Dangerous Intent (Cruel Empire #3)

Chapter 1

ONE

Marchello

Broken, shattered, and traumatized. I couldn’t stand seeing Lissia this way.

But even worse than experiencing her pain, I had to live with the knowledge that my family was the reason she buried her father today.

Business associates gathered at Gian’s estate to show their respect. Lissia didn’t know most of them, but I recognized the important players.

My presence was a stark reminder to all of them that the Accetti family was in control. Their glances displayed terror mixed with admiration that Milo and I had the balls to show up after what had happened to Gian.

The only one who seemed to be in the dark was Lissia.

She greeted and thanked each person who offered comforting words with grace and strength. Dressed in her expensive and elegant black dress, she held her head high and accepted each person with a subtle smile and a kind response. Her actions were a mask that I saw through.

The funeral preparations had not been easy for her. I’d offered to have someone plan and execute this day, but she’d insisted she had to be the one to do it. Gian had put her through too much pain, but she chose to make sure he had a proper burial and a dignified send-off.

I would have thrown him in a ditch and called it a day if he had done to me what he had done to her, but she had a bigger heart than I did.

“Are you okay?” I placed my hand on her shoulder. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’m fine.”

“You haven’t had anything to eat all day.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“How about a glass of water? You’re probably thirsty, and those shoes have to be killing your feet.”

“I said I’m fine.” She waved to someone across the room. “You don’t have to hover.”

“I’m not hovering.”

“Yes, you are. You’re almost as bad as Ricardo.” She glanced down the hall toward the kitchen. “I should go check on the caterers and make sure lunch is ready.”

“Your mother is handling that.” I gazed around the family room as more people entered the house. “Ricardo is helping her.”

“I can help her too.”

“Stop it!” I snapped. “You’re not fine. Don’t pretend with me.”

Watching her grieve put me on edge. Knowing there wasn’t anything I could do about her pain tore me up inside, but I shouldn’t have been taking out my frustration on her. None of this was her fault.

“I’m sorry,” I said, lowering my voice. “I’m worried about you.”

Placing my hand on the small of her back, I led her into her father’s study, away from the crowd.

“Why are we in here?” She slipped off her black stilettos and rubbed her heel. “We should be out there greeting our guests.”

“You could use a break.” I placed my arms around her waist. “It’s been a long few days. You can take a few minutes for yourself.”

“After today, we can put all of this behind us.” She rested her palm on my cheek. “You can get back to running your business.”

“My business isn’t important now.” That wasn’t true, but even if it was business as usual, my main focus was her.

“Why not? This war is over. You can concentrate on what needs to be done without my father’s interference.” She gently kissed my lips. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Not at the expense of your pain.”

“Well, that can’t be helped.” She pulled out of my hold and put her shoes back on. “Those people out there are just as interested to see you as they are to offer their condolences. I see how they’re interacting with you.”

“They are showing me their respect after a strenuous few months within the organization. Those who didn’t stand with me are rethinking their position. They want to make sure I don’t retaliate.”

“Are you going to retaliate?” she asked.

I didn’t want to discuss any of this with her. No matter how I felt about Gian, he was still her father. She had a right to mourn him however she saw fit. It wasn’t my place to judge her.

“Some of them may ask you about your father’s business,” I said. “I don’t want you to engage. Tell them to talk to me or Milo if they have questions or concerns.”

“Okay.” She nodded toward the door. “We should get back out there.”

Why wasn’t she arguing with me? Trying to challenge me to get me to answer her question?

“Wait.” I reached for her hand. “You don’t owe any of those people anything. Most of them paid their respects at the service. I can have Dom bring the car around, and we can leave.”

“I can’t leave before lunch.” She shook her head. “That wouldn’t be right.”

“There is no right way here.” I brushed her knuckles along my lips. “My only concern is you.”

“I’m not going to break.” She smiled. “I can get through the rest of this afternoon, especially if I have you by my side.”

“I’ll be here for as long as you need me to be.”

I hadn’t left her in days. She hadn’t given into her grief yet, and I wasn’t sure if she felt guilty over the way things were left between her and Gian or if she was still in shock that he was actually gone.

Either way, I vowed to be with her through all of this. I understood the raw and devastating pain of losing a parent.

“Thank you.” She squeezed my hand. “It must be difficult for you to be here for all of this.”

“Why would it be?”

“You hated my father. He tried to kill you.”

“I won’t deny how I felt about him, but I’m here because of you.” I kissed her cheek. “No matter what he did to me and my family, he was still your father, and I respect your feelings.”

“I’m trying not to dump all of this on you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Now isn’t the time to get into this.”

“I disagree.” I led her to the sofa and guided her to sit. “What are you trying not to dump on me?”

“Marchello, I don’t want to get into this now.”

“Then we’ll sit here until you’re ready to get into it.”

“You’re going to bully me? Today?”

“I’m not bullying you, but I need you to know that I’m here for you.” I caressed her cheek. “Nothing you tell me would be a burden.”

“It’s just that I know my father was your enemy. I’m not happy with some of the things he did, especially during these past few months, but he was still my father, and I need to come to terms with his death and how I feel about it.”

“I agree.”

“I don’t expect you to help me through these emotions.”

“That’s what this is about?” I ran my hand through my hair. “You’re shielding me from your grief?”

“I’m making life easier for you.”

“You don’t have to do that.” I continued to stroke her hair “I didn’t like your father?—”

“That’s an understatement.” She rolled her eyes. “You would have killed one another if I hadn’t intervened.”

She stared at me. Was she searching for the truth? Did she want to ask me if I had any part in his death? How long before I had to come clean?

She was only a breath away from learning the truth, and if I didn’t accept that, I would be a fool.

“I didn’t approve of his business tactics,” I said, “and I despised him for what he did to you, but I can accept who he was to you. I respect your grief. I don’t want you to hide your feelings from me.”

“I’m not sure I am hiding it,” she said. “I don’t know how I feel.”

“That’s understandable.”

“The little girl in me mourns the loss of the man who raised her, but the adult—the woman I’ve become—is having a harder time with all of this, and that makes me feel guilty.”

“You don’t have to feel guilty. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I sided with you. My father saw that as a betrayal. I don’t blame him for that, but I do blame him for so many other things. It didn’t have to be this way between us.”

She sucked in a breath and shut her eyes, holding back her tears, like she had done so many times over these past few days. Anytime she got emotional, she shut down. I admired her strength, but I wasn’t sure how healthy it was.

“You can let this all out.” I motioned around the room. “Throwing shit, punching walls, and breaking stuff helps me when I’m angry.”

“I’ve noticed.” She stood and straightened out her dress. “I’m not ready for that, but I’ll let you know when I am.”

“Lissia.” I followed her to the door. “You don’t have to be strong in front of me.”

“Yes, I do.” When she opened the door, Rosalie waited on the other side. “Ma, what are you doing?”

“Looking for you.” She clasped her daughter’s hand. “Is everything okay?”

“Would everyone please stop asking me that?” Lissia took a breath and let go of her mother’s hand. “I’m fine. I’ll be better when this is all over with.”

“Hmm…” Rosalie glanced at me. “I hope you’re taking good care of her.”

“Marchello has been amazing.” Lissia kissed me. “Please, don’t worry about me.”

“Are you telling me what to do?” I stroked her cheek. “You know I don’t like that.”

“And you know I don’t listen, so…” She turned to her mother. “Where are we with lunch?”

“It’s about to be served,” Rosalie said. “Ricardo is going to make an announcement that the buffet is ready in the dining room.”

“Let’s go then,” Lissia said as Milo joined us in the hallway.

“Hey.” Milo smiled at Lissia before looking at me.

“I know that look,” Lissia said. “You have something important to tell Marchello, which is usually my cue to leave you two alone.”

“You don’t have to leave,” Milo said.

“Yes, she does.” Rosalie patted Lissia’s back. “She has to eat before she passes out.”

“Go with your mother and make sure you eat.” I kissed her. “I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

“I love you,” she whispered into my ear.

“I love you too.”

Milo waited until Rosalie and Lissia were out of earshot before he spoke.

“How is Lissia holding up?” he asked.

“Better than expected, which bothers me.” I nodded at a group of associates in designer suits and freshly polished shoes as they made their way into the dining room. “Once I get her home, she’ll have a chance to process. There are so many people here. It’s overwhelming.”

“It’s about to get a little more overwhelming,” Milo said. “For all of us.”

“Why is that?”

“Dad just arrived.”

“Arrived where?”

“Here,” Milo said. “He’s in the foyer.”

Fuck!

“We haven’t heard from him in days. He’s been out of sight for months. Why would he choose now to make his reappearance?”

“We both know the answer to that.”

“He needs to solidify our position and make it known that the Accettis are still in control.”

“And what better place to do that than at the funeral luncheon of a man who tried to challenge us and ended up assassinated.”

“It’s fucking brilliant, but…”

How was I going to make Lissia understand that business was business, no matter whose funeral it was? If my father could attend the funeral of the man he shot in cold blood—my future father-in-law—then he would show that no one was safe if they went against us.

“This was a complication you weren’t expecting,” Milo said.

“Not at all.” I buttoned my jacket and straightened my tie as I hurried down the hallway and to the foyer.

“We have to trust he knows what he’s doing.” Milo followed me. “He always does.”

“I’m not disputing that.”

Entering the foyer, we found our imposing father holding court in his eight-thousand-dollar Armani suit that he reserved for funerals. He had turned Gian’s funeral luncheon into a makeshift press conference, except he was doing all the talking.

And when Nico Accetti spoke, people listened.

No one questioned where he had been or why he was back. They didn’t have to.

I had no doubts that those who had thought about aligning with Gian last month were silently praying that my father didn’t know who they were.

He did.

If my father could find use for them, he might spare them, but if they were of no value, orders would be carried out to remove them from whatever little power they held within the city. They would answer for their transgressions.

My father worked the room like a charismatic politician, corralling all his constituents as they hung on his every word. But unlike many politicians, my father would do what he promised.

Milo patted my back. “Well, it looks like the king is back to take the throne.”

A certain amount of relief ran through my veins at the thought of assuming my position as second-in-command. I had let my father down too many times in his absence. I still had a lot to learn.

My father made eye contact with me, and he dismissed his audience. He strode toward me and Milo. With each step, the more relaxed I became. I didn’t realize how much I had missed his presence until right now.

“Dad.” I stepped forward and accepted the hug and hard pat on my back.

“Marchello.” He held me for a few seconds before releasing me and doing the same to Milo. “I’ve missed you both so much.”

“Not as much as we’ve missed you.” Milo let go of him. “It’s good to have you back.”

“I wish it were under better circumstances.” He pressed his lips together as most of the guests filed down the hall to the dining room. “But Gian had to be stopped.”

“I didn’t expect you to come here today,” I said. “I should have though. You’re an Accetti.”

“Where else would I be?” He gazed down the hall. “You didn’t think I would take such drastic measures to regain control of our organization and then go back into hiding, did you? It was time for me to show my face. I’ve been away too long.”

“Milo and I got your silent message.”

We’d known immediately that the hit on Gian had been carried out by our father. He got his start as an enforcer and an assassin, and he always let the intended target see him coming. That was his signature.

“I knew you would.” He gripped my shoulder. “I’m impressed with how you’ve handled business the past few days. You didn’t hesitate in letting all the other families know we don’t tolerate infiltrators and hostile takeovers.”

“It isn’t that I’m not thrilled to see you, but given the circumstances, why are you here?” I nodded to the two men who walked past us. “If the other families know we’re back in control and this war between us and the Gallanti family is over, was it necessary for you to be here?”

“Chello?” Milo nudged me. “It’s a show of strength. A bold move.”

“Your brother knows that, Milo.” My father shot me a hard stare. “I think what he means is, given the delicate situation of his relationship with Gian’s daughter, is it really wise for me to be here?”

“I meant no disrespect, Dad,” I said, feeling incompetent. “It’s just that now might not be the best time.”

“It’s the perfect time.” My father looked over my shoulder. “I’m here to offer my condolences to your future bride.”

“Marchello.” Lissia joined us in the foyer, locking her gaze with my father’s. “Nico, you’re here.”

My pulse increased because this was not how I envisioned their initial meeting. The brutal assassin who took back control of his empire and the heartbroken, impulsive mafia princess who just buried her father.

What could possibly go wrong?