Chapter 7 #4
The rest of the room might as well have ceased to exist. The men, the weapons, Zachary’s voice—all of it seemed to fade into the background beneath the weight of his unwavering stare.
His stare was so intense that I felt compelled to break the silence.
“Mr. Zachary, why are you asking such an irrelevant question?” I asked, my voice steady. “Yes, I am his wife. What does that have to do with this transaction?”
I gestured toward the men surrounding us.
“You should be reprimanding your son for nearly turning a business disagreement into a bloodbath. If we hadn’t shown restraint, you and half the men in this room would already be dead.”
The crooked smile vanished from Zachary’s face. The color drained from his weathered features.
For one brief second, he simply stared at me.
Then his face darkened with fury.
His jaw clenched so hard I could see the muscle twitch beneath his skin.
“You—”
He surged toward me.
His hand came up, fast and vicious, his palm cutting through the air toward my face.
I caught his wrist before it could reach me.
The impact barely moved me.
I twisted his arm aside and released him immediately, taking several measured steps backward.
The room went silent.
Zachary stared at his own hand as though he couldn’t comprehend what had just happened.
I met his furious gaze without flinching.
“If you want a one-on-one fight, Mr. Zachary, say so.”
I tilted my head slightly.
“But don’t mistake me for a woman who will stand still and let you hit her because you’re an older man.”
His nostrils flared.
“I won’t tolerate that kind of disrespect again.” I took another step back. “Try it a second time, and I won’t simply stop you.”
The humiliation hit him harder than my words.
His face had turned crimson, his chest rising and falling heavily as he struggled to contain the rage boiling beneath his skin.
He had expected me to cower.
To accept the slap.
To stand there and let him humiliate me simply because of his age and position.
Instead, I had stopped him in front of his own men.
His pride had been wounded, and judging by the murderous look in his eyes, he was struggling not to lose control.
He turned sharply toward Romeo.
“I will not tolerate disrespect from your damned wife!” His voice thundered through the room. ““She doesn’t seem to realize who she’s speaking to.”
His finger pointed toward me.
“Tell her to kneel at my feet, bow her head, and apologize for the insult.” His eyes burned with fury. “Right now.”
He stepped closer to Romeo, his voice dropping into a vicious command.
A beat of silence followed.
Then Romeo moved.
One slow step forward.
The entire room seemed to hold its breath.
He stopped between us, his expression unreadable.
“We seem to have forgotten why we’re here,” Romeo said, his voice calm but carrying enough weight to silence the room. “We’re here to do business. So let’s conduct business.”
His voice was flat and cold, utterly devoid of emotion.
“Your son nearly shot me. My men had every reason to retaliate, yet we didn’t. That should tell you everything you need to know about why I’m standing here trying to resolve this without bloodshed.”
His gaze hardened.
“But don’t mistake restraint for weakness. I’m sure you’ve heard what I’ve done when restraint is no longer an option.”
The words were quiet.
Romeo didn’t need to elaborate.
Men like Zachary didn’t survive this long in the Mafia without knowing exactly what kind of man stood before them.
Zachary stared at him for several seconds.
Then he gave a low, humorless chuckle, as though Romeo’s reputation amused rather than impressed him.
“Forty-eight hours.” Zachary’s voice was calmer now, but the fury had not left his eyes. “That’s how long you have to put the rest of my weapons back in my hands.”
Zachary’s gaze shifted to me.
The look in his eyes made my skin crawl.
“And if you fail...”
He let the silence stretch.
His eyes moved over me with such cold calculation that I felt as though he were already deciding where to bury me.
“...send me your wife as collateral.”
My stomach tightened.
Zachary’s mouth curved into a thin, vicious smile.
“She stays with me until every last weapon is recovered.”
He shrugged, almost casually, as though he hadn’t just demanded a human life in exchange for a shipment of guns.
Then his gaze returned to Romeo.
“Consider that the price of your failure.”
He turned away.
For a moment, I thought it was over.
Then Zachary stopped.
He glanced toward his son—the same man who had nearly pulled the trigger on Romeo only moments earlier.
There was no reprimand in his expression.
Instead, he gave him a slow nod.
Approval.
The sight chilled me more than his threat had.
His son lowered his weapon.
The rest of Zachary’s men followed.
One by one, they moved toward the crates.
The first man bent down and lifted one.
Then another.
Metal scraped against the warehouse floor as the crates were gathered, loaded, and carried toward the waiting vehicles.
No one spoke.
No one lowered their guard completely.
I watched as Zachary’s men filed out, their footsteps echoing through the warehouse.
One vehicle started.
Then another.
Zachary remained outside until nearly everyone else had left.
His son was the last to follow him.
Before getting into the vehicle, Zachary turned his head.
His eyes found mine across the distance.
He held my gaze for several long seconds.
There was something in that look that made my pulse quicken.
A promise.
Then he climbed into the vehicle, the doors slammed shut, and moments later, the convoy began to move.
Slowly, the vehicles passed through the security gates one after another.
Romeo’s men remained frozen, weapons still raised, their eyes tracking every departing vehicle.
The final vehicle disappeared beyond the gates.
Only then did the tension finally begin to loosen.
One by one, Romeo’s men lowered their weapons.
But the silence that followed felt almost as dangerous as the standoff itself.
A hollow ache settled deep in my chest.
I looked at Romeo.
My husband.
The man I had dragged back from death three times.
The man who hated me enough to look at me as though I were nothing more than the daughter of his enemy, yet who, despite that hatred, could at least have pretended to be my husband in front of other men.
But when Zachary had raised his hand to strike me, Romeo hadn’t moved.
He hadn’t stopped him.
He hadn’t even threatened retaliation.
If I hadn’t caught Zachary’s wrist myself, the old man would have slapped me across the face and humiliated me in front of everyone—and Romeo would have stood there and let it happen.
I understood why he had remained silent. He was trying to build trust with the men around him, to keep fragile alliances from collapsing into another war. A single confrontation could turn a business arrangement into a blood feud.
I understood all of that.
But understanding it didn’t make it hurt any less.
He could have protected me without starting a war.
He could have said something.
Anything.
Perhaps even as a simple acknowledgment of the fact that I had saved his life.
Three times.
My gaze dropped.
I swallowed against the tightness in my throat, refusing to let the ache show on my face.
If I hadn’t followed him here today, Romeo would probably be dead.
I lowered my eyes before he could see what his indifference had done to me.
Perhaps this was what it meant to love a man who hated you.
You could save his life three times and still be worth nothing to him.
Keegan stepped forward, his expression tight with disbelief.
“Boss, surely you aren’t going to let Zachary walk out of here after the disrespect he just showed you—and your wife?”
Romeo’s gaze remained fixed on the warehouse entrance long after the last of Zachary’s vehicles disappeared beyond the gates.
His expression was unreadable.
Then his eyes shifted to Keegan. “Set up an ambush.”
Keegan went still.
“None of them leave Florida alive.”
Romeo’s voice was quiet and absolute.
“I want every man in that convoy dead. Zachary and his son included.”
A beat of silence. “Bring their heads to my fifth warehouse.”
Keegan’s jaw dropped.
“Boss—”
“Kill them all.” Romeo didn’t raise his voice, but the command fell with the finality of a death sentence.
He turned away from Keegan, already finished with the matter, as though the lives he had just ordered taken were nothing more than another problem to be removed from his territory.
Keegan hesitated for only a second before nodding.
“Yes, Boss.”
The Irish soldiers moved immediately.
They scattered with practiced efficiency, weapons secured and orders relayed in clipped voices as they poured out of the warehouse and into the waiting vehicles.
Engines roared to life outside.
One vehicle after another disappeared through the gates, carrying Romeo’s men toward the hunt he had just unleashed.
Within minutes, the enormous warehouse had fallen eerily quiet.
The echoes of footsteps faded.
The vehicles vanished.
The last engine disappeared into the distance.
Until only Romeo and I remained.
Romeo walked back to the metal beam, his gaze settling on the bullet hole where Zachary’s son’s shot had struck.
He ran his fingertips across the fresh dent, studying it in silence.
I watched him from several feet away.
Neither of us spoke.
Finally, without looking at me, he broke the silence.
“That bullet could’ve hit you.”
I swallowed. “It wasn’t a decision.”
I looked down at my hands. “It was instinct. If I’d stopped to think, it would’ve been too late.”
He stood there for another second before turning toward the exit.
I followed several steps behind, my legs still shaky from the adrenaline wearing off.
Outside, the humid Florida air wrapped around us.
Romeo stopped beside the SUV.
Without a word, he tossed the keys onto the hood before looking at me.
“Go home.”
I met his gaze, and for the first time since the confrontation began, I let my anger show.
“So I don’t even get a thank-you?” My voice cracked with disbelief. “Not even after saving your life... again?”
The words came out louder than I intended.