Vicious 17 — hs
After his father's death, Harry Styles must take control of the family mafia while dealing with his unpredictable brother, Silas. He meets Y/N Castellano, the daughter of an Italian mafia boss, and learns about their arranged marriage.
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⬅️ last chapter
Y/N hated her family home. La villa.
Every time she stepped inside, the familiar scent of leather and old wood crept into her nostrils, and the walls seemed to close in around her, trapping her in the suffocating memories of her childhood. This house wasn’t a home—it was a prison, filled with ghosts of her past and the weight of her father’s oppressive control. Every room held echoes of Federico's voice, his cruel commands, the forced compliance, and the moments she wished she could forget.
Her feet dragged across the marble floors as she made her way down the hallway. The paintings on the wall, relics of wealth and power, stared down at her with cold indifference. She hated how this place always made her feel so small, so powerless. Every step felt heavier as she approached the office—the room where Federico had broken her spirit time and time again.
Y/N wasn’t the same girl who had left this place. She had found strength outside these walls. But being here brought back every ounce of fear, every memory of the things her father had made her do against her will. The weight of it all pressed against her chest, making it hard to breathe.
As she reached the door, she paused, taking in a deep breath before entering. Federico sat behind his large mahogany desk, his eyes gleaming as he looked up at her. The same smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, the one he used when he knew he had power over her.
“Ah, Y/N. You’re finally here,” Federico said smoothly, rising from his chair. “Come, sit. We have much to discuss.”
Y/N reluctantly took a seat in front of his desk, her posture stiff. She wasn’t here for a pleasant reunion. She could feel the tension, the unspoken manipulation hanging in the air like a thick fog.
Her hands gripping the armrests of the high-backed chair. The room, with its dark wood paneling and heavy drapes, felt suffocating as Federico began to speak. His voice, steady and authoritative, carried a story she had heard many times before, but this time, it seemed more personal, more direct.
“Yesterday I had my afternoon free, so I had a chance to catch up on my reading. It was lovely. I even got to read over the old families books” Federico began, his eyes locking onto hers. “What I read it resonated with me and I felt the need to tell you about it”.
Y/N's gaze remained fixed on him, her heart already heavy with the weight of what was to come. Federico leaned against his desk, his expression somber yet intense.
“Many generations ago, during the height of our family’s influence, there was a man named Giovanni Alighieri,” Federico continued. “Giovanni was my great-grandfather’s closest friend, a man who was like a brother to him. They built their empire together, side by side, facing challenges and forging alliances. Their bond was unbreakable—or so it seemed.”
Federico’s eyes darkened as he spoke. “Giovanni’s loyalty was tested when an outsider, a wealthy and influential merchant, offered him a tempting deal. This merchant promised Giovanni untold riches and power if he would betray my great-grandfather and sever their partnership. The merchant’s offer was seductive, and for a time, Giovanni wavered.”
He paused, letting the gravity of the story sink in. “Giovanni accepted the merchant’s offer, believing he could have it all—wealth, power, and influence. But the moment he betrayed my great-grandfather, everything changed. The merchant’s promises were empty. The wealth he was promised was nothing more than smoke and mirrors, and the power was fleeting.”
Federico’s voice grew colder. “When the betrayal was discovered, the consequences were swift and severe. My great-grandfather was left to fend for himself, but Giovanni faced a much harsher fate. The merchant, having used Giovanni to further his own ambitions, discarded him once his usefulness had ended. Giovanni was left with nothing—no wealth, no power, no friends. He lived out his days in obscurity, a cautionary tale for those who would betray their own.”
Federico’s gaze bore into Y/N’s. “The lesson here, Y/N, is that family is the cornerstone of everything. Betraying that bond is not just a personal failure; it’s a catastrophic mistake that can unravel everything we’ve ever built. Giovanni’s story is a reminder that loyalty to your own blood is paramount. You must understand that choosing to side with outsiders over your family can lead to your downfall.”
Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine. The story, though steeped in the past, felt chillingly relevant. Federico’s manipulation was clear, and the weight of the tale was meant to pressure her into reconsidering her loyalty to Harry and his family.
“I understand the importance of family, Father,” Y/N said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “But I also believe that loyalty should be earned and not just given because of tradition. I’ve made my choices based on what I believe is right.”
“Family is where your loyalty should lie,” Federico continued, his voice smooth and persuasive. “Your fiancé’s family might offer you comfort and luxury, but they cannot offer you the same bond and protection that your bloodline can. You must understand that.”
A bitter laugh escaped Y/N’s lips. “You’re not talking about loyalty. You’re talking about control.”
Federico’s face remained impassive, though his eyes flashed with irritation. “Control? Perhaps. But it’s also about survival and protecting what’s ours. Harry’s family is an external force—an ally today, but who’s to say they’ll be there when you need them most?”
Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes. She had heard this argument before, and it always seemed to come down to the same point: her father’s need to dominate and manipulate.
“Tell me,” Federico said, his tone shifting to a more insidious gentleness. “What have they promised you that’s worth risking your loyalty to us? Have they given you something more than what we’ve provided? Are they truly your family, or are they just a convenient arrangement?”
Y/N tried to steady her breathing. Federico’s words were like a tightrope she was forced to walk, balancing between her past and her present. “Harry and I have built something real. It’s not just about promises or convenience. It’s about who we are together.” She lied. Things were still rocky between them. However, he didn’t need to know that.
Federico’s gaze hardened. “And what happens when that bond is tested? When your fiancé’s family is no longer there to support you? What will you have left then? Remember, it’s not just about the present—it’s about the future, and what you stand to lose if you don’t choose wisely.”
Y/N felt a pang of anxiety at his insinuations. Federico was always so adept at planting seeds of doubt. She had to remind herself that she had chosen this path, and she needed to stay strong in her decisions.
“You know, Y/N,” Federico said, his voice carrying a tone of dark satisfaction, “Harry is probably already cheating on you. He’s always been unfaithful, if not physically, then certainly emotionally.” Y/N could tell that he. was done being nice and now he was coming directly at her. He wanted to hurt her.
Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. The accusation was jarring, especially after everything she had learned about her father’s manipulative ways. “Why are you so invested in my relationship with Harry?” she asked, her voice tinged with frustration. “Don’t you have more important things to worry about?”
Federico’s demeanor shifted instantly. His face darkened, and his anger flared. “More important things? You think I’m wasting my time with your personal affairs?” He took a menacing step closer, his eyes narrowing. “I know what you’re really involved in. I know Harry has kidnapped Gina and orchestrated the break-in at Augusto’s house.”
Y/N’s heart raced as Federico’s words hit her like a hammer. She struggled to process the gravity of his claims. “What are you talking about? How do you know all of this?”
Federico’s face was a mask of rage and control. “I have eyes and ears everywhere, Y/N. I’m not blind to the movements of those who threaten my family’s position. Harry’s actions are not just petty crimes—they’re direct attacks against my authority and my interests. His defiance won’t go unpunished.”
Y/N’s mind was spinning. The accusations against Harry were not only devastating but also deeply personal. She felt the weight of Federico’s manipulation more acutely than ever, realizing that his agenda was far more sinister than she had imagined.
“Why are you so determined to destroy him?” Y/N demanded, her voice rising. “What has he ever done to you that justifies all of this?”
Federico’s anger flared again, and he slammed his fist on the desk. “This isn’t just about Harry! This is about maintaining control and power. If Harry can challenge me, it means anyone can. And if anyone can, then my entire empire is at risk. I will not tolerate threats to my family or my position.”
Y/N stared at Federico, seeing him not just as a father but as a tyrant driven by a ruthless desire for dominance. Her heart ached with the realization that her choices were entwined with a web of power struggles and personal vendettas.
“I won’t be a pawn in your game, Federico,” Y/N said, her voice firm despite the turmoil inside. “I have to make my own decisions, and I won’t let you dictate my life or my relationship with Harry.”
Federico’s expression was a mix of frustration and grudging respect. “Do what you must, Y/N. But remember, every choice has consequences. And if you choose to defy me, you must be prepared to face them.”
With that, Federico turned away, his anger simmering but his resolve unshaken. As she left the office, the echo of Federico’s harsh words lingered in her mind. She knew she was caught in a dangerous game, one where personal relationships and family loyalties were tangled in a web of power and betrayal.
Stepping out into the hallway, Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions. The world seemed darker and more complicated now, filled with shadows cast by Federico’s manipulations and the unsettling truth about Harry’s alleged actions. She had to confront the reality of her situation and make decisions that would impact not just her future but the lives of those around her.
Y/N walked back through the grand hallways of the manor, her thoughts racing. She needed answers, clarity, and a plan. The love she felt for Harry was now overshadowed by suspicion and fear. Her father’s threats had stirred doubts, and the accusation of Harry’s betrayal gnawed at her heart.
Y/N stepped into her home, the weight of the conversation with Federico still heavy on her shoulders. The tension that had built up within her since her father’s accusations now simmered beneath the surface, leaving her feeling uneasy and unsure. As she walked through the entryway, the familiar warmth of the space did little to ease her anxiety.
Giana was seated on the couch, flipping through a book but clearly waiting for her. She glanced up as Y/N entered, instantly picking up on her friend’s troubled expression.
“You okay?” Giana asked, closing the book and setting it aside. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Y/N let out a shaky sigh and dropped her bag onto the nearest chair. She wasn’t sure where to begin, but Giana had always been her sounding board. If there was anyone who could help her navigate the mess in her head, it was her.
“My dad told me something today,” Y/N began, sinking onto the couch beside Giana. “He said Harry’s been sleeping with other people.”
Giana’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she didn’t interrupt. She could see that Y/N had more to say, and she waited patiently.
“I don’t even know why it bothers me so much,” Y/N continued, her voice soft and contemplative. “It’s not like we ever talked about exclusivity. I didn’t expect it... because we haven’t really defined what’s happening between us.”
Giana frowned slightly, her gaze focused on Y/N. “Why haven’t you talked about it?”
Y/N paused, running her hand through her hair as she tried to find the words. “I guess... I’m scared. Scared that I’ve been making everything up in my head. That maybe I’m just projecting my own feelings onto him and assuming that he feels the same. And what if he doesn’t? What if I bring it up and it turns out I’m just... imagining this connection?”
Giana leaned forward, her expression softening. “Y/N, do you really like him? Do you have feelings for him?”
Y/N looked away for a moment, feeling vulnerable in a way she hadn’t expected. The answer to Giana’s question was obvious, but saying it out loud made it all the more real. She swallowed hard before finally answering.
“Yes,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I do. I’ve tried to push it down, tried to ignore it, but I can’t. I care about him. A lot. I know I am insane to like someone as ruthless as him, but I can’t help it”
Giana gave her a gentle smile. “Then why are you so afraid of that? What’s the worst that could happen if you tell him how you feel?”
Y/N sighed, leaning back against the couch and staring at the ceiling. “What if he doesn’t feel the same? What if this is just some temporary thing for him, and I end up hurt? I’m not sure I can handle that. Especially with everything going on.”
Giana reached over and took Y/N’s hand in hers, squeezing it reassuringly. “You won’t know until you ask him, Y/N. You can’t keep living in this uncertainty. If you really care about him, you owe it to yourself to find out the truth.”
Y/N nodded slowly, knowing that Giana was right. The fear of rejection and heartbreak had kept her silent for too long, but it was becoming unbearable to stay in this limbo. She needed to confront her feelings and find out where she stood with Harry, even if it meant facing an uncomfortable truth.
“I just don’t know how to bring it up,” Y/N said, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
“Just be honest,” Giana advised. “Don’t overthink it. Harry’s not perfect, but if he cares about you even half as much as you care about him, he’ll listen.”
Y/N bit her lip, her mind swirling with thoughts of her next steps. She wasn’t ready to face Harry just yet, but she knew the conversation was inevitable.
The invitations had been sent, and the wedding was just a week away. Y/N sat in the backyard of the manor, her mind racing with details of the upcoming ceremony. The manor, had been chosen as the venue because it was the safest place. Y/N would be taking the initiation oath the night before the wedding, and Giana had been working tirelessly with Charlie and Lex to ensure everything went smoothly.
Y/N sat at a table, going over a checklist for the day, enjoying the rare peace the sunny afternoon offered. Her thoughts wandered to the oath, the ceremony, and Harry. The anticipation for the wedding filled her with a mix of excitement and dread. Despite the tension with her father and the whispered doubts about Harry’s loyalty, she couldn’t help but wonder what the future would look like after the vows.
She took a deep breath, letting the warmth of the sun relax her, but her mind never quite settled. She was still grappling with the conversation she had with Giana. Her feelings for Harry had grown beyond what she had expected, but the uncertainties, the secrets, and the games people around them played made it hard for her to trust in anything completely.
Just as Y/N’s mind started to drift away from the checklist in front of her, she noticed movement from the corner of her eye. Harry walked out onto the terrace, his expression unreadable, as it often was lately.
"Mind if I join you?" he asked, his voice smooth, but there was a tension beneath it.
She nodded, gesturing to the seat across from her. "Please"
Harry sat down, looking at her for a long moment before speaking again. "A week away… how are you feeling?"
Y/N smiled slightly, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "A little overwhelmed, to be honest. It feels like everything is happening so fast."
"That’s because it is," he replied, a flicker of something dark in his gaze. "But I think we’ll manage”.
"Will we?" she asked, her tone unintentionally sharp, betraying the unease she had been holding in.
Harry raised an eyebrow, sensing the change in her demeanor. "What’s going on, Y/N?"
She hesitated, unsure if she wanted to broach the subject that had been gnawing at her since her conversation with her father. But it had been eating at her long enough. She deserved to know, even if the truth hurt.
"My father said something to me," she began, her voice quieter now. "I think he is just feeding me lies, but I don’t know”.
Harry’s face hardened at her words. He didn’t immediately deny it, and that silence felt like confirmation to her.
Y/N looked down, trying to hide the sting of the moment. "I don’t know why I even brought it up”.
"Stop," Harry interrupted, leaning forward. His voice was softer now, but still intense. "Your father doesn’t know what he’s talking about."
"Then tell me what I don’t know," she replied, finally meeting his gaze again, her eyes searching his for something—anything—that could reassure her.
Harry leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He looked at Y/N, his jaw tight and eyes shadowed with unspoken thoughts. He stood up, glancing at the manor behind them before turning back to her.
"Let’s go for a walk," he said suddenly, breaking the tense silence between them. His voice was firm, but there was an underlying vulnerability in his tone. "I’d rather we weren’t here… not for this conversation."
Y/N looked at him for a moment, then nodded. She knew what he meant. The house had too many ears, too many eyes—especially when it came to matters like this. Without a word, she stood, and Harry offered his arm for her to take. It was a simple gesture, one that momentarily reminded her of the boyish charm he used to have, the one she used to admire before everything became so complicated.
“Leave the papers,” Harry said, glancing at the table where her checklist, diary, and half-drunk cup of coffee sat. “Someone will take care of them for you.”
She hesitated, her fingers lingering on the edge of the diary, but then she nodded, letting it go. Together, they stepped off the terrace and onto the freshly cut grass of the manor’s sprawling grounds. It was quiet, the only sound the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. The stillness between them, however, was heavier than the serene afternoon.
They walked in silence for a while, the weight of the conversation they were about to have pressing down on both of them. Harry kept his gaze ahead, his jaw clenched, clearly wrestling with his own thoughts. Y/N finally broke the silence.
“I’m not expecting anything unrealistic from you. I don’t need a fairytale, and I definitely don’t expect love to just happen because it’s not like we’re the typical couple. But I do expect respect.” Her words were steady now, the knot in her chest easing as she let the truth spill out. “I need to know that, despite all of this, you’ll be honest with me. I don’t expect you to feel the same, but I do expect respect.”
Harry stopped walking, his brow furrowing slightly. “Respect, yeah?” His tone was low, thoughtful, as if weighing her words. “You think I’ve not been respecting you?”
“It’s not that,” Y/N replied quickly, taking a step closer to him. “It’s just… I don’t know where we stand. There’s been talk… my father said things, things that made me wonder if you—”
“If I what?” Harry asked, his gaze hardening as he locked onto her. His jaw tightened ever so slightly, but his voice remained steady.
Y/N took a breath. “If you’ve been… with someone else.”
His face darkened, not out of anger toward her, but at the mention of Federico. He took her hand in his and started walking again, slower this time.
“Your father’s saying things to turn you against me, Y/N,” Harry said quietly, a heaviness in his voice. “He wants to mess with your head. I told you before—our families have agendas. And that makes this complicated. But what I need you to know is that you’re not just a pawn in this to me. I might not be good at showing it, but…”
Harry hesitated, his grip on Y/N's hand tightening for a brief second. His jaw tensed, and he let out a long breath before finally speaking, his voice softer but laced with tension. "Look, I’m not going to lie to you, Y/N. I have slept with other people." He said it straight, no dodging, no sugarcoating, but the weight of his confession hung in the air between them.
Y/N's stomach twisted, but she stayed quiet, letting him continue.
“It’s not because I don’t care about you,” he added quickly, his tone urgent, as if trying to make her understand before she pulled away. “It’s because I do. And that terrifies me. You’re… you’re already a target just because of me. And every day, every night, it eats me up inside thinking about how easily someone could hurt you just to get to me.”
He stopped walking, turning to face her fully now, his eyes searching hers, desperate for her to understand. “You have no idea how many enemies I’ve made. People who wouldn’t think twice about using you as leverage. I don’t sleep most nights because of it. The thought of you getting caught up in all of this—it’s too much. And I guess… sleeping with other women, it was a way to push you out of my mind, to convince myself that I didn’t care as much as I do.”
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she looked up at him, the hurt still raw, but something in his voice tugged at her. His eyes were darker than usual, shadowed by something deeper, something real. Fear. Guilt. Shame.
“Harry…” she started, unsure of what to say, her mind spinning with the weight of his words. She had expected to be angry, to feel betrayed, but hearing him like this—seeing the vulnerability in his usually composed exterior—she just felt… lost.
“I know I’m no good at this,” he continued, his voice quieter now, like he was confessing something he’d never let himself admit. “I thought pushing you away would keep you safe, but it hasn’t worked, has it?”
Y/N blinked, trying to process it all, but she could see it. The fear behind his actions. The desperation. He wasn’t just a man playing games or being reckless—he was someone who didn’t know how to deal with his own feelings.
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