Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Micah
Power isn’t something that can be truly given to you.
Even when it’s handed to you on a plate, it still has to be earned. And you can only earn it when you make others bend the knee and acknowledge you as their leader.
That power inspires respect and the kind of loyalty where your men will follow you into death.
As the next don of the Delarosa empire, I’m sitting on my father’s right side at the long mahogany table in the meeting room. Around us are the most powerful men in the Delarosa famiglia along with the men who work for us.
My uncles Mario, Antonio, and Gio are at my father’s left. My cousins Brahm and Lorenzo, who are Mario and Antonio’s sons respectively, round out the circle, along with the eight senior managers who run the empire.
These are the men I will need to respect me when I take over the leadership.
We’re at the Grand Vittorio—named after my grandfather who started our empire in the US. This hotel is testament to his work because it’s one of the most prestigious in New York.
This is where we meet when we have important matters to discuss. Like the next line of leadership and all the changes that will follow for the family business when I take over.
It’s a subject that’s been in discussion for more than a year following my father’s retirement announcement.
The smell of cigars and whiskey clings to the air, mixing with the faint sound of laughter coming from somewhere outside the closed double doors. We don’t laugh in here. Not when my father, Don Giovani Delarosa, is delivering a speech on his expectations for the future of the empire.
At times like these he seems more god than man and so much more than just my papà. Even though I think of him as such .
We’ve been here for the last hour. This is the last meeting for the day.
My father wanted our minds clear of other business matters, so he waited until the end of the day to speak to us. I also think he purposely waited until today— Friday —to speak to us so we could have the weekend to reflect.
Tonight’s meeting feels like it carries more weight than any other. Although I won’t take over from my father for another five months, he speaks like he’s imparting his final pearls of wisdom to us.
“As the time draws closer to my departure, I need you all to tighten up the management of everything.” Papà’s voice cuts through the already tense air like a blade, sharp and deliberate.
He leans back in his chair, looking every inch the patriarch he is with his hair styled to perfection and his tailored Brioni suit fitting him like it was made to worship the ground he walks on.
People say I look more and more like him the older I get. I agree.
I could be the younger version of him. We have the same muscular build and height of six feet four. The same sharp hazel eyes. The same face structure, olive-toned skin, and even the same undercut hairstyle with the top spiky.
My father was also thirty-three when his father stepped down and he became the don of the family.
He continues talking about Delarosa Industries, our diamond mining company, and we hang on to every word spoken like it’s the law. But each of us has our own agenda.
My uncles listen with the same calculating stares as if they’re trying to see the secrets beyond my father’s words.
Lorenzo looks like he doesn’t miss anything because he wants to make sure he gets on the leadership.
Brahm is more like me. He’ll be doing what I usually do by taking note of what he deems important and discarding the rest.
I can’t do that tonight. With my impending assent to the leadership, I have to take note of everything . Even if I find these meetings tedious and tiresome.
My father and I may look similar, but we differ in leadership styles and our attitude toward life. He’s longwinded, whereas I’m straight to the point. Like a sharpshooter, I cut through the shit so I have time for other things. He doesn’t like that about me, nor my lackadaisical approach to life.
I don’t like most of his ways either but I respect him. I appreciate that we’ve been as successful as we are because of those ways.
I also won’t be foolish enough to defy him at a time when I know I’m being watched and scrutinized as the man who will fill his shoes.
“You’ll all report to Micah starting next month for all matters to do with the company.” Papà’s voice is as commanding as always but I sense a note of sadness. Not for me, but because he’s going to miss being the don. He’ll be retiring and heading back to Italy with my mother to take care of other business but it won’t be the same. “By the summer, he’ll take over entirely.”
Everyone agrees, but no one speaks. Instead, they look at me. Some with loyalty. Others—like my uncles Mario and Gio—with resentment.
Positions are inherited in our family, so I was always going to take the lead, but I know they despise that.
Although they hold notable positions in the company and manage the finances and clientele, they hate that they’ll be my subordinates.
“I’ve spent the last thirty years ensuring we dominate the diamond trade, both in the mines and in the marketplace. I expect the same diligence from all of you. Especially you.” Papà makes a point of looking at me with those sharp eyes that never miss a beat.
Sometimes I wonder if he’d choose me if he had other options. He calls me his pride, but not a day goes by when we don’t bump heads.
I nod once and steeple my fingers in front of me as I lean back in my chair. “You have my word that I’ll give more than my best, Don Delarosa.” I call him that like everyone else out of respect.
He holds my gaze for a beat before the light of hope shines in his eyes, a sign he’s pleased with my answer. Good. At least he knows I mean what I say. He also knows that the only other person here who works as hard as him to build our empire is me.
Papà’s gaze sweeps back to the others. “This company will heavily rely on the rest of you as we diversify.”
“You don’t have to worry about that, brother,” Gio states proudly.
“I need you to work together,” Papà says, his tone accusatory. He knows working together is our biggest problem. Because we don’t.
“We will.”
“Good, because our plans to expand our reach to real estate and investments will take us to another level. A life beyond diamonds.”
That’s all thanks to me. Another thing my uncles are jealous of. A quick glance at their stern faces and steely stares confirms I’m right.
Years ago, I teamed up with my best friend, Jaxon Bortsov, to spread our wings in the investment market. We both became billionaires off the backs of our own businesses.
When my father saw how well we were doing, he wanted in. Especially because it levelled us up in power at the high table of the Creed.
The Creed is a council of twelve crime lords and their subordinates who pledged by the Blood Oath to live by a set of laws to share power and wealth. Those laws have bound them for over fifty years.
Our family have been members of the Creed since the Oath was made. We’re one of the two Italian families on the council and part of the highest-ranking members at the table. Members of our family, like Brahm, have also served on the Creed’s enforcement squad.
The Delarosa name has always been great, but I want to take us to the next level of success without setbacks and dissentions in my family, so I’m glad my father is laying the foundation with his expectations from now.
“Are there any questions?” He looks around at each of us.
“When will the rest of the leadership be chosen?” Mario asks. He wants the current position of underboss I hold.
Papà drums his fingers against the smooth wood of the table. “That is up to Micah.”
Once again, they all look at me.
“I’ll make the decision by the end of the month,” I inform them.
The only person who seems satisfied with my answer is Brahm. Because he’s the only person here who doesn’t want to be part of the leadership.
Until a few months ago, we thought he was dead. But he’s like the crow. A man back from the grave with a one-tracked mind for revenge.
Sadly, for me, he’s the guy I want to choose to be the underboss. He would be perfect for the position. Apart from working with me in the company, I trust him completely, but Brahm has other things on his mind.
“Very well, then.” Mario speaks in a stiff tone.
“If there’s nothing further to discuss, we can wrap things up for the evening.” Papà glances around the room.
“Nothing more from me,” I say, and everyone else agrees.
“Okay. I’ll see you all back at the office on Monday.” He dips his head, then looks at me. “Stay back. I want to talk to you.”
“Sure.” I quickly glance at Brahm, who looks at me.
I nod at him, letting him know I’ll catch up with him later. He leaves with the others, and I return my gaze to my father.
“What’s going on?” I know I shouldn’t ask that question when there’s enough shit happening for me to take my pick.
This conversation will most likely be about one of three things—more details on taking over the leadership, the recent hacking of our systems, or my least favorite subject— marriage .
There’s a high chance he could want to talk about marriage. He’s been talking my ear off about that all year because the don of the family must take a wife.
“Please tell me we’re not talking about marriage again.” I bite the inside of my lip.
“Unfortunately for you, we are.”
“Papà, please. We’ve been over this enough. I told you I’d find my own wife when the time comes.”
“The time has come.” He stares back at me under his bushy brows as the effect of his words lingers in the space between us with an ominous feeling I don’t like.
“We still have five months until I take over from you.”
“Yes. But that’s for the business. I want you married well before then, so I’m going to make sure that happens.”
I clench my jaw, hating the demand in his tone. “What the hell does that mean?”
“I think Eloise Francesco would make you a perfect wife.”
My chest tightens, and I grit my teeth. “Absolutely fucking not.”
Eloise Francesco is my cheating, lying, manipulative ex. The only reason why my father thinks she’s a good match is because her father, Luis, is his best friend.
Eloise may be the kind of girl who’s been trained her whole life to be a wife to a man like me, but she’s a viperous bitch who will fuck you over and fuck whoever she needs to, to get what she wants.
Our three-year relationship ended back in college when I found her fucking her college professor. Then I learned he wasn’t the only guy she was sleeping with.
“Micah—”
“No.” I shake my head and hold up my hand. “That’s not happening. How the fuck could you want me to be with her?”
My father knows the story. Everyone knows the story. And it didn’t come from me. Eloise was such a slut, everyone knew what she was up to, so when we broke up, no one was surprised.
“Luis assures me that she’s changed since college.”
“What about recently?” I give him a deadpan stare, wondering if his mind was on some other planet months ago when the scandal broke that Eloise was having an affair with Porter Dean, the new governor of New York. It was in the news for a whole month because she wrecked his twenty-year marriage and was thought to be pregnant with his child. The pregnancy was a lie, but it was also a clever ruse Eloise used to get her name out on social media and the tabloids.
“Luis insists Porter Dean was the one at fault, not Eloise.”
“Of course, he does.” Luis was always going to defend his daughter and Papà is quick to believe everything he says. “Papà, I won’t be associated with a woman like her.”
“Listen to me. You two make sense as a couple.” He lifts his chin as if asserting his dominance. “You two have known each other all your lives. You grew up together. She comes from a strong Italian family who know our ways and expectations. Her father is also our most senior investor, and his family are into mining and investments like ours. Leadership isn’t just about power. It’s about alliances. If you married Eloise, it would strengthen the empire we already have.”
I give him a narrow stare. “I can’t believe you can sit there telling me to marry someone who cheated on me when you and Ma got married because you loved each other.”
“I know Eloise has made grave mistakes that hurt you in the past, and I guess that’s why it’s taken you so long to find a wife.”
I want to disagree with him and tell him he’s wrong because Eloise and I broke up over a decade ago and I no longer care for her, but I’ve often found myself wondering the same thing—that I’ve been burned from her cheating.
I can’t deny that I fuck around with women I have no intention of seeing again, and the fact that I haven’t had a steady girlfriend since her seems testament to the possibility. I just don’t want to accept that anyone—especially her —could have such an effect on me.
“I can do better than Eloise.”
“People change, Micah. I believe you have to give them the chance to do so, especially when they’re close to you.”
“Not when it comes to marriage, so my answer is still no. And like I said before, I will find my own wife. I don’t need you to do it.”
He stares back at me, unblinking, allowing that annoying silence to crawl back in. He watches me carefully and I can just imagine all the things that are running through his mind.
“You have one week.” His voice takes on a chilling edge with a raw dose of finality to it.
“ What ?”
“You heard me. This is still my empire. I’m giving you one week to find a wife.” The sternness returns to his face. “You’ve had over a year to prepare for this, Micah. All you’ve done is fuck around. I can only assume you’re not taking this seriously enough.”
“That’s not true.”
“That’s exactly what it looks like from where I’m sitting, so I’m putting my foot down. If you fail to find a wife, I’m going with Eloise, and you two will be married by the end of the month.”
My eyes bulge. “The end of the month ?”
“Luis has someone else lined up for her if you say no.”
“I have said no.”
“Not by my watch. And if you fight me, you can take the lead on the family in name only, but I’ll put your uncles in charge of the company.”
My blood heats like lava, burning me up from the inside out. “You would seriously do that to me? I’m your heir. Your only son. Putting my uncles in charge of the company is as good as cutting me off.”
“This is not a personal attack, Micah.”
“It sure feels like one.” I’m not sure how he fails to see that.
“There is no one better than you to take over from me. I’d think that even if you weren’t my son and even if we didn’t live by our inheritance laws. But when you stop being suitable, we have a problem. The two things that are most important to me are family and power. Marrying Eloise ensures both. Unless you find someone else.”
“This is fucking insane.”
“Maybe so. But I want to make sure I leave my legacy the way I want it with a strong foundation.”
This is tying me up to beat me. Or rather making his last boss move by hitting me with the thing I care about most and binding me to follow his orders.
“Am I understood, Micah?” He gives me an arrogant smile and all I can do is stare back at him, hating what he’s done and the threat of losing everything to my uncles.
“Understood.”
Papà nods once and I can see he thinks he’s trapped me into doing what he wants, but there’s no way in fuck that I’m marrying Eloise or allowing my uncles to get control of the company.
“In other news, how is the situation with the hacking?”
Motherfucker. What a way to slip in a subject change. But that’s typical of him.
My father has perfected the art of not giving a fuck. I thought I was well versed in that art as well, but it turns out the old saying that everyone has a price applies to me, too.
There’s more I want to say with regards to this marriage trap, but maybe it’s best we don’t talk about it anymore. Papà thinks he’s thrown me a rope by giving me a week to figure my shit out. I have to take that as something and work with it.
At the very least, I have to come up with some form of plan.
“It’s under control,” I answer, trying to sound like he hasn’t rattled me. “Brahm and I have set a trap to see if we can find out who’s trying to get into our systems.”
Papà looks pleased to hear that Brahm is helping me. Brahm and I both studied computer science and engineering at college, so anything tech related is our area of expertise. I think he’s also hoping Brahm will join me on the leadership.
“Good. Any thoughts yet on what they could want?” His tone becomes pensive.
“We think they want the blueprints for the new digital financial system Jaxon and I designed.”
His skin pales, as expected, and I know he’s thinking the same thing I did when I realized what the hacker was after. That no one should know about our new system.
The system is a cutting edge blockchain-based software that will enable us to transfer money without it being tracked and traced. It’s perfect for the backhand work we do on the underground where we need to move money around without it being scanned by the government or anyone like that who may be sniffing around to find some illegal shit on us.
At the same time, it’s also the kind of thing that will attract attention from criminal organizations in the underground who will want to use it for the same things we do. And more.
Papà sits forward and presses his fingers into the table. “How did hackers know about something that’s supposed to be top secret?”
“ I’m trying to figure that out.”
“Do you think someone here is feeding them information?”
I nod with certainty. “The trail shows the hacker was undeniably looking for the blueprints. They could only know about it and where to find it if they were told. It wasn’t a random act.”
“Who do you think it is?”
I sigh and drop my shoulders. “I don’t know yet, but I will find out. At the moment, pretty much everyone who sat at the table tonight is a suspect. I guess except you and Brahm.”
His jaw tenses. “Find out who it is, Micah. You don’t want them to be one step ahead of us and end up using our own tech against us.”
“Oh, believe me, I’ve already thought of that. I’m staying the night, and I’m hoping they take the bait.” I nod and think of my sketchy plan. Sometimes, you need something vague to get a job done. You can’t always be precise, especially when you want to catch someone who’s trying to fuck with you. “I’ve saved the files to a chip and put it in a vault in the penthouse. I’m hoping someone will try to steal it.”
Papà straightens and cocks his head. “Then what?”
“Either I catch a thief, or they lead me to them.”
“Sounds simple.”
“Too old fashioned for you?” He’s used to going in for the kill and leaving no one alive. I like that method, too, but I’ve realized that I need more answers to solve this puzzle.
The ghost of a smile appears on his lips. “Nah. I trust you know what you’re doing.”
“I’m glad you trust me with some things.”
“Good. I’m glad you’re glad.” He returns my sarcasm. “We’re done here. Report back as soon as you know what’s going on.”
“Of course.”
“I’d hate for it to be anyone at the table.”
“Me too.” It would mean that one of our most trusted has turned against us. At the moment, I can’t even begin to narrow down suspects because there are no loose ends. Whoever it is was overly careful not to leave a trail that led to anyone. “Hopefully, I’ll know more tomorrow.”
I stand and straighten out my jacket.
“And, Micah?”
“Yeah?”
“Remember, you have one week to find a woman you can marry. I won’t give you any more time.”
I don’t answer. Instead, I cut him a hard stare and leave.
The tension loosens from my shoulders as soon as I’m out the door and walking down the hallway.
I gaze through the glass wall to my left and take in the array of city lights. I usually like staying here, and I do so often because it feels like a home away from home. This hotel was one of the first businesses my family started when they moved here from Sicily over a hundred years ago.
Vittorio means victor or conqueror . It felt fitting for our family ethos. It’s always felt fitting for me. I just feel like shit at the moment.
The only thing I should be worried about tonight is keeping my eyes open for a potential theft. Yet here I am, worrying about finding a wife.
And I have one fucking week.
Seven days.
Fuck, I need a drink. Something strong to take my mind off this shit. Then I’ll take one step at a time. Get through this weekend first and make a list of all the potential women I know on Monday.
With that plan in mind, I head to the hotel bar. When I step through the double doors, I grab a cigar from my pocket, light up, and walk over to the balcony to scan the floor below where the bar is set up.
The place is alive with people out for the night, dressed to attract and impress.
I take a drag and exhale a slow stream of smoke while I check to see if Brahm is here. Chances are he left because I was talking to my father for quite a while.
I can’t see him anywhere, so maybe he’s gone.
My gaze drifts to the bar. Then I see her . A raven-haired goddess sitting by herself at the far corner sipping on a cocktail.
For a moment, the world stills. My grip on the cigar tightens, the smoldering end forgotten as my attention locks onto the beauty.
Unlike everyone else who looks like they’re here for a good time, she looks like the weight of the world is on her shoulders.
And my, what lovely shoulders she has.
The little red skater dress she’s wearing shows off sun-kissed skin and fits her like a second skin. It’s like sin incarnate, dipping low enough to tease but not reveal, and her long legs, crossed at the knees, look like they were made to wrap around a man’s waist.
My waist.
Her lips press against the rim of her glass, soft and pink, and I can’t decide if I want to ruin her or worship her. Maybe both.
Her eyes flick toward the balcony and for a second, I think she’s caught me staring. But no. She’s too lost in her head to notice me.
She sips on her drink like she’s trying to drown something and I lean against the railing as I continue my assessment of her.
When she finishes her drink she orders another from the bartender, giving him a movie star smile and I can admit I’m jealous.
Of course, he’s drinking in her beauty, scanning over her face and her body in the same ways I am and all the other men around us who are watching her.
Those bastards are probably thinking up all sorts of ideas on how they can get her to themselves. And the beauty is completely unaware.
With another smile, she thanks the bartender, and the moment he leaves, she returns to her former state of unease.
Something’s eating at her.
What is it? Fear? Guilt? The question hooks into me as if I don’t have my own problems.
I take another drag of the cigar, the smoke coiling around me like a shield, adding to the heat coursing through my veins.
What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, bellezza?
The thought pushes ideas into my mind I shouldn’t have.
I should get that drink I came for then get my ass out of here, but this girl has my attention.
The bartender returns to her and I feel jealous again, then I have a really bad idea, one that my father would frown upon if he knew what I was thinking.
I don’t care. I need a fucking break. I work damn hard, so I deserve one, and I’ve decided I’m spending it with the beauty at the bar.
Why let the bartender have all the fun? This is my hotel.
But if she likes bartenders, I’ll play the part and put aside the mafia boss.
Tonight, this girl is mine.