Chapter 14
Isit in the backseat of my black Bentley, staring out the window. The familiar streets of Chicago blur past.
"Ten minutes, Mr. Bonventi," my driver calls from the front seat.
I nod, though he can't see me.
And while tonight's meeting is important, my mind, however, is elsewhere.
Livia's image lingers in my thoughts. I find myself wondering what she's doing at this moment, whether she's immersed in her research or exploring the depths of my library.
Both are better than when she's out with Alex.
Even though Alessandro is loyal, the idea of another man spending so much time with Livia makes me…
" I clench my hand and take a deep breath.
For a distraction, I reach out and grab the small leather-bound book on the seat beside me.
It's a unique collection of Victorian poetry, found by my rare books dealer, and one that I think Livia would appreciate.
At first, I considered keeping it for myself, using it to impress her with a well-timed quote or two, but that would mean I am starting to care what she thinks of me.
Am I?
I loosen my tie slightly, feeling constricted. The Armani suit I'm wearing suddenly feels suffocating. I'm just not used to this vulnerability.
Forget it, I'll just give it to her as a gift.
The car turns onto a quiet side street, and I see the warm glow of La Sfera Nera's windows. My restaurant. A place where I feel in control.
But lately, with Livia…
I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I have an important meeting ahead. I can't afford to be distracted by thoughts of chestnut hair and perfect, sun-kissed olive skin.
"We're here, Sir," my driver announces, pulling up to the curb.
I straighten my tie one last time before stepping out. The cool night air hits my face, and I scan the area, my senses heightened as I morph into my role — Don Bonventi.
Gio and Marco are standing by the entrance, their presence highlighting the importance of tonight's meeting. I nod to them as I approach.
"Enzo," Gio greets me, his voice low. "He's waiting inside."
"Arrived ten minutes ago," Marco adds.
Of course, I don't need to ask who 'he' is.
Nikolas Demitrakis, the Don of the Greek Mafia.
Their involvement in our operations is crucial, given their expertise in maritime smuggling.
Nicknamed 'The Navigator' for his ability to move merchandise into the ports without detection from the East Coast, Nikolas is always one to be bought for services, and we have a big one for him.
"How's he looking?" I ask, my eyes scanning the street for any signs of trouble.
"Relaxed. Confident. He brought two of his men with him," Marco says.
I nod, processing the information. "Good. Let's not keep him waiting."
We enter La Sfera Nera, the warmth of the restaurant enveloping us. The soft glow of candlelight reflects off the dark wood paneling, creating an intimate atmosphere. The chatter of diners fills our ears as we make our way to the back room, reserved for tonight's get-together.
I turn the corner and enter the room. I spot Nikolas immediately. He rises as we approach, smiling.
"Enzo," he says, extending his hand. "It's been too long."
I grasp his hand firmly, meeting his gaze. "Indeed it has, Nikolas," I say, motioning for him to sit. "Thank you for coming. Please, sit down."
We take our seats, the tension in the air palpable. I can feel Gio and Marco's eyes on me, waiting for my lead.
"I hope you don't mind," Nikolas says, gesturing to the bottle of ouzo on the table. "I took the liberty of ordering a little taste of home."
I smile, appreciating the gesture. "Not at all. Antonio," I call to my head waiter, "bring us some glasses, please."
As Antonio hurries to comply, I study Nikolas. He looks relaxed, but I can see the sharp intelligence in his eyes. This man didn't earn the nickname "The Navigator" for nothing.
"So, Enzo," Nikolas says, leaning back in his chair. "What's so important that you needed to meet on such short notice?"
I pause, considering my words carefully. The partnership I'm about to propose could change everything for both our families. But one wrong move, one misspoken word, and it could all go up in flames.
"We have a proposition for you, Nikolas," I begin, my voice steady. "One that could be mutually beneficial for both our families."
Nikolas raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "I'm listening."
Antonio returns with another waitress, one I don't recognize. As she puts a glass down in front of me, her hair color reminds me of Livia. A sudden rise in me wishes I was sitting across from her now and not here on business.
I blink and resume my thought process.
I lean forward. "We've got a shipment coming in. Biggest one yet, but we've hit a snag with our usual routes."
"Let me guess," Nikolas interjects, a knowing smile on his face. "The feds are sniffing around your usual channels."
I nod, impressed by his quick understanding. "Exactly. We need a new way to get our goods into the city. And that's where you come in."
Nikolas takes a sip of his ouzo, his eyes never leaving mine. "We're friends, so I'll cut right to it. What's in it for me, Enzo? Why should I risk my operation for yours?"
I feel Gio tense beside me, but I raise a hand to calm him. This is the dance, and Nikolas is testing.
"Because, Nikolas," I say, my voice calm but firm, "this isn't just about one shipment. We're proposing a long-term partnership. Your expertise in maritime smuggling combined with our distribution network? We could double, maybe even triple, our profits within a year."
Nikolas leans back, considering my words in silence.
"It's an interesting proposition," he finally says. "But I need more details. How would this partnership work? What's the split?"
I smile, feeling the momentum shift in our favor. "Let's discuss the specifics," I say, signaling to Antonio to bring us some food. "I think you'll find our terms more than fair."
As we delve into the nitty-gritty of the deal, I can't help but feel a surge of excitement. This partnership could change everything, solidifying our power in Chicago and beyond.
But as I negotiate with Nikolas, I glance down at my watch and realize I won't make it in time for dinner, and an emotion tries to seep into my mind, but I'm too focused on the task to let it linger.
After some back and forth, a deal is struck. Nikolas's hand claps mine in a firm handshake. I can see the satisfaction in his eyes — this partnership will benefit us both greatly and change the landscape of our operations in Chicago.
As Gio and Marco rise to escort our Greek counterparts out, Nikolas leans in close.
"A pleasure doing business with you, Enzo," Nikolas says, his Greek accent thicker now that the tension has eased.
"Likewise," I respond, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins.
I watch them go, a quiet sense of triumph overtakes me. This alliance will solidify our power, our reach. The Bonventi family's legacy will continue to grow, unimpeded.
Gio and Marco return once our guests have left.
"Well, that went better than expected," Gio says, clapping me on the shoulder.
I nod, allowing myself a small smile. "It did. This partnership will open up new avenues for us."
Marco, ever the observant one, clears his throat and gives me a look.
"What?" I ask, my voice stern.
"You just seemed a bit distracted, that's all. Not your usual self during the negotiations."
I feel a flicker of irritation at his probing. "I'm fine," I snap, then relax my tone. "I was just considering all the angles, that's all."
Gio leans in, "Are you sure? Your head seemed elsewhere at times."
A muscle in my jaw twitches as I fight back the irritation rising within me. "Enough with the questions," I say. "I was fully present and aware. I got the deal done. That's all that matters."
"Yes, brother, yes you did," Gio says, leaning back.
They exchange a look but say nothing more. I'm grateful for their silence as we make our way out of La Sfera Nera and into the cool Chicago night.
In the car, I lean back against the leather seat, closing my eyes for a moment. The weight of the evening's success should be sitting comfortably on my shoulders, but instead, I feel unsettled.
I've pulled off a major coup for the family. This deal with Nikolas will expand everything I've been working towards.
So why can't I focus on that?
Instead, my mind keeps drifting back to the mansion.
To the library.
To Livia.
I find myself hoping she's still awake, picturing her at her desk, her chestnut hair falling in waves around her face. The image is so vivid it almost hurts.
What's happening to me?
I've never been one to let personal matters interfere with business. I've always prided myself on my ability to compartmentalize, to keep my emotions in check. But tonight, during a vital negotiation, I found my thoughts straying to her.
To the way her eyes light up when she talks about her research. To the defiant tilt of her chin when she disagrees with me. To the softness of her skin when my hand brushed against hers.
I clench my fist, trying to push these thoughts away. This isn't me. I'm fucking Enzo Bonventi, Don of the most powerful Italian mafia family in Chicago. I don't get distracted by a woman, no matter how intriguing she might be.
And yet.
The car pulls up to the mansion, and I'm out before the driver can open my door. I nod to the guards as I stride inside, my steps quick.
I head straight for the library, my heart racing in a way that has nothing to do with the evening's negotiations. As I approach the door, I pause, taking a deep breath to compose myself.
What am I doing? What am I hoping for?
I push open the door, my eyes immediately scanning the room, and there she is. Livia, just as I'd imagined her, at her desk.
She looks up as I enter, her eyes widening slightly in surprise.
I stand there, drinking in the sight of her, feeling a tension I didn't even know I was carrying start to ease.
In that moment, for a brief second before I try to speak, I feel as if everything I ever wanted in this life is sitting right before me, and a quote from Bronte comes to mind — "My very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly vengeance."