Chapter 18
Iwalk down the hallway, Marco following close behind. The guard at my office door nods, stepping aside to let us enter. As soon as the door shuts, Marco's facade of the lighthearted charmer evaporates.
"Zo, we've got a problem. The Rossi family isn't buying the story about Carmine," he says. His voice is terse, the muscles in his jaw tightening.
I pause, my hand hovering over the crystal decanter on my desk.
Fuck. I'd hoped our original plan would have worked, or at the very least, we'd have more time before all this came to a head.
I pour myself two fingers of whiskey, not offering any to Marco.
He wouldn't take it anyway—not when he's this on edge.
"How certain are you?" I ask, taking a slow sip, the smoky liquid burning a path down my throat.
"Very. My sources say they're not just suspicious—they're fucking livid. They know it wasn't an accident."
I nod. "And your sources—how reliable are they?"
"Very," he says, pacing. "They're convinced we killed him in cold blood. They're saying it's an act of war."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. War with the Rossi family—it's the last thing we need right now. My mind races, weighing the potential consequences, the blood that would be spilled.
"Fuck," I mutter. "We've just secured the Demitrakis deal. They'll balk if we're in the middle of a fight."
"But what can we do? An attack is imminent," Marco says. "We need to move fast, shore up our defenses. Maybe even strike first."
I take another sip, letting the silence stretch. Marco's always been impulsive, quick to panic. But he's not wrong to be concerned.
"What do your police contacts say?" I ask finally.
Marco shakes his head. "Nothing concrete yet, but there's chatter. Increased activity around known Rossi hangouts. Weapons moving through their usual channels. It all seems normal until it's not."
"And your security detail? Any unusual movement around City Hall?"
"No, not yet. But Zo, if they come after me—"
"They won't," I cut him off. "You're the legitimate face of this family. Attacking the Vice Mayor would bring down too much heat, even for the Rossis."
He shakes his head, agreeing with me.
"We'll double security. Quietly. Use our most trusted men. Stay away from your usual haunts for a while. I'll inform Gio of the same," I say.
"And what about you?" Marco asks. "If they're coming for anyone, it'll be you, Zo."
I smile coldly. "Let them try."
Marco opens his mouth to argue, but I hold up a hand. "I've got it handled, little brother. Focus on keeping your nose clean and your head down. We can't afford scrutiny, especially with the mayor potentially on his way out."
Marco stops pacing. "What about our options?"
"Options?"
"Well, there's always negotiations."
I know exactly what he's suggesting—a tribute, a payoff to keep the Rossis at bay. The mere thought makes my stomach turn. It's a concession of weakness, a stain on the Bonventi name.
"Unacceptable," I state. "I will not submit to those snakes."
Marco raises a hand. "Zo, please. Sometimes we have to swallow our pride for the family. Think about Livia. It's not just you now."
Her name sends an unexpected jolt through me. I clench my jaw. "She's here with me."
Marco nods. "About her. Gio and I were talking. We don't care who you share a bed with, but honesty between brothers matters."
I stare at him. "What the hell does that mean?"
"You say it's all business, but I saw the way you were looking at her. It's my job to read people, and that's not just business, Zo."
I take a long sip, welcoming the burn over Marco's words.
"It's not like that," I mutter, but even I can tell the words are untrue.
"Oh? Then what is it like? Because it looks like you're getting attached. That's new for you."
I sigh, rubbing my chin. Damn Marco and his perceptiveness. He's always been able to read me better than anyone. "It's complicated. I didn't expect to feel this way. I thought I could keep it all separate."
Marco laughs. "The great Enzo Bonventi, sent into mayhem by a woman. Never thought I'd see the day."
I glare at him. "Don't mock me. This isn't a joke."
He raises his hands again in a placating gesture.
"Hey, I'm not judging. Just observing. But you've got to admit, it's a far cry from what you've always preached.
'No love in our world,' remember? Your words, not mine.
I will admit, it's refreshing to see you feel something other than your cold, calculated ambitions. "
I turn away, the memory of those words, spoken so confidently in the past, now feels like they were said by someone else. "I don't know. She's different. Intelligent, fierce, passionate. She challenges me."
Marco is silent for a moment. "Are you falling in love with her?"
I laugh. "Love? No, I don't believe in such foolishness. But I..." I trail off, struggling to find the words.
"You what, Zo?"
I clench my fist. "I want her. To possess her, keep her by my side."
Marco nods. "She's your Emilia."
I look at him, remembering how Emilia almost cost Marco his political career.
"Well, not like—" I start.
"No, of course not. But remember how she consumed me?
Look, Gio would say love is a liability.
But not loving is a weakness too. If you don't think she can be your partner in everything—business, life—then get rid of her.
She has to be in the trenches with you, as supportive as Gio or I are. Will she?"
Fuck.
"Hell if I know. I mean, I—" I pause. "Dammit."
Marco places a hand on my shoulder. "Figure it out, brother. And prepare for anything the Rossi family might do."
I clench my fists. "I'll protect this family at all costs," I growl, finishing my whiskey. "They won't touch her. I'll burn this whole fucking city to the ground before I let that happen."