Chapter Nineteen
Lorenzo
We enter the boardroom and take our seats.
I don’t hesitate. I claim the head of the table. Andres settles to my right, Lev to my left, exactly where they belong. Luciano pauses for half a second, surprise flickering across his face. He clearly expected me to sit somewhere lower. Somewhere obedient.
He’s forgetting something.
I’ve been a stray since I was eighteen. No leash. No master. And no fucking capo tells me where to sit.
My urge to kill him sharpens, a low hum beneath my skin. The desire to snap his neck grows louder with every breath he takes, but my plan is finally coming into focus. I need information first. Discipline. Control.
Luciano takes a seat two chairs away from Lev, his guards lining up behind him like a cheap security detail. A clown with bodyguards. His daughter sits beside him, stiff and distant. Dante chooses the chair next to Andres, on my right.
Luciano notices.
So does everyone else.
Dante doesn’t say a word, but the message is clear: he’s here with me. Underboss or not, the Moretti name still carries weight in Cosa Nostra. And Dante has as many connections as Luciano ever did.
“Let’s get started,” Luciano says, forcing confidence.
His daughter looks like she’d rather stab him than listen.
“Speak,” I tell him.
The irritation flashes across his face. Good. His daughter’s eyes widen, she didn’t expect that tone. I almost enjoy the shock.
“Since you agreed to this meeting,” Luciano begins carefully, “and I still have my head intact—”
“For now,” I cut in, smiling.
He presses his lips together and continues. “I believe you’ve decided to move forward with the wedding.”
I need to play the charade. Buy time.
“I’m considering it,” I say calmly. “But first, I need answers.”
His brows lift. “Such as?”
I pull a cigarette from my pocket and light it deliberately. I quit smoking when I moved into Serena’s place, didn’t need it. Didn’t want it. The only thing I ever want filling my lungs is vanilla.
But disrespect has its uses.
Smoke curls through the air.
“I’m curious why you’re so invested in marrying me to your daughter,” I say, exhaling slowly. “I know I’m an excellent match.” A small smirk. “But threatening my family, kidnapping Serena while she was pregnant, that’s a lot of effort.”
I blow smoke straight into his face instead of slamming his head into the table.
His daughter goes pale. “Pregnant?” she asks, turning sharply to him.
“Silence,” Luciano snaps.
“Are you planning to marry me to a man with a pregnant girlfriend?” she demands, horrified.
Luciano raises his hand, ready to strike.
I clear my throat.
He freezes.
“I said be silent,” he hisses at her instead. She obeys.
Then he turns back to me and softens his voice like a man pretending to be civilized. “I respect you, Lorenzo. I believe you’d be a strong husband for my beautiful daughter.”
The word husband makes my stomach turn.
“That might sound believable,” I say evenly. “But every man in this room is respectable.”
“And devastatingly attractive,” Lev mutters. “We try to tone it down in public.”
“Why me?” I press.
Luciano shifts. Just slightly.
Nervous.
“I want an alliance between Cosa Nostra and Bratva,” he says.
There it is. The lie.
I take another drag. “I’m not Bratva,” I remind him calmly. “I work with them, yes. But I’m not part of The Three.”
His jaw tightens.
“I approached Ice. He refused. So I decided you were the next best option.”
“I’m wounded,” Andres says dryly.
“Same,” Lev sighs dramatically. “I’m part of The Three, which means I should’ve at least received a proposal memo.” He looks at Aurora with mock sincerity. “And before rumors start, darling, I am not expecting a child with anyone. I can barely keep a plant alive.”
She looks like she wants to crawl under the table.
Luciano stays quiet, calculating.
“Maybe he crossed you off the list because you’re not the smartest man in the room,” Andres tells Lev.
Lev smirks. “Not the smartest, sure. But definitely the proud owner of the biggest cock present.”
Aurora turns green.
I laugh.
“Honestly,” I add with a shrug, “we measure. Quick. Scientific. Winner takes the bride.” I look at Luciano. “Or would you prefer a coin toss?”
“Agreed,” Andres says instantly.
“May the biggest cock win,” Lev grins. “Gentlemen, this is what peak competition looks like.”
Luciano slams his hand on the table. “Enough. This nonsense ends now.”
I smile.
Because it hasn’t even started yet.
“Tell me why,” I hiss, leaning forward just enough to make it clear this isn’t a request. “Why go through all this trouble. Why me?”
Luciano exhales sharply. “Because you’re Italian.”
I lean back, unimpressed, lighting another cigarette. “Bratva is Russian,” I remind him calmly. “It would be far more beneficial for you to marry her to Lev.” I glance sideways. “Is he really that bad-looking?”
“Fuck off, Lorenzo,” Lev laughs.
Luciano’s patience snaps. I see it in the way his jaw tightens, in the way his hand clenches against the table.
“I want you.”
I smirk. “Why?”
“Should I remind you,” he says coldly, “that your family is at my mercy?” His voice sharpens. “You will do as I say.”
I take a slow sip of my whiskey. “Ah,” I murmur, amused, “you mean those men stationed outside our house in Florence?”
Andres slides his phone toward me.
Luciano’s face drains of colour as I turn the screen toward him.
Photos. One after another. His guards, hidden, armed, confident, now sprawled across the ground with bullets through their heads. Clean. Efficient. Final. Then the video plays.
My men, laughing, kicking a severed head across the courtyard like a football.
Luciano’s hands start to shake.
Aurora sees it too.
She goes rigid, breath hitching, eyes glassy with terror.
Good.
“You’re making a mistake,” Luciano whispers.
“Am I?” I ask lightly, leaning back, smoke curling from my lips. “Because it feels like I’m correcting one.”
He swallows hard. “You’ll answer to Cosa Nostra for this. Dante is the underboss. He turned his back on us, he’ll pay with his head.”
I smile slowly.
“And yet,” Luciano continues desperately, “if you marry my daughter, I might consider forgiving your actions.”
He says it like it’s leverage.
Like he still has power.
“I might consider it,” I lie smoothly. “If you tell me who you worked with.”
The room stills.
My gaze sharpens, deadly. This isn’t a game anymore. I know Luciano didn’t act alone. That anonymous text that led me to Serena, that wasn’t coincidence. Someone else helped. Someone else knew.
And that someone might want Serena hurt.
That thought makes my blood run cold.
Luciano has earned his place on my list. But first, I need answers.
And I will carve them out of him if I have to.
His face drains of colour.
“What?”
There it is.
The confirmation I was waiting for.
The bastard didn’t have the balls to do it alone. I knew it. That’s why I never considered him a real threat, and why his actions surprised me. He wasn’t the brain. Just the mouthpiece.
“You heard me,” I say, my face blank.
He hesitates, calculating. And in that pause, my theory locks into place. He worked with someone. He’s being pushed by Cosa Nostra to marry his daughter to me. The why is still missing, but I don’t need it tonight.
I won.
I just won quietly.
“I didn’t work with anyone,” he says at last, forcing steadiness into his voice. “And enough of this nonsense, Lorenzo.” He straightens. “Because I kidnapped your pregnant woman, I am willing to let you keep her.”
Aurora looks at him like he just slapped her.
“You may keep Serena,” Luciano continues, magnanimous, as if granting charity. “A mistress is expected. But the children—”
I stop listening.
Something cold coils in my chest. Feral. Ancient. My hands clench under the table. I breathe slowly, my mother taught me that breathing keeps monsters asleep.
“The children will not bear your name,” Luciano finishes. “They will not exist publicly.”
I see red.
Not metaphorically. Literally.
“You say her name too easily,” I tell him softly. “Careful.”
Luciano lifts an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”
“No,” I reply calmly. “It’s a warning.”
Aurora laughs then, sharp, bitter, unpolished.
“So she gets hidden,” she says. “And I get paraded. How poetic.”
I nearly reach for my gun.
Luciano snaps. “You shut the fuck up, Aurora.”
She does.
“Take the deal, Lorenzo,” he says, pressing. “I’m your capo. You will work for me. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
I can still buy time. I need the name. I need the motive. I already have a theory, one Dante will confirm for me, but I won’t tip my hand yet.
“I’ll tell you what,” I say evenly. “We schedule another meeting. You tell me who you worked with. And if the answer satisfies me, I’ll consider marrying your daughter.”
A lie.
But a useful one.
Luciano studies me. “I don’t trust you. A name for a marriage feels. . . insufficient for a man like you.”
There it is again.
Confirmation.
“You know how I feel about revenge,” I say with a thin smile. “Tell me who was behind Serena’s kidnapping, and I’ll spare you. I’ll even return the favor.”
Another lie.
He’ll die too.
“Very well,” Luciano says. “I’ll think about it. We’ll discuss it at our next meeting.”
“Looking forward to it,” I reply.
And I mean it.
Luciano leaves, without his daughter.
Idiot.
Lev and Andres grin, blowing her mocking kisses. Children. Useful, loyal, dangerous children.
I enjoy watching the Bianchi family squirm, but Aurora is different. She might be more than collateral. She might be leverage.
As she turns to follow him, I catch her wrist. She stiffens.
I hand her my card. My private business number.
Confusion flickers across her face. Fear. Calculation.
“I think we can help each other,” I say quietly.
She hesitates, then takes it.
Good.
Today wasn’t just successful.
It was surgical.