Page 52

“Right. Yeah. I’ll, uh, have someone from staff handle it.”

I nod once. “Make sure they pick up food. A litter box. Toys. All of it.”

Dante hesitates. Then tilts his head. “Since when do you give a shit about toys?”

I don’t answer. Because this isn’t about me. It’s about her. If it wasn’t for her getting attached to the little rascal, I would have had him dropped off at an animal shelter by now.

I don’t have the bandwidth, the mood, or the patience for pet ownership. And if I did, it’d be a real dog—big, loyal, mean, not this twitchy puff of fur.

I watch Ladro curl up next to the bowl of milk and yawn, and my jaw tightens. Little fucker is cute, though.

“Just make sure he’s looked after,” I mutter. “He’s... important.”

Dante doesn’t ask. He’s a smart man. Just nods once and backs out of the room.

And I’m left alone with a tiny ball of fur staring up at me, an aching shoulder, and the echo of her kiss still lingering on my mouth.

As if I don’t have a million things I should be focusing on. Moretti. Strategy. Blood. But all I can think about is her.

Her voice. Her hands. That robe sliding off her shoulders like a promise I wasn’t allowed to keep.

I drag a hand through my hair and exhale slowly.

“She’s trouble, ladrito.”

The kitten blinks up at me, completely unfazed, then starts purring the second I reach out and brush my knuckles over his tiny head.

“Very dangerous for a man like me.”

But I already know, it’s too late. Hell, it was too late that very night that she fell into my arms.

I’m in too deep. I can’t walk away from her. Not now...not ever.

My phone rings, and my thoughts scatter. When I pick it up, I see Luciano’s name on the screen. I press the green button and answer with a gruff, “Yeah?”

There’s no preamble.

“Colazione. Un’ora. Presentati.” Breakfast. One hour. Be there.

Click.

No room for argument. No explanation. Just expectation. In true Don Luciano style.

I stare at the screen for a beat after the call ends, then back at the kitten.

He licks his paw once. Like he doesn’t give a shit that the next hour might very well start a war.

I sigh, “Fanculo la mia vita.”

By the time I step out onto the terrace, the scent of espresso, scorched toast, and blooming rosemary fills the morning air.

The table stretches long beneath the pergola, draped in white linen and flanked by meticulously arranged chairs.

Sunlight dances across the crystal glasses and silver cutlery, like even nature is expected to show its respect.

It’s beautiful. Serene, but controlled. And I know better than to trust any of it.

Enzo’s already seated, stony-faced and silent beside Luciano, who sits at the head of the long table like a king surveying his court.

I walk in, blood still damp beneath my bandage, shoulder screaming, but I don’t let it show as I take the chair to his right, his enforcer’s seat.

The one that used to feel like power. Now it feels like a collar.

His eyes veer toward me once. Assessing and sharp.

“You’re late.”

I take a sip of coffee that tastes like ash and venom. “You’ll have to excuse my tardiness. I’m still bleeding from taking a bullet last night.”

Luciano stills.

The air around us tightens.

He raises one brow slowly, the only visible crack in his composure. Then leans back in his chair, fingers steepling over his stomach as he studies me.

“You were shot?” he asks, tone cool, but his eyes say otherwise.

Enzo twists toward me, voice low, urgent. “What?” he snaps. “Where?” his gaze sweeps over me, eyes narrowing. “What the fuck, Ares? Why are we only just finding out about this?”

I shrug with my good side. “It’s just graze, no big deal. I handled it.”

Enzo’s face hardens. “Who was it?”

But before I can answer, before I can say Nicolai’s name and ignite the fuse, I hear footsteps.

Soft and too fucking familiar.

Bianca steps out first, her heels clicking like punctuation across the floor. She flashes a smile at the table, unaware of the storm circling the air.

And then Jordyn follows, her laugh low, a little breathless.

She’s next to Matteo.

Standing a little too close for my liking.

He’s saying something in her ear, something that makes her glance up at him, smile tugging at her lips, just as they cross the threshold into the dining room.

My jaw twitches in agitation.

I don’t even hear what Luciano says next.

Because all I see is her . Her in that light purple dress that hugs her curves perfectly, curves that belong in my hands.

Her long blonde hair, damp and tucked behind one ear, standing beside him like she belongs there.

I get flashes of them kissing at the BBQ the other night and I can feel the blood in my veins heat up.

She doesn’t look at me. Which is worse than if she did.

Because silence is agreement. And her silence right now feels like the worse kind of punishment.

“We’ll discuss this later, ragazzi. I have an important announcement.”

Enzo doesn’t look at me. He just lifts his cup, sips once, then I hear him mutter.

“You’re not going to like it.” I pay no mind to either of them.

Jordyn hesitates when she sees me, but I keep my gaze on her settling across the table from me, sliding into a seat next to Bianca. She doesn’t meet my eyes, but her hand brushes the side of her neck, where I pressed my lips this morning.

The moment she takes her seat, the scent of her fills the air around me. Sinfully sweet, floral and fruity. I draw in a deep breath, filling my lungs with it.

Fuck, I hate that I have to sit here like nothing happened, pretending I didn’t almost fall to my knees for her this morning.

Luciano clears his throat. And just like that, every conversation stops.

Here we go.

He stands slowly, smoothing the front of his tailored jacket. Enzo doesn't move, but I can feel him watching me. I already know he’s going to say something that is going to piss me off.

Luciano’s voice is calm and measured as always.

“Before we start, I want to share something important. A new development for our family.”

I stare into my barely touched coffee. The knot in my shoulder throbs in time with my pulse.

Luciano continues.

“As you all know, maintaining strong business ties is the backbone of our legacy. And in these changing times, alignment is everything .”

He pauses. His gaze drags across the table, settling on me, then flicking briefly to Jordyn. A calculated move. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and so do I.

“That’s why I’m pleased to announce a formal alliance with the Mancini family.”

Jordyn lifts her head, curious. Matteo leans back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly while he watches my father.

Luciano’s next words fall like stone.

“And to solidify this partnership, we’ll do things the old way. With tradition and honour.”

My stomach knots before he even says it. Don’t you fucking say it.

“We have another wedding,” Luciano announces, unflinchingly. I hear Bianca gasp softly, “ Ares will be marrying Santino Mancini’s youngest daughter, Giana. The engagement will be announced later this week.”

My eyes lift to my father, slow and deliberate.

He’s already watching me, calm and composed, but I see it.

That glint beneath the surface. He’s waiting for me to speak…

daring me to challenge him in front of the entire table.

And I want nothing more than to reach over and slap that smug look off his fucking face.

But I stay quiet, despite the ire coursing its way through my body. I bite my tongue, because now is not the time.

Suffocating silence lingers at the table.

I can feel Jordyn’s eyes on me. But I can’t look at her. Because if I do, if I see a hurt look in her eyes, I’ll burn the whole fucking table and everyone on it down.

Luciano raises his cup of orange juice.

“To unity.”

A few others echo the toast. I don’t.

Because this isn’t about unity. I know exactly what this is.

This is a fucking message. It’s a power play to show who is really in control here.

He’s drawing a line in blood I’m not allowed to cross.

I stare down at my coffee, black and bitter.

And I stay silent.

Because there is nothing I say right now that won’t cost me everything.

But inside, I’m shaking.