Page 282 of Rosetti Family New York

"I'm fine," I say, surprised at how steady I sound. "Just touching up my makeup. Be right out."

"Take your time," Connor replies, though I sense his growing suspicion.

Emilio moves silently to the door, positioning himself for what’s about to happen. My heart races as I realize Connor will enter, and I’ll witness whatever violence unfolds.

I should warn him or create a distraction, but instead, I step aside and let it happen.

The door opens slowly. Connor appears, hand inside his jacket, searching for threats.

"Mara? You seem—"

Emilio moves quickly, closing the gap before Connor finishes. He slams the door and drives Connor into the marble wall with force.

"Connor Callahan," Emilio says, holding him against the wall with practiced ease. "Chase's nephew. European operations coordinator. The man who thinks he's with my woman."

"Your woman?" Connor gasps, blood trickling down. "She's working for us now, Rosetti. Has been for years."

"Has she?" Emilio asks, more amused than angry. "Yet she warned me about Pier 17. Strange behavior for a loyal Callahan asset."

My stomach drops as Connor takes it in, his eyes widening with rage. He had no clue. Chase hid my betrayal from his nephew, using him as bait.

“You lying bitch,” Connor snarls, twisting against Emilio’s grip. “You warned him? You compromised our operation?”

“Mind your language,” Emilio says, tightening his hold until Connor goes still. “We have a lady here.”

“She’s no lady—” Connor starts.

Emilio snaps Connor’s fingers in swift succession. Bones crack, echoing off the close tiled walls. Connor screams.

"I said watch your language," Emilio repeats, tone never changing from conversational calm. "And these fingers? They were getting too close to what doesn't belong to them."

Connor tries to cry out, but Emilio clamps a hand over his mouth, pinching his lip until blood wells.

“This mouth,” Emilio continues quietly, “was thinking of kissing her. Rude.”

The sound of tearing flesh makes my stomach lurch, but I can't look away. This is who Emilio really is beneath tailored clothes and quiet demeanor—not just dangerous. Terrifying.

My heart pounds and heat flows through my body.

“Jesus Christ,” Connor gasps through his ruined mouth, blood on his shirt. “You’re insane.”

“Devoted,” Emilio says, releasing him. “And territorial. Remember that when you're explaining to Chase why this evening ended early.”

Connor staggers, cradling his mangled hand against his chest while blood drips steadily from his split lip. “This isn’t over, Rosetti. Chase will—”

“Will what? Start a war with me?” Emilio laughs. “That rocket has already launched.”

His eyes find mine across the tiled space, making my breath catch.

“Go back to dinner,” he tells Connor without breaking our stare. "Explain to your security team that you slipped in the bathroom. Clumsy accident. These things happen."

"And if I tell them the truth?"

Emilio's smile is winter-cold and absolutely lethal. "Then you'll discover that broken fingers and split lips are just the beginning of what I can do when properly motivated."

Connor flees, leaving a trail of blood on the tiles. The door shuts quietly, enclosing me and Emilio in a space filled with three years of built-up tension.

"You didn't have to do that," I whisper, though my voice lacks conviction. "I could have handled Connor."