Page 82 of Double Trouble for the Mafia Prince

I sit in silence, the scent of Gianna’s skin still lingering on the cuff of my shirt.

The memory of Arietta ’s laugh still echoing in the back of my mind.

Marco looks at me hard.

"It’s time to grow up."

I stay silent for a beat too long.

Luca doesn’t blink.

Marco’s leaning forward now, elbows on his knees, the kind of posture that says there’s more coming and none of it good.

Luca reaches over to the decanter at his side and pours another glass, not for himself, but for me.

Slides it across the old table between us. "Drink," he says.

I do.

Not because I need it, but because I know better than to pretend this is casual.

The whiskey’s older than I am.

It burns clean, like it’s trying to cauterize whatever wound’s about to be carved open within me.

Marco speaks first, his voice low but firm.

"You’ve heard the chatter in the city, haven’t you?"

I shrug, just enough to say maybe.

I’ve heard plenty.

Half of it nonsense, the other half just true enough to keep the streets tense.

New power always draws noise.

But they’re not talking about that.

"There’s discontent," Marco says. "Not from the outside. From within."

Luca’s fingers drum against the armrest of his chair.

"Some of our own men think we forgot what built this family. They say we’ve gone soft. That we bought our way into power instead of earning it with blood."

I set the glass down, slower than I need to. "They’re not wrong, not exactly. We didn’t inherit the old guard. We carved our own seat at the table."

"That’s not comfort," Luca says. "That’s the problem. They think we don’t have the stomach to hold it."

Marco stands, crosses to the window where the light cuts sharp against the curtain.

"Last week, shipments were held up at the port. We lost three crates and had to bribe the inspector more than usual. Two days ago, the Belvini crew intercepted one of our cars near the garment district. Only let it go after they stripped it bare."

"Why the hell didn’t anyone tell me this?" I ask.

Luca lifts a brow. "You were busy, little brother."

That one lands.