Chapter 59 MARCELLO
A few days later…
Just like I hoped, Violet has taken to the project like a bee to a flower.
I'm starting to regret my present. I hardly see her or my helicopter.
Looks like I might have to buy a second.
But when she comes home in the afternoon, she looks so happy, I can't begrudge her time away from me.
Instead, I try to make time to fly out—whenever I do get my chopper—to her project and meet her for lunch.
After the first couple of days, she worriedly asked me, "What if I fall in love with the house?"
I laughed and said, "If you do, it'll be a perfect place to raise a family.
" I meant it, too. As much as I love the city and never thought I would want to leave it, I love the idea of moving out of it to raise a family.
Kids should have a garden, a pool, trees, and a lake.
"We'll just find you a new project," I promised.
I told her that she was the one who had given me the idea of laundering money through renovating old malls, hospitals, and hotels —very lucrative projects —and that she would bring more money into the family than she could ever spend on her business. She looked dubious, but it's true.
And it's the reason I'm on my way now to meet with Toni. Well, that and the little issue we have to clarify. The thing Donna Margarita told me before Enzo did the honors and threw her overboard.
Toni doesn't know it yet, but his honesty will determine whether he walks out of this meeting alive or not.
I haven't shed a tear over my brother. I wouldn't have even if it had been Toni who pulled the trigger, but if we want to overthrow Edoardo, we need to know that we can trust each other.
I won't be able to trust a man who won't tell me to my face what he did.
I haven't told Violet about this part of our meeting. I have a feeling she would have tried to talk me out of it. Not because she's soft, but because she still believes some things are fixable.
This?
This is not something you fix.
This is something you end.
And I don't want to start our marriage pissed off at her. So, I keep it quiet. After this little errand, we're headed to Vegas. She'll be my wife by the end of the weekend. That's the part I care about.
Toni walks into my office on the thirty-sixth floor. I specifically chose one of the lower levels for this meeting. No drop-ins. No Violet. I don't need her walking in if this conversation turns dark.
"I heard congratulations are in order," he says coolly, reaching for my hand.
"You'll be there?" I check, shaking his hand and keeping my poker face up.
"You can count on it. Scarlet has been shopping for a dress and a gift nonstop.
" He replies, taking a seat on one of the couches, looking at ease.
It's deceptive, though. None of us is ever at ease with one another.
We might be more at ease, but never without our guard down.
You never know where a bullet might come from in our world.
"Blue Label?" I ask, holding up the bottle.
"That works," Toni agrees, and I fill our glasses, bringing them over to him before taking a seat across in one of the leather chairs.
"I asked you over because money laundering falls into your expertise, and I didn't want to step on any toes.
" He raises an eyebrow in question, and I explain.
"Violet gave me an idea. Buying and remodeling large, abandoned properties—hospitals, malls, hotels—then flipping or leasing them.
It requires large amounts of cash movement.
Everything will be on the books. Taxes paid. Clean everything."
He leans forward, interested. "Smart. The scale makes it legit. And the renovation contracts keep the cash moving."
"I thought so." I raise my glass, and we drink in silence for a moment.
"That's not all, though, is it? You could have told me that over the phone," Toni picks up perceptively.
"Donna Margarita won't be a problem for us any longer," I tell him flatly.
"Good."
"She had something to say before she… stepped down." I keep my eyes trained on him. His calm facade is just that.
He doesn't ask what she said. He waits for me to continue. "She said my brother didn't die because of an accident. She said it was the Russians who killed him. Grigori Arsenyev."
Toni's expression doesn't change. Not much. But his hand tightens on his knee. A small twitch in his neck betrays him. I've seen that before—right before he puts a bullet in someone's head.
"I see," he says, putting the glass on the table next to him, straightening his tie. "Then you also know that it was me who helped make it look like an accident?"
I nod, draining my glass.
He nods back. "So what are you going to do?"
I meet his gaze. Hard. No games. He came clean right away. "Nothing. We have bigger goals. My brother was a piece of shit. If anything, his death was a favor."
I might not have seen it that way when I was first summoned back to the States, but if I hadn't been forced back here, I would have never met Violet. After meeting her, I cannot imagine a life without her in it. And in some fucked up way, I owe that to Toni, so yeah, we're good.
He watches me carefully, like he's still weighing how far my loyalty stretches. I watch him back, calculating the same, not allowing him to see where my mind has drifted.
What I appreciate most is what he doesn't say. He's not making any excuses. No justifications. No groveling about Grigori or how complicated things were. Toni's the kind of man who keeps his mouth shut when it counts—and that's exactly the kind of man I need on my side.
"What else did she say?" Toni wants to know.
"That Raffael is her and Don Leonardo's illegitimate child."
He wasn't rattled when he told me about Angelo, I note.
But this? This shakes him. And for good reason.
Because if Raffael is Leonardo's bastard…
he's not just a ghost from Margarita's past, he's a threat to all of us.
He's not as crude as Roberto, not as short-sighted as Edoardo, and if he's inherited even a fraction of Margarita's cunning or Leonardo's cold ambition… then he's playing a very long game.
The kind of game that doesn't end in blood, but in crowns.
"Now what?" Toni asks, eyeing me carefully. He knows about Sophia and Raffael. He's asking about my allegiances.
"We need to find out where exactly he stands, what kind of man he is," I clarify. "I'm not standing by watching my sister get hurt again."
Toni nods slowly, but he's still reading me, trying to measure how far I'm willing to go. Whether blood outweighs logic.
"If he's loyal, we keep him close," I continue. "Use what he knows, what he's built. But if he's playing us…"
I trail off, letting the implication hang heavy between us. If he's playing us, he won't be the first man I've buried who shared my table.
"I'll deal with him," I finish coldly. "Leonardo's blood doesn't buy him immunity. And Margarita's legacy sure as hell doesn't earn him trust."
Toni's mouth twitches, half approval, half warning.
"Careful," he says. "Sophia's not going to let you make that call easily."
"She won't have to," I lie.
Because if it comes down to protecting her or protecting him… there is no decision to make.
I'll choose my sister every damn time.
"Alright, let's set another meeting with Stephano and Enrico. I think we also need to dig deeper into the Venezuelan connection—especially Edoardo—and then call a full family sit-down. Push for a voto di sfiducia," I suggest.
After the failed assassination attempt, my father's trial, and his death, I haven't had time to look as deeply into the Venezuelans and their ties to Edoardo as I promised I would.
"There's definitely something there," Toni says, pulling out his phone.
He taps through a few screens and holds it out to me.
"Here—and here," he points to two wire transfers on separate accounts.
Then swipes to another image. "Same amount.
Same day. Same time. This one landed in the account of Yesenia Montilla—Matías Rivera's cousin's sister-in-law. "
I raise my eyebrows, impressed. "That took some digging."
He nods. "Our new guy—Como Strosso—he's been burning through Alfonzo's records day and night."
Alfonzo was our accountant before he was killed a few weeks ago.
"Guess his death turned out to be a blessing in disguise," I mutter.
"Depends on who you ask," Toni replies. "But yeah. You see the dates?"
I squint, then whistle low. "Well, fuck."
"Yep." He gives a grim nod. "Looks like Alfonzo paid for his own kidnapping."
The transfer happened two days before Alfonzo and his wife were taken.
"But why would Edoardo want our accountant kidnapped?" I ask. "He's the Don—he already has access to the books."
"Not these books," Toni corrects. "I've got them encrypted. Olaf Peter, for example? That's you. And Orsina BioSolutions? That's Kartoffel Inc."
Orsina BioSolutions is the little company I started back in Sicily.
Quiet and clean. Over time, I took control of nearly every major API supplier on the continent.
Think of APIs—Active Pharmaceutical Ingredients—as flour.
No flour, no cake. Without me, the big pharma companies don't get to bake anything.
It's cleaner than my father's extortion rackets. Smarter. Twenty-first-century criminal enterprise. I'm making billions off that—and that's just the icing. The cake's got so many layers that most people can't even see it.
Now, Toni's point is coming into focus. As our money launderer, Toni controls the financials, the bookkeepers, and the accountants.
Alfonzo's death nearly cost him his life.
Technically, Edoardo has the right to inspect our records—but with Toni's encryption, he never knows who owns what.
It's the perfect safety net. Keeps Edoardo from overreaching, and keeps us from double-dealing each other.
"So why would Edoardo want access beyond the numbers?" I ask.
"That's the million-dollar question," Toni replies. "He doesn't need to know BioSolutions is Kartoffel Inc., just that the numbers are right and taxes are paid. That's the whole system."
"So he had Alfonzo and his wife kidnapped and tortured… for information Alfonzo didn't even have," I say.
"Looks that way."
We exchange a dark look, whatever Edoardo's really after… it can't be good.
"I'm still digging, but I think the meeting and vote should be done soon. I don't know if he planned any of this with Donna Margarita or if she had any details…" Toni drifts off.
I shake my head. "Some of the things we thought Edoardo was behind weren't him at all, but Donna Margarita. Whatever Edoardo is plotting now, I don't think Margarita knew anything about it. He outmaneuvered her when she trapped him into marrying her daughter, and she tried to regain control."
"Alright." Toni rises. "We can talk about it more with Enrico and Stephano this weekend and go over what we have, then set up a formal meeting after your wedding to hash out the details." He hesitates, then holds out his hand. "We good?"
"We're good." I take his hand and shake it. I decide to hold no grudge against him for his involvement in Angelo's death. I probably should, but this isn't the old mafia anymore. New generations are emerging, and we can't hold on to the same old shit our parents did.
"See you in Vegas." Toni grins.
"I got a poker room booked for the bachelor party." I grin back.
"Your best man is supposed to arrange that," he chides.
"Yeah, well, I wasn't sure if I was going to have to kill my best man tonight or not, so I did it myself."
Toni breaks out into loud laughter. "I'd love to see you try." When he sobers, he looks at me. "So, you want me to be your best man?"
I shrug, "If you're not too busy. Someone has to do the job." I could have asked Luciano, but this feels right.
"Count me in." He nods at me, then leaves me alone in the office. I walk over to the large window and stare out at the city below. The view from here is not as impressive as the view from my penthouse, but it's still fascinating.
I pour myself another Blue Label and sip it, letting the silence settle for a moment. Toni's laughter still echoes faintly in my ears, but it's gone now, just like the tension between us. I didn't know if this meeting would end with a handshake or a gunshot. Both were on the table.
But somehow, this world keeps changing. And so do we.
I glance up at the floors above me. Violet is up there.
My fiancée. Waiting for me. A smile tugs at the corners of my lips.
The woman who walked into my life with no idea what she was stepping into—and somehow managed to upend everything I thought I knew about loyalty, softness, and even the idea of home.
She's been a nurse, a protector, a pain in my ass, and the only woman who ever dared to tell me no and make me like it.
Christ, I didn't even believe in love before her—my family made sure of that. But Violet made me recognize that what I felt for her was love. She made me feel. That's what's terrifying about her.
That's why I'm marrying her.
Not because it's convenient. Not because of a deal. Not even to protect her. Because I want to belong to her just as much as I want her to belong to me.
I down the rest of the Blue Label, set the glass on the edge of the table, and turn toward the elevator.
It's late, and she's probably curled up in bed reading some dusty restoration journal or watching one of those shows where they gut old buildings and turn them into art.
But the moment I walk through that door, she'll look at me like I'm everything.
My heart will stop before it starts to beat erratically, pumping blood into my dick.
This weekend, she will say yes and become mine forever. And I can't fucking wait for it. Whatever comes next, she'll be at my side, protected and safe, making me stronger than I ever was, because finally, I've found something worth fighting for.