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“Have I been struggling? Hm. In exchange for what exactly?” Theresa sips once more. “Our manpower? To crush the Yakuza? And here I thought the Falzone family’s strength lay in their manpower.”

“I…have had to adjust some of our alignments, and those who remain are my forward line against the Gattis.”

“Ah yes. The wedding I was so looking forward to has been canceled.” Her eyes flash like a cat approaching a bird. “You must be devastated.”

“Look.” Theresa strikes me as a woman who appreciates directness so cutting through the bush is my only option. “I know you want me dead. Or my family, at least. I know a few months ago you gave the order for my family and the Gattis to be wiped out because the feud between my father and Santino Gatti was growing tiresome and invasive. So the wedding was my way of ending that, but things change and people aren’t who they seem. And now that my father is dead, I know whose crosshairs are on my back. So I want to end this feud once and for all, and to do that, I need every last loyal man I have bearing down on the Gattis, but I can’t do that with the Yakuza in their pocket. So yes. I need help. But no one does anything for free, so I am prepared to sacrifice thirty percent of my drug trade in order to get what I want. And I’m offering it to you.”

Theresa seems completely unbothered by anything I’ve said. She’s as relaxed as if we were having tea discussing the next gala. Then the aura around her melts away, and I catch a glimpse of the shrewd businesswoman who’s brought her family to glory.

“Thirty-five percent and I want ten percent annual profit from your gun running,” she states firmly. “You’re a small fish. You understand that asking me for help not only gives you what you want but it puts my name in association with yours. For the rest of our lives. That kind of association comes with a cost.”

“Thirty-two percent and you can have five percent annual profit from guns. Which will increase exponentially without the Yakuza or the Gattis in my way.” My heart feels like it’s about to explode. I’m a lamb negotiating with a hungry hyena.

“Seven percent,” Theresa replies.

It’s a lot. She’s asking for too much, but she’s right. If she steps in to help me then the entire world will see the Mancinis helping the Falzones, and that association will never go away.

“Deal.”

Theresa smiles like an eager cat and drains her glass. “Excellent.” Her eyes dip briefly to my stomach. “And the man you were to marry, Roman was it? What if my men come across him? Do you need me to spare your lover?”

I have no answer for her as I’m doing what I can to not think about him. “If my plan works,” I reply. “He won’t be an issue.”

“Very well.” Theresa sets her glass down and then stands and holds out her hand to me.

I rise and take it. She’s surprisingly cold to the touch despite the warmth her relaxed air gives her. “So we have a deal?”

Our hands shake briefly and she smiles. “We have a deal. But I’m sure I don’t need to warn you, Jasmine, that the veryhintof disruption toward myself or anything I hold dear will bring the entire wrath of my family down on you.”

“I understand,” I say, fighting to keep my voice from shaking. “That won’t happen. I won’t stop until every single Gatti is in the ground.”

Theresa hums softly, then suddenly her entire demeanor changes and she speaks to me as if we’re long friends. “Walk with me then in the garden. I want you to tell me every detail of your plan and then I will see how we can help.”

33

JASMINE

Theresa makes good on her promise.

Within two hours of our meeting, several of her armed guards turn up at my estate with instructions to sweep and secure the manor from top to bottom. Another armed brigade takes the garden, and by the time dinner rolls around, new security rules and systems are in place.

All my remaining security are interrogated and then paired up with one of Theresa’s men to ensure there’s no double-crossing. They work with quiet efficiency, which leaves me free to move onto the next part of my plan.

Which is … nothing.

I’m making this up as I go along to distract from the pain of losing my father and Roman within the same week. The busier I am, the less my mind runs like a hamster on a wheel, but I’m running out of ideas. To distract myself, I spend the next day poring through my father’s office and absorbing every detail of the businesses until I discover something.

Something to do with the Yakuza.

It’s enough to persuade Theresa to use some of her weight and secure me a meeting with the Yakuza, so three days after Igain an alliance with the most powerful family in the State, I’m standing in front of the pinstripe-suit-wearing Yakuza man I met months ago with Alto. He still refuses to provide a name, but his men refer to him as Chairman, so that’s what I use despite the curl of his upper lip.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me, Chairman.”

He stands tall and proud with several of his suited men creating an arc behind him. Each one is armed to the teeth with several of their sleek black cars parked deeper in the warehouse. Their condition of meeting me was that I come alone, and facing them down with no one behind me is incredibly intimidating.

In a twist of luck though, focusing on my anger and grief makes me feel like I can take on the world, so my stance remains strong and my words steady.

“You called this meeting through the Mancinis,” the Chairman replies stiffly. “Why?”