8. Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Ettore
M ost days, I’d make my way into the warehouse that served as our base of operations. Within its walls, we conducted our illicit business, from orchestrating schemes to torture prisoners to keeping track of our illegal money laundering activities. It was a hub of danger and deception, but also a place where we all came together as a team.
But I needed to take today off. Filling Leone’s shoes would require a lot of work, and I could trust my friends to handle things in my absence. And I was just one call away if something went south.
“We need to work on some things today,” I said to Liria.
“Like what?” she responded.
I had organized her father’s files and had a rough idea of what was going on. The problem was, I couldn’t just waltz in and declare myself the successor of Leone Alto. No, it required a blood relative; an heir.
Liria.
“We’re going to meet with one of your father’s contacts.”
“What? No,” Her response was to physically turn away from me, emphasizing her point without saying a word. “You said you just needed access to his contacts.”
“I know,” I replied, keeping my gaze fixed on the back of her head. “But you’re his heiress, Liria. They need to see you. They need to hear it from you.”
Her body stiffened, and she turned around to meet my eyes. They were hard, a sparkling blue that could rival the most precious sapphires, but behind the hardness was fear – I could see it.
“I can’t...” she started, her voice choked and her face pale. She was visibly shaking now. “I don’t know how...”
Liria didn’t finish her sentence, but I knew what she meant. She would fail if she tried to talk to a stranger.
“Yes, you can,” I reassured her, closing the distance between us. “I’ll be there. You just have to introduce yourself, and I’ll do the rest of the talking.”
She glanced at me from beneath her long lashes, doubt flickering in her eyes. “You promise?”
I nodded. “Cross my heart.”
We spent the rest of the day going over our plan, preparing Liria for the meeting. I made her practice greeting the contact, taught her a few phrases that would make her sound confident and in control even when she was anything but.
Night fell on the city, casting long shadows that danced in tandem with the neon lights of bars and night clubs. We climbed into a sleek black car, and I gave our driver the address. The ride to our destination was silent; Liria was too busy staring out the window, her eyes taking in the cityscape. Her hands were balled into fists, knuckles white against the black of her dress.
“Don’t worry,” I said, placing a reassuring hand on her knee. “You’ve got this. And,” I paused, giving her a devious smirk. “I’ve seen the firecracker side of you, so I know it’s in there.”
Liria let out a small, nervous laugh, her gaze flicking to me before darting back to the window. “I’m not sure that’s a side of me anyone wants to see,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“I do,” I responded honestly.
“You don’t count,” she said, the corner of her mouth turning down.
“Ouch,” I said in mock-pain. “You don’t care what your husband thinks?”
She reached out and swatted my knee. “You know what I mean.”
A light chuckle escaped me as I caught her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know,” I said quietly, offering her a warm smile as the tension in the car lessened for just a moment.
The car pulled up to a nondescript brownstone building nestled in a row of similar structures, a relic left untouched by the city’s rapid modernization. We exited the vehicle, Liria gripping my arm for support as her heels clicked against the cobblestones. A heavy wooden door loomed ahead of us and I pushed it open, leading her into a dimly lit hallway.
We were directed towards a room at the end of the hall, its door guarded by two hulking men whose severe expressions hinted at the danger lurking behind them. As we approached, they assessed us with scrutinizing gazes. Liria tightened her grip on my arm, her nails digging through the fabric of my suit. The larger of the two pushed the door open, revealing a room that was starkly different from the rest of the building. It was well-lit, with walls adorned in expensive artwork and a single, grand mahogany table at the center.
There, sitting with an air of authority that could only be earned through decades of ruthless leadership, was a man named Raffaele.
It was a name that held weight, as he was a feared figure in the underworld. Even Liria, who had been sheltered from her father’s darker dealings, recognized him instantly.
His eyes were sharp and piercing, like an eagle’s, and his graying beard gave him an aura of wisdom and experience. When he saw us enter, he rose gracefully from his mahogany chair, smiling in a way that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Hilaria Alto,” he said. “I thought you were a myth.”
Leone kept Liria sheltered from the world as much as possible. She had been homeschooled and only allowed to attend crucial events. She was so infrequently seen that none of the Don’s from the four families had ever crossed paths with her before.
“Moretti,” I said firmly. Although Raffaele was not a person one should correct, I had to confirm the changes.
“Moretti,” he echoed. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Liria summoned as much courage into her voice as she could and responded. “N-Nice to meet you as well.”
“I see you’ve stepped into your father’s shoes.”
“Well… that is…” she looked away from him, unsure how to respond.
“Leone’s death was unexpected and unfortunate,” I interjected, drawing Raffaele’s attention from the now trembling Liria. “In the wake of the tragic event, the Alto and Moretti family have decided to combine.”
“Hmm,” he said, moving closer to us. “And whose idea was that, Mrs. Moretti?”
“Um…” She shrank away from him as he entered her personal bubble. “B-both.”
Raffaele studied us both for a moment, a ponderous look passing over his features. “Fascinating.” He gestured towards the chairs opposite him at the grand mahogany table. “Please, have a seat.”
I pulled out Liria’s chair for her and shot her a reassuring glance as she sat down. She nodded, hopefully drawing strength from my presence.
We sat in silence for a few moments. The grandiose room filled with an intensity that was palpable. It was in these moments that negotiations were made and fates decided.
Raffaele took a sip from his fine crystal glass before speaking. “So what exactly does this merge mean for our operations together? Should they continue?”
With determined focus, I launched into action. The notes left behind by Leone had been thoroughly studied and analyzed, revealing gaps in his strategies. These findings were eagerly relayed to him, a small taste of the value I could bring to our partnership.
Throughout it all, Raffaele listened. His hawkish eyes never leaving mine as I detailed the proposed changes. An underlying current of mutual respect formed between us, even as tension hung in the air.
“And what say you, Mrs. Moretti?” He turned his attention to Liria, his gaze filled with curiosity. “Do you stand by your husband’s plans for our future?”
Liria looked from me to Raffaele, a faint line of concern marking her forehead. She had been silent throughout the discussion, her involvement being more symbolic than anything else. A representation of her father’s legacy.
“Always.”
My excitement was nearly overwhelming. Although short, it was one of the best answers she could have given.
Raffaele seemed to appreciate her response, nodding approvingly. “Well,” he began, “This is indeed an unexpected change in our alliances, but not unwelcome.”
He raised his glass towards us in a silent toast before taking another sip, a sign of acceptance that we both recognized.
“We shall proceed with your plans. But remember this,” he added, his gaze hardening as he looked at us both, “Rome wasn’t built in a day. Solid partnerships take time to form and if there’s one thing I’ve grown to appreciate in my years... it’s patience.”
“Of course,” I replied. “We understand completely.”
His words hung heavy in the room as we concluded our business. The implication was clear; this was only the beginning of a long and challenging road. Raffaele had given us his approval, but also a warning. Our alliance would be built on trust and respect, both earned over time and not freely given.
After the meeting, we navigated our way through the labyrinth of hallways until we reached the entrance where our car was waiting. Liria stayed silent, seemingly lost in thought as our chauffeur opened the door for her. As I slid onto the seat next to her, I could see her eyes welling up with tears. She bit her lip, doing her best to hold them back.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, placing my hand on her knee.
“I suck,” she said, her voice cracking. She turned to look towards the window, presumably so I couldn’t see her tears fall.
I unbuckled my seatbelt, scooting over the middle seat so I was directly next to her. I placed my hand on her chin and delicately turned her face to mine.
“You don’t suck.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks. I wanted to say that she shouldn’t cry because she was too gorgeous for it, but even with tears falling, she still looked stunning. The tears looked like small diamonds falling from sapphires.
“We did it, didn’t we?” I said, wiping the tears off her cheeks with the sleeve of my shirt.
“You did it.”
“Hm, not true. I could have never done it without your pretty face by my side.”
She gently swatted my chest. “Don’t tease me.”
“I would never.” I chuckled, giving her a mischievous wink. “You did great, Liria. You showed courage and strength, just like Leone would have wanted.”
“But I didn’t even say anything!” she protested, her eyes filled with frustration. “I was just... sitting there!”
“And sometimes that’s all that’s needed,” I reassured her gently. “Your presence alone gives weight to negotiations.”
“I guess.” She pulled away from me, and I had the immediate urge to pull her back into my arms.
“Do you want to get ice cream?” I asked, knowing her love for desserts would take her mind off the subject.
“Rocky road?”