Chapter 5
MARCO
The updated reports on my desk are troubling.
Security breaches at two of Antonio's warehouses. Shipments tampered with.
Someone's systematically probing his defenses, looking for weak spots.
All that along with our last La Corona meeting involving Gabriella's accusations.
She thinks I’m the threat when I’m busting my ass to protect her father.
The irony burns.
Of all the complications in this mess, Gabriella Monti might be the most dangerous.
She’s definitely the most annoying.
"Fuck.” I grind the heels of my hands into my eyes, rubbing away fatigue and frustration.
She's too smart for her own good.
Law degree. Business acumen.
And now she's inserting herself deeper into Antonio's operations with that righteous fire in her eyes.
The same fire I saw when she was beneath me, above me—
I cut that thought off before it can fully form.
The reports I’m getting suggest she's been reviewing security protocols, meeting with captains, asking questions.
Playing detective thinking I'm the villain. Under different circumstances, I’d admire her tenacity.
My phone buzzes.
A text from one of my men stationed near Antonio's main office: G.M. meeting with Bianchi now.
Gabriella is meeting with Bianchi, Antonio's head of security. The same one I suspect might be compromised.
Fucking hell. If she keeps digging, she'll either expose herself to the real threat or unwittingly undermine the protections I've put in place.
Either way, she's painting a target on her back.
On her father's back.
The woman has become a thorn in my side, one I’d like to extract.
I think back to the meeting the other day, recalling the tension in the room after we'd finally removed Gabriella from the meeting.
The other Dons knew something was up.
"What was that about, Antonio?" Dominic had asked, youngest of the council but as sharp and deadly as the rest of us. “I’m having a sense of déjà vu. Another daughter accusing Marco of something.”
I'd watched Antonio straighten his shoulders, summoning the commanding presence that had once come naturally. "My daughter is passionate about our family business. Sometimes overly so."
“You indulge her free spirit too much, Antonio. She needs to learn her place,” Leo Ferraza stated, which was rich coming from him.
Last year, his daughter, Isabella, accused me of killing her mother.
I'd stepped in smoothly. "She’s not our concern.” I redirected the meeting away from Gabriella, and more importantly, away from Antonio and my agreement with him.
But I'm not naive enough to think the matter is closed.
Antonio and I are keeping important information from the rest of La Corona, a betrayal of our vows.
But Antonio isn’t ready to admit his growing mental decline.
Hell, he only admitted it to me when I confronted him.
But it won’t be long before Dominic and Leo notice.
Antonio deserves his dignity, but La Corona functions on absolute trust.
If Dominic and Leo discover the truth, that we've hidden Antonio's condition while making decisions that affect all our families, they’ll see it as the ultimate betrayal.
The deal was I’d help out and keep the secret until Antonio’s son Luca returned to take the reins.
Except Luca shows no desire to return to the United States or to take the reins.
And now with Gabriella stirring the pot, convinced I'm the enemy, this is quickly turning into a shitshow.
I review the intel reports my captains have gathered on Gabriella's movements.
The picture they paint is both impressive and infuriating.
She's managed to integrate herself into Antonio's operation with surprising efficiency, sitting in on meetings, reviewing ledgers, questioning everything.
In our world, women are kept separate from business matters, yet somehow, she's wormed her way in.
My guess is they don’t like it but don’t press it because of Antonio. They know, as we all do, that Gabriella is the apple of Antonio’s eye.
It's sexist to think, but if she were a man, she’d be perfect to pick up the reins of Antonio’s business.
But while Antonio and apparently his men are open to her leadership role, no one else would acknowledge her.
I think of Antonio's failing mind, how his moments of confusion are growing.
Is he aware of Gabriella’s actions? Is he encouraging it?
A new text comes in. She’s asking questions about recent breeches.
She’s getting closer to discovering there's a problem but still fixated on the wrong source.
I’m sure her focus is proving I’m a part of Antonio’s problems.
She’s becoming more dangerous by the day.
Not just to my plans to protect Antonio, but to herself. The deeper she digs, the closer she gets to the real threat.
A threat I still haven’t identified.
Roman appears in my doorway without knocking, his expression tighter than usual.
He closes the door behind him.
“I suppose you know Gabriella Monti has insinuated herself into the business?”
I nod.
“Do you know she’s demanding access to everything? Shipping manifests, client lists, profit margins. The whole operation." He makes himself comfortable in a chair.
I try to act cool even though underneath, I’m seething that Gabriella is wreaking havoc in my life. “I don’t remember asking you to deal with her.”
Roman’s eyes flash with annoyance, but it’s quickly gone. “It’s my job to know what’s going on. I don’t have to follow her to know she’s poking around. She’s not subtle.”
No, subtle isn’t a word anyone would associate with Gabriella.
"His men should shut this down."
Roman shakes his head. "They respect her. She's smart, efficient, and they've watched her grow up. Plus, she has Antonio's authority, explicit or not."
A sick thought comes to me. “Any chance she’s the one working against us? Maybe she sent that shit to the FBI.” I can’t imagine her working with Salvatore, but someone is trying to ruin La Corona.
Roman shrugs. “She's specifically examining all transactions between Monti and Calabresi holdings.”
"Of course she is." My anger rises.
“But that would be normal if she thought you were undermining her father.” His eyes narrow as if he wants to study me. “Maybe this situation calls for a different approach."
"What method?"
His mouth quirks. "You seemed to have her distracted in your office last week.”
Heat flashes through me, rage, not embarrassment. "Careful, Roman."
"Just saying. She didn’t look like she wanted to ruin you when you were nearly in a lip lock with her.”
"That wasn't strategy."
Roman's eyebrows rise slightly. "No? Then what was it?"
I don't answer. Won't answer.
"Look," he continues, unfazed by my glare, "I don't care if it was business or pleasure. But right now, she's a problem that needs handling. If seduction could work—"
"We're done discussing this." My voice leaves no room for argument. "I’m not going to fuck Gabriella Monti. You know that would make things worse.”
“Not if you married her—”
“Fucking hell, Roman, not this again—”
"You. Gabriella. A wedding. Problem solved. Antonio respects you. The families would be united. She'd be under your control instead of working against you."
"Have you lost your fucking mind?" The words escape through clenched teeth. "Marriage isn't a solution. It's a prison sentence."
"Such a drama queen." Roman rolls his eyes. "You've been alone too long."
"I prefer it that way.” I rise from my desk to get a drink when a vision of Gabriella standing by my side, as my wife, flashes in my mind. I need to burn that image away. “We've had this conversation before."
“And we’ll have it again. I know your thoughts on the matter, but you’re not your father."
The mention of my father brings unwanted memories.
His thunderous voice, my mother's hollow eyes.
The sickening crack of bone against wall.
Her silent tears at the dinner table while he charmed guests with stories of their perfect life.
"I won't do it," I say firmly. "Not to her. Not to anyone." I sip the amber liquid though I really want to down it and pour another.
"This isn't just about your childhood demons, Marco." Roman leans forward. "It's strategy. The Monti alliance strengthened. Her investigation stopped. Antonio's condition remains protected. His business secured."
"No." I return to my desk.
“It’s the fastest and easiest way to neutralize her. As a wife—"
“A wife would expect things I can't give." I cut him off. "Emotional availability. Vulnerability. A family."
"So give her what you can. Power. Protection. Position." He shrugs. "Many marriages in our world function on less."
"I'm not built for domesticity, Roman. I can't be what a woman like Gabriella deserves."
He tilts his head. “This isn’t about what she deserves. This is about protecting the family, ours and Antonio’s.”
I scoff. “You think I’ll be able to control her any more than Antonio can?”
He studies me for a long moment, and it makes me uncomfortable. Like he can see the truth. “That would be the point.”
I shake my head. “I know you’re happy with your new wife and family, but leave me the fuck out of your delusions of happily ever after.”
He lets out a sigh of resignation. "As you wish."
I reach for the stack of reports on my desk. "Now, what's the status on the Brighton warehouse? Vitale's people were supposed to deliver the equipment two days ago."
Roman allows the subject change. "Delayed. Customs issues at the port. Dominic's handling it personally."
I focus on the paperwork, on shipments and territories and profit margins.
Numbers don't lie.
Numbers are safe.
Numbers don't make me feel things I've spent a lifetime avoiding.
"The casino renovations are behind schedule," I say, flipping through documents. "We need to push the contractors."
Work. Business. Power.
These are things I understand. These are things I can control.
Not the memory of her body against mine.
Not the ridiculous, impossible idea Roman planted about marriage.
The suggestion pisses me off not because it's dishonorable, but because for one treacherous moment, I considered it.
Marrying Gabriella.
But it’s impossible.
Gabriella Monti is the one weakness I can't afford and the one I can't seem to eliminate.
There must be a solution, a way to remove her from the equation without raising suspicion.
Italy. Luca's current domain. Far from here, far from danger, far from me.
Antonio could send her to assist Luca, claiming he needs her legal expertise for some international expansion.
It would seem natural enough, a father utilizing his daughter's education for family benefit. No one would question it.
Except Gabriella herself.
I almost smile, imagining her reaction. She'd see through it immediately.
She'd refuse, dig in her heels, become even more determined to protect her father from whatever threat she imagines I pose.
Would Antonio force the issue?
I doubt it.
His indulgence of her has always been his weakness.
He's given her more freedom than any Don's daughter in our history.
He wouldn't suddenly reverse course, not even at my suggestion.
No, Antonio won't be my solution here.
The truth is, I don't want her gone. Not really.
Despite the complications, despite the danger, despite everything, I want her where I can see her.
Where I can protect her, even from herself.
Later that night, I drag myself to bed, bone-tired but knowing sleep will be elusive.
The sheets are cool against my skin as I stare at the ceiling, my mind still filled with strategies, contingencies, and the constant, maddening presence of Gabriella Monti.
Surprisingly, sleep comes easily. The darkness pulls me under, and suddenly, she's there.
Gabriella. Not the business-suited adversary, but the woman from last Christmas.
Hair loose around her shoulders.
Eyes bright with challenge and desire.
That half-smile that always made me feel like she knew something I didn't.
"Marco," she whispers, and even in dreams, her voice pulls me in like a siren’s.
She's in my library again, fingers trailing along leather-bound spines, but she's looking at me.
Always at me.
"You still want me," she says, not a question but a statement of fact.
I don't answer. Even in dreams, I maintain my defenses. But my body betrays me as she moves closer. My heartbeat races. My dick hardens.
"Admit it," she challenges, now close enough that I can feel the heat of her body. "Admit you think about me."
Her hand finds my chest, fingers splayed over my heart.
"Every day," I reluctantly confess. "Every fucking day."
Her smile widens. She rises on her toes, lips brushing my ear. "Then take what you want."
My control shatters.
I pull her against me, claiming her mouth with mine.
She makes that sound, half gasp, half moan, that drives me wild. Her body arches into mine, like a perfect puzzle piece falling into place.
"Tell me you're mine," I growl against her throat.
She laughs, the sound both defiant and aroused. "Make me yours.”
I’m losing control. It never happens except with her. Anger and arousal mix as I seek to regain my bearings.
“On your knees,” I demand.
Her smile is coy, knowing. She lowers to her knees, her eyes blazing as she looks up at me. She’s not surrendering. She’s placating me.
My fingers grip her hair and tilt her head back as I take my dick and rub it over her lips. “Suck my cock, Gabriella.”
Her eyes still have that mix of defiance and amusement.
She’s a woman I can’t conquer.
And when her lips wrap around my dick, I understand that I never will.
She holds all the power over me, and I’m helpless against it.
Her mouth is wet and warm and I’m in fucking heaven as she licks and sucks.
My hips rock, fucking her mouth.
Electricity crackles through me.
Flows in my blood. Fills my cells.
I’m too close, too fast.
I’m teetering on the edge of oblivion.
On the edge of madness.
“Why? Why can’t I fucking forget you?”
“Because I’m a part of you.” She sucks me deep, the tip of my cock hitting the back of her throat.
Pleasure explodes, ripping through my body. I shake. I shudder.
I come so fucking hard, filling her mouth.
And through it all, she still stares up at me with that look that says she knows she holds power over me.
I jolt awake, heart pounding, my cum splattered on my chest, staining the sheets.
Fuck.
Sunlight filters through the curtains. It’s morning already. Another night lost to her memory.
I press the heels of my hands against my eyes, willing away the images, the sensations. This weakness, this wanting.
It’s hopeless.
I have to accept that Gabriella Monti is going to be my downfall.