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I whirl on Matteo, my voice low deceptively calm. “You told him I’d think it over?” My eyes burn, chest heaving.
He meets my gaze, his steady. “Had to, Enzo. Shooting him starts the war now. He’s just a messenger.”
My laughter is sharp as I pace the gravel. My blood’s steaming with fire and brimstone. “They think they can toy with me?” I growl, kicking at the ashes, remnants of the letter, scattering it into the wind.
“A bride as peace offering? Are they fucking kidding me?”
Matteo steps closer to put his arms on my shoulders. “You’d have killed him, and we’d be fucked. Rossis ain’t weak. We fight, we win, but we lose men, money, maybe everything. You know this, Enzo.”
I want to smash his face, but he's right. I just hate to admit it. I'm not one given to acting on a whim. I think things through before I come to a decision. But this situation right here has my ears blind to reason. I just want to fight and kill all the Rossi bastards, the same way they’d killed my mother.
“Come on,” he says, nodding toward the garage. It’s a stone building off the yard, packed with cars and crates, smelling ofoil and metal. Swearing under my breath, I follow, my boots crunching loud.
We get inside the garage and Matteo says, pointing to a crate “sit.”
I shoot him a wry look. “You don't do the ordering, I do.”
He shrugs as if to say he doesn't give a damn. He regards me coolly as I pace. He clears his throat, leaning against a car and begins tentatively, “You have to look at this strategically, Enzo. Marrying her could turn out to be a power move. She can't be more than 25. The implication here is she'll be easy to manipulate. You take her, you control their routes, their cash. You choke ‘em from the inside.”
I stop in my strides to glare at him. “Fuck that,” I snap. “I don’t know her. Don’t want her. I’m not settling down, Matteo. Not with Rossi filth.” My voice cracks, distress leaking through. A wife? Now?
It’s a cage.
He keeps going. “You’d own their empire, Enzo. Their men, their deals. You’d end this war without a bullet.”
I shake my head, chest tight. “I’d rather kill them all.” My hands shake, rage and fear mixing. I don’t want a Rossi in my bed, my life. I'd sworn to avenge my mother's death. Allowing a Rossi into my home would be me betraying her. Hell, even thinking about it is enough betrayal.
Matteo sighs, but he doesn’t push. He’s stated his reasons. He knows I'll need time to mull over it before I come to a decision.
Footsteps crunch outside, and we both train our eyes to the entrance door of the garage. It's Adriano. He walks in, his cane tapping. “Heard about the delegate,” he says, voice rough. I glare, still raw from earlier, but he’s my father’s old advisor, loyal as fuck.
“Matteo says marry her,” I mutter, pacing again. “Says it’s smart.” Adriano nods, stroking his chin.
I stop, searing him with a look. “What do you think?”
His smile is fulfilling as though he's honored that I'd ask him. “Matteo’s right. Your father took deals to save blood. Marrying Serafina gives you their power, Enzo. You’d run both families, cut their throats without a knife.” His eyes soften. “It’s what he’d do.”
I flinch, hating the comparison, but his words sink in. Control, not chaos. I stop pacing, my breath heavy as my mind spins.
I turn away, staring at the garage wall, oil stains like blood splattered across it. For the first time, I recall my mother's face. It's frozen in my mind from that day she'd left for her trip those twenty years ago, only to end up dead. She liked to smile with the whole of her face. I'd forever remember her like that.
Her death had rocked my world, more so my father's. Although, he never admitted it up until his death five years ago. He'd agedquickly after her death, the loss of it weighing him down. He had lost some of the steel in him.
Marrying a Rossi feels like letting those bastards win. But Matteo and Adriano’s words twist in my gut. They're truths I can't ignore. Ihatethem, but I have to put it aside, albeit temporarily. They're two truths that can coexist.
Itwouldbe total control over them. It'd be a way to crush them without losing everything. I’d hit them back right in the jugular when they least expect it. It’ll be the ultimate revenge.
The Rossi girl flashes in my mind for a fleeting moment. This stranger I’m supposed to bind myself to, I wonder of her outlook. But that's not what's important.
Right now, I'm torn between hate and the cold logic of their plan, and I fear that the latter might be the winner.
4
Serafina
I push open the heavy oak door to my father’s meeting chamber, my heels clicking sharp against the marble floor. Carlo had informed me my father wanted to see me. I’d wondered as I walked here if he’d found a fix for this Rossi-Mancini mess. Riccardo, expectedly, hasn't been able to come up with anything, even though he's the one that started this whole mess in the first place.
The room unfolds before me, vast and cold, its walls draped in deep green velvet, gold sconces flickering with weak light. A massive table dominates the center. It's carved with vines, its surface gleaming under a crystal chandelier that throws prisms across the stone floor. The air’s thick with the scent of old leather and wax, like a tomb for secrets. I hadn't been here in a longtime. I prefer to have my meetings in some other part of the villa. This one's reserved for my meetings with Papa.