Page 52 of His Son's Ex

A ruthless smile tugs at my lips. “We have. But old man Lombardi’s cunning. He might find new investors if I start seizing his assets.”

Her expression hardens. “Let me talk to him. Officially, we’ve been at peace for some time. If he hopes to maintain that, he’ll at least listen.”

I lean back, unconvinced. “And if he doesn’t?”

Her eyes flash. “Then we starve him. Financially, physically, mentally—whatever it takes. That man would rather see his entire family fall to ruin than admit he’s lost. I’ll show him he already has.”

I rub my jaw, tension creeping into my neck. “I appreciate it, but in all honesty, I’m out for blood. Lombardi orchestrated the attack at the wedding. He had his men ambush me at my home. He’s crossing lines.”

She sets down her teacup and reaches over to lay a hand on my knee. “We’re not in the days of the War of the Black Roses,Dante. You remember that time—you and I stood side by side, burying your father and your two brothers. We nearly burned the whole city down back then.”

Dark memories flash in my mind—the nights spent hunting our enemies, the endless funerals, the wave of guilt that never quite left my soul.

“You were the one who told me no mercy, Mother,” I say quietly.

She inhales sharply. “And I stand by that for those who show none. But this is different. We have dominion over the syndicate, and the city’s fragile equilibrium depends on us not turning every street corner into a war zone. If we want to keep our power, we need to be smarter.”

“Smarter,” I echo. “Fine. But if the Lombardi’s push me one more time?—”

“You’ll do what must be done,” she finishes, voice clipped. “But not until I speak to them. Understood?”

I give a curt nod. “Understood.”

She relaxes a fraction, smoothing out her dress as she sits back in her chair. “Good. We’re going to handle this carefully, rationally. Besides, you have more going on in your life right now than the Lombardi’s.”

I tense, anticipating her next words. She never asks outright, but I see the curiosity burning in her eyes.

“Before anything else, I want to meet this Eva Smith.”

My chest tightens. “Why?”

Her eyebrows arch. “Because she’s important to you, obviously. And I don’t trust outsiders without assessing them myself.”

“She’s not part of our world,” I say firmly. “She doesn’t need to be dragged into our politics.”

She gives me a pitying smile. “Dante, if you’re this invested in her, it’s already too late. She’s part of your life, which means she’s involved in our world whether she likes it or not. Don’t insult me by pretending otherwise.”

I blow out a breath, frustration mingling with a protectiveness for Eva. “Fine. But don’t interrogate her. She’s not like Linda. She’s got integrity.”

Nonna laughs. “Integrity, you say? You do love a contradiction, don’t you?”

“Is it wrong to want someone untainted by the worst of what we do, unaware of the horrors we’ve seen and committed?”

Her expression turns thoughtful. “No, and I do understand. But I am curious about her. She works for you, but she’s also your companion, yes?”

The question hits harder than I care to admit. “Yes,” I say quietly. “And I trust her. She’s brilliant with computers, hates senseless violence, and she keeps me grounded in ways I never expected.”

My mother’s lips curve with something akin to pride. “That might be exactly what you need,figlio mio.That’s all the more reason for me to meet her. Invite her to dinner. It can be acosa di famiglia.”

A family thing. That means Luca, Sarah, and Linda.

Great.

I hesitate. “You sure it’s wise to include Linda?”

She waves her hand through the air dismissively. “Oh, I can handle Linda.”

My mother’s stubbornness may be annoying at times, but it’s also comforting. There’s no one better at controlling a situation than her. “All right. I’ll talk to Eva. But if she’s uncomfortable?—”