Page 6 of All’s Fair In Love & War (The Bulgari Cartel #2)

“Our territories? Gone. Supply chains? Cut. Soldiers? Dead. Who do you think they’ll go after as payback for you kidnapping Felicity? You? Nah. They’ll go for Sophia, nuestra madre, and Papa.”

He held my stare, unflinching.

“So get your shit together, Khalil. I don’t care if you hate her, and I damn sure don’t care if she bites your dick off again. You’re marrying her in thirty days.”

My jaw clenched. “After what she just did to me?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. That girl could burn your whole damn house down and you’d still have to walk her down the aisle, so set aside your feelings and do what needs to be done.”

“Better bring a leash and a muzzle to the ceremony.” Bats joked, but I didn’t laugh.

I was pissed the hell off.

Had Naeem not brought up our parents, Don or no Don, brother or not, there wouldn’t have been a single word he could’ve said to convince me to marry Felicity.

However, the moment he did, everything changed because our parents were everything to me.

My father built the foundation we stood on, and my mother held it together with grace and fire.

I owed them more than blood. I owed them everything.

The idea of dishonoring them by undoing what they spent their lives building twisted something deep in my chest. I couldn’t stomach the thought of disappointing them, even in death. Still… that didn’t make this any easier.

Marrying Felicity would keep the peace, secure the alliance, and preserve the legacy, but it would also cost me something I wasn’t sure I could get back—my peace, my control, and maybe even my damn sanity.

She was a disaster in human form, and yet, I knew what my father would’ve said if he were here right now instead of Naeem.

“Being a man isn’t about what you want. It’s about what you’re willing to sacrifice.”

And this was the price of being a Bulgari.

This marriage had nothing to do with Felicity—or even me. It was for the family. For the preservation of everything we built. For the man who gave me his name and the woman who taught me how to wear it with pride, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t furious.

I hated that I couldn’t say no, hated that loyalty came with chains, and I hated that, deep down, no matter how much she bit, clawed, or screamed, there was a part of me that still wanted to tame her.

If I had to marry Felicity Veneto, then I’d do it, but she was going to crawl to that altar, and I’d make sure she remembered exactly why she had to wear a collar before she ever wore a ring.

Naeem’s phone buzzed, slicing through the tension. He pulled it from his blazer, thumbed in the unlock code, and frowned at the screen. His eyes darted up. “My security flagged a blacked-out SUV pulling into the drive.”

Bats peered over, still snickering but less so. “Venetos?”

“Doubt it. Dallas might be stupid, but I doubt he’d be dumb enough to come here. It could be a delivery or—” Naeem cut off, turning his head as the faint thunder of footsteps rolled down the hall. “Never mind. They’re here.”

The living room doors swung open, and Tandy stormed in, all espresso skin and wild hair with eyes that could flay a man alive. She wore a cropped tee under an oversized Fendi bomber with bike shorts and knee-high Fendi boots, somehow making the ensemble both street and couture.

She took one look at me, slouched on the couch, dick-injury obvious, and rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. “Relax. No need to cover your dick. I wasn’t planning on raping you…” she paused, smirking. “… today. ” Tandy winked as she walked over to the bar.

She poured two fingers of something top shelf, then turned, leaning back against the counter as she sipped and took us all in.

Before I could ask her what she was doing here, Naeem, ever the opportunist, asked, “Did you know there’s someone downstairs?”

Tandy’s eyes flicked to him, one brow lifting. “Should I?”

“Yeah. You should,” he replied, watching her closely.

Tandy gave a slow nod, her curiosity stirring. Tandy gave a slow nod, her curiosity stirring. “Keep going. I’m listening.”

“Her name’s Felicity.”

“Veneto?” Tandy’s brows lifted slightly as she glanced between us, the name clearly ringing a bell. “As in... the Felicity Veneto—the daughter of the Don you were at war with?”

I tensed immediately and whispered his name. “Naeem—”

However, he didn’t look at me.

“Yeah,” he said, like I hadn’t spoken. “She’s downstairs.”

Tandy blinked. “And why the hell is she here?”

“Long story,” I said quickly, sharper than I meant to. “Not one we’re unpacking right now.”

Tandy’s eyes narrowed as they flicked to me while Naeem ignored me, stepping in smoothly. “She’s been through a lot. I thought maybe you could talk to her.”

Tandy turned her head slowly. “You want me to go down there and... talk to a Veneto?”

“Not about anything heavy,” he said. “Just... be yourself. No pressure.”

I sat forward slightly, pain sparking through my hip, but my focus was on Naeem. “She doesn’t know yet,” I said under my breath.

“That’s why she’s the right one to go in. She isn’t biased and has no agenda.”

Tandy looked between us, suspicious now. “Okay, what am I missing?”

“Nothing,” Naeem said. “She doesn’t trust us, and we’re trying to make her comfortable since she won’t be going anywhere for a while.”

Tandy didn’t answer right away. Instead, she tilted her glass, weighing the ask. “And what do I gain for doing you this favor?”

Naeem didn’t hesitate. “Ten grand. Cash. Today.”

“Just to talk?”

“Just to talk,” he confirmed. “No strings attached. If you can get her to talk and calm her down a little... the money’s yours.”

Tandy glanced at me. “This chick special or something?”

I stiffened slightly. “She’s a problem. That’s all you need to know.”

She nodded before turning back to Naeem. “I want it in hundreds.”

“Done,” he said. “I’m sure Khalil has that in his safe. He’ll settle the debt before you leave.”

“Okay,” Tandy replied before tossing back the rest of her drink, setting the glass down, and dusting off her hands. “Just know if she so much as shifts wrong, I’m going for the throat.”

As she walked toward the hallway, Naeem gave her one last nod. “Be careful.”

“I always am,” she said, not looking back.

I watched her disappear, jaw tight. “I respect Tandy, so I hate that you did that. If she finds out what this really is before I get to tell her...”

“Then we’ll pay her again,” Naeem said. “That’s the beauty of money. Everyone’s got a price.”