Chapter 221 Work, Work, And More Work

Chapter 221 Work, Work, And More Work
Days passed in a blur, and Rico was already back in the mansion. At first, nobody expected him to recover so quickly. The doctors certainly didn't.

Despite the doctor’s strict instructions to rest for two more weeks, he refused to stay in the hospital any longer. The moment he was well enough to walk around on his own, he signed the discharge papers and returned home.

Two days later, he was already back home, walking around the mansion as though he hadn't recently undergone surgery.

Calla hated it. Every morning she woke up hoping he would spend the day resting. Every morning he disappointed her.

The wound at the back of his head was still healing, but that didn't stop him from burying himself in work. Reports filled his desk once again. His phone never stopped ringing. Meetings came and went. Men arrived at the mansion at all hours of the day and night.

And through it all, Marco remained missing.

Leah, however, wasn't so lucky. The woman barely made it halfway through her escape before Rico's men found her. She had been caught attempting to leave the country through a private airport near Naples.

Calla still remembered the look on Ezio's face when he delivered the news. "She almost made it onto the plane," he had said.

Almost. That single word seemed to irritate Rico more than anything else.

Calla never asked what happened to Leah afterwards. The expression on Rico's face that day told her she didn't want to know.

But unfortunately, Leah's arrest brought them no closer to finding Marco.

Days turned into a frustrating cycle of dead ends and false leads. One warehouse would be raided only to discover it had been abandoned for weeks. One informant would swear they had seen Marco somewhere, only for the trail to disappear hours later.

It was as though the man had vanished from the face of the earth. The longer it went on, the worse Rico became.

One afternoon, Calla walked into his office carrying a tray of food because he had refused to have lunch downstairs, only to find him buried beneath stacks of documents.

The laptop in front of him was open, and his phone was pressed against his ear. There were dark circles beneath his eyes again.

Calla stopped at the doorway. “Rico.” He hummed absentmindedly without looking up. She tilted her head and raised a brow. “Rico," she called out again.

This time he glanced up. Immediately, he knew that look. “Uh-oh.”

Calla placed the tray on his desk. “You promised me you would rest," she said in a soft tone. 

His eyes fell back to the document in front of him. He replied, "And I will."

Calla folded her arms over her chest. "When?"

Rico signed the paper and reached for another file. "When this is over."

She crossed the room and shut the file before he could open it. That finally earned his attention.

His eyes lifted slowly to hers. "Lyra."

"No."

A sigh escaped him. He turned to face her. "Baby—"

"You nearly died," she cut him off, her voice came out in a crack. 

His jaw tightened. He hates seeing her like this. Worse, he is the cause of it.

But this argument wasn't their first. Nor would it be their last. 

Eventually, Rico leaned back in his chair and rubbed a tired hand across his face. "I'll rest when that bastard is six feet underneath my feet."

Calla’s shoulders dropped. The words ended the conversation immediately, because she knew he meant every single one of them. 

The day he got discharged, Rico swore to get revenge for her, Sophia, and Eli. He swore to end Marco. And she already knew there was no changing his mind.

With a defeated sigh, she simply walked around the desk, placed a kiss on his forehead, and forced him to eat.

At least that battle she could win... for now.



The days continued rolling by with council meetings and business resumed.

The territories had begun suffering without a Don to keep everyone in line.

What started as small disagreements quickly grew into bigger problems. Captains argued over borders. Old rivalries resurfaced. Businesses that paid for protection no longer knew whose authority to follow. 

In some areas, fights broke out over control of routes, properties, and profits. The chaos only grew with each passing week.

Several smaller groups saw the uncertainty as an opportunity and began pushing into territories that didn’t belong to them. Others challenged long-standing agreements, believing nobody was powerful enough to stop them.

Reports of violence, theft, and unrest arrived daily.

The council members watched it all with growing concern.

For years, fear and order had kept the territories stable. Now there was no Don sitting above everyone. No single authority is capable of ending disputes with one command. That was why the council had become desperate.

Every day they delayed choosing a Don was another day the disorder spread. And in their eyes, there was only one person capable of restoring control.

Rico Romano.

Meanwhile, Consigliere Dario remained in constant contact with him. Every few days, the older man would arrive at the mansion carrying updates regarding the council.

The seat of the Don. The council members had stopped debating. They had stopped arguing or looking elsewhere. There was no longer any question.

The decision had been made. Rico Romano would become the next Don.

One evening, Dario sat across from Rico in the study and finally delivered the official news. “The council has reached a unanimous decision.”

Rico barely looked up from the file he was reading. His brows were creased heavily.

Dario smiled slightly. “You don’t even want to know what the decision is?”

“I already know," he responded.

That earned a chuckle. “Then allow me to say it anyway," Consigliere Dario said and Rico finally glanced up. “The council will officially name you Don.”

Silence followed as they both stared at each other. Dario waited, expecting some reaction.

Pride, or excitement, or satisfaction. Something to show how he was feeling about the news. Instead, Rico simply nodded once, then returned his attention to the file.

Dario blinked. “That’s it?”

“What else do you want me to do?” Rico exhaled and glanced up at the man again.

“Celebrate perhaps.”

Rico closed the file. His face remained unreadable. “Marco is still alive," he said and the smile slowly left Dario’s face. Rico leaned back in his chair. “I’ll accept the title when this is over.”

There was nothing more to say after that. Because everyone knew exactly what he meant.