Page 122 of The Mafia Marriage Contract

"You want us to be your enforcers," I say with a sigh.

"We want you to be partners. Junior partners, but partners nonetheless."

I raise an eyebrow at Bronx, then at Reign. Both their faces are stone, but I know what they're thinking. This isn't a partnership. It's pretty much slavery with financial and geographical benefits.

We’d be their fucking lackeys.

"We'll consider your offer," I say after a beat of silence.

"I'm afraid we need an answer today."

"Then you're not going to like it."

The hairs on the back of my neck prickle as his gaze turns to ice. "Mr. Viacava, you seem to misunderstand your position."

My spine stiffens. "No, I understandit perfectly. You need us more than we need you. Otherwise, you wouldn't be offering deals. You'd be putting bullets in our heads."

"That can still be arranged."

I lean forward, pressing my hands flat on the table. "Try it. See what happens when you go to war with two families at once."

"Two families?"

"You think Cormac O'Callaghan is going to sit quietly when he learns you gave his daughter an ultimatum that involved killing him? You've overplayed your hand."

The man in the middle looks at his colleagues. A flicker of doubt creeps into his tight expression.

"We'll give you seventy-two hours to reconsider," he says finally.

"Don't bother. The answer will be the same."

We're almost to the elevator when he comes after us.

"Your brother is investigating some very dangerous people, Mr. Viacava. It would be unfortunate if his curiosity led to complications."

I stop and twist sharply around. "What the hell did you say?"

"Bronx has been asking questions about overseas operations. Foreign assets. The kind of questions that make certain people nervous."

Bronx steps forward, his fists clenched tight, but I hold up a hand.

"Stay the fuck away from my family," I warn. "All of my family."

"Then stay away from information that doesn't concern you."

The ride down is silent until we reach the parking garage.

"They're scared," Bronx says, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

"Good. Scared people make mistakes."

"Or they kill everyone who scares them."

"Let them try."

We drive to Dad's estate for the family meeting I've been putting off. Dad, Cormac, and both their advisors are waiting in the study.

"Well?" Dad asks the second we walk in. “What happened?”