s beyond reason. The cocaine has her wired to the point of mania, her pupils blown so wide her crimson eyes look almost black.

“ADAM IS ALONE!” she screams, her voice raw with desperation. “HE’S ALL ALONE!”

Lara rushes forward, positioning herself beside Caterina. “On three, boss!” she shouts. “One... two...”

I don’t wait for three. I join them, all three of us slamming into the door simultaneously. The impact reverberates through my body, pain shooting up my shoulder, but the door remains stubbornly shut.

“Fuck!” Caterina howls, pounding her fists against the metal. “ADAM! ADAM!”

Lara pulls out a pistol. “Let’s just shoot it down.”

I panic. “Don’t be a fucking idiot. It’s metal. If you shoot the door, it’s just gonna bounce off it!”

Lara’s shoulders sink as the realization settles in.

The monitors are still showing the chaos at the podium, medics swarming around Valentina’s fallen body, spectators screaming, security personnel rushing in every direction. But Caterina hasn’t spared a single glance for her cousin since we realized Adam was alone in the bathroom.

I grab my phone, fingers trembling as I dial our security team waiting outside the building. “This is Sullivan. Get these doors open NOW!”

From the corner of my eye, I can see Isabella watching us with clinical detachment, her jade eyes tracking Caterina’s frantic movements like a scientist observing a lab rat. Tony remains huddled in his seat, shoulders hunched, gaze fixed on the floor.

“How long?” Caterina demands, her voice cracking with desperation as she whirls toward me. Her suit jacket is torn at the shoulder, blood seeping through the white fabric where she’s been ramming the door.

“Five minutes, tops,” I promise, though I have no idea if that’s true.

Those five minutes stretch into an eternity. Caterina paces like a caged animal, mumbling Adam’s name over and over, her bloodied hands clenching and unclenching.

Finally, electronic locks disengages with a heavy click. Caterina doesn’t wait, she’s through the door before it’s fully open, sprinting down the hallway passed our team toward the men’s room, her white suit a blur of motion. Lara and I race after her, struggling to keep up.

She slams into the bathroom door with her full weight, nearly tearing it from its hinges. “ADAM!” she screams, her voice echoing off the tile walls.

The bathroom is empty. Completely empty.

Caterina freezes, her body going rigid as her crimson eyes scan the vacant space.

“No,” she whispers, the word barely audible. Then louder: “No.”

She drops to her knees. "No, no, no, no, NO!" Her voice rises with each repetition until she’s screaming, the sound primal and horrifying.

Caterina’s head snaps up suddenly, her crimson eyes clearing for just a moment through the cocaine haze. “Wait... who would take Adam here? At a race track? In Italy?” Her voice drops to a whisper as realization crashes over her like a tidal wave. “This was coordinated. This was planned. First Valentina and then my Baby!”

Caterina’s entire body goes rigid, her crimson eyes widening in horrified understanding. “Isabella,” she whispers, the name like poison on her tongue. Then louder, her voice rising to a scream that bounces off the bathroom tiles: “ISABELLA!”

She whirls around, already moving toward the door with terrifying purpose.

“Boss!” I start, but she’s already halfway down the corridor, her bloody white suit flashing under the fluorescent lights as she sprints back toward the VIP lounge.

“That backstabbing Southern cunt!” Caterina’s howl echoes through the hallway. “She set this up! She and that psychotic bitch Luna! It’s weird she wasn’t with them today! IT MUST HAVE BEEN THEM!”

Her hand plunges inside her jacket, emerging with her custom Beretta. The sight of that gun sends ice through my veins. She’s going to start shooting in a crowded Formula 1 venue. I draw my own weapon instinctively, pulse hammering in my throat as I race after her.

“Lara!” I shout over my shoulder. “Secure the exits!”

Lara’s already moving, her wild red hair flying behind her as she splits off toward the emergency stairwell. I catch a glimpse of her savage grin, she’s been waiting for this, itching for violence since we arrived.

I have no idea if Isabella is actually behind this. But Caterina’s beyond reason, beyond logic. There’s only rage and cocaine and the desperate terror of losing Adam.

We burst back into the VIP lounge, weapons drawn, but Isabella and Tony are gone. Their seats sit empty, a half-finished glass of champagne the only evidence they were ever there.

“FIND THEM!” Caterina screams, her voice cracking with fury as she kicks over the nearest chair. “LOCK DOWN THIS FUCKING BUILDING!”

Our security team scrambles to action, but I can already tell it’s too late. Isabella is too smart to stick around after setting something like this in motion. She’s probably halfway to a private airstrip by now.

Caterina whirls on me, her crimson eyes wild with desperate fury. “Call everyone. EVERYONE. I want eyes at every airport, every dock, every fucking border crossing in Europe.” Her voice drops to a lethal whisper. “And get me a list of every property Isabella owns. Every safe house. Every business. Every fucking toilet she’s ever pissed in.”

“Boss,” I interject. “We also need to deal with Valentina. There are going to be investigators crawling all over this place any minute.”

Caterina whirls on me, her face transformed into something feral and unrecognizable. Those crimson eyes, dilated to black pools from the cocaine, fix on me with such intensity I take an involuntary step back.

“FUCK!” she screams, the single word echoing through the VIP lounge with such raw anguish it makes my skin crawl.

*****

[Claire’s POV]

I take another sip of my Mountain Dew and Dr. Pepper concoction, wincing at the sugar rush that hits my system. The carbonation burns my throat in that perfect way that makes me crave more immediately. The house feels too quiet, too empty without him, making the TV’s drone the only thing keeping me from total isolation.

On-screen, Valentina De Luca stands triumphant on the Monza podium, her crimson eyes gleaming with victory as she hoists the trophy above her head. The Italian crowd goes wild, their cheers almost drowning out the commentators’ excited babble.

Luna promised she’d bring him Adam back soon. But something about the whole plan has been nagging at me lately.

“Why did she need Caterina’s Monza schedule?” I mutter, poking at the remaining fries. “Seems excessive just to grab Adam while she’s watching the race.”

My thoughts are interrupted by a flash of red on the screen. Valentina’s head snaps backward violently, blood goes flying behind her. The trophy tumbles from her hands as she falls to the floor.

The soda slips from my fingers, ice, and liquid splashing across my lap and the carpet. My half-eaten fries scatter across the coffee table as my body jerks in shock.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, both hands covering my mouth.

The broadcast cuts away immediately, the camera panning wildly to the commentators’ booth. Their faces are frozen in identical expressions of horror, mouths hanging open mid-sentence. One woman’s hand is pressed against her earpiece, her eyes widening as she receives information.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she stammers, her professional composure crumbling, “we... we appear to be experiencing a situation on the podium. We’re going to commercial break while we... while we assess what’s happening.”

“Oh. Fuck.”

A/N: Claire

A/N: A progress update. I think theres only 10 to 20ish chapters of the story left. I don't want people blind sided by this so thats the tea