Chapter 20
ADRIANA
Riccardo thinks he's so smart.
That's his problem. Always has been. He thinks he’s the smartest person in the room, even when the room is full of people who could end him without breaking a sweat. And because of my father, nobody tried.
But I’m not my father. And Riccardo better be prepared to deal with a new boss.
I pace the living room when Lochlan walks through the door, gym bag flung over his shoulder, slightly sweaty and looking way too good for someone who just spent two hours in a sparring war with his brothers.
“How bad is it?” he asks, dropping the bag. Reaper runs over to him, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. Lochlan bends down to give him some belly scratches while he watches me.
“Bad enough.” I stop pacing and let out a huff.
“He called a meeting with Carlo Bianchi, Tommy Greco, and Enzo Caruso. Three of the most influential capos. Vincenzo found out and shut it down before they got too far, but the damage is done. He’s challenged me publicly and made moves to discredit me. ”
Lochlan straightens up. “What was he telling them?”
I throw my hands into the air. “That I'm in over my head. That I ran from Moretti's. That the Russians are circling, and I don't have what it takes to protect the family.” My jaw tightens. “He's positioning himself as the alternative.”
“He's a fucking idiot,” Lochlan grunts, pushing his hair back.
“He's a dangerous idiot. That’s way worse than being a simple idiot.” I grab my phone. “I'm calling a meeting with all of them. Today.”
A flicker of uncertainty shadows Lochlan’s face. “You sure that's the right move?”
“If I wait, I let him control the narrative. I let the capos wonder why I'm not addressing it. I let doubt fester in their minds.” I twist my ring. “I can’t let doubt fester. That’ll be the beginning of the end.”
He nods and walks toward me. “What do you need? What can I do?” he asks.
“Same as before. Just stand behind me.” My lips quirk. “Try to look like you'd enjoy ripping Riccardo's throat out.”
Lochlan chuckles. “I won’t have to try at all.”
“I know.” I reach for his arm and give it a little squeeze. “That's why it’ll work.”
Two hours later, we're in a private room at an off-the-beaten-path kind of restaurant called Ragazzo’s.
Vincenzo told me about it. Said the men frequently come here to enjoy a meal and “handle problems.” The room has the same setup as before with a long table, capos seated around it, and tension thick enough to choke on.
But this time, I'm not trying to prove myself. I'm not asking for their respect.
I'm taking it. So fuck you, Riccardo.
Riccardo sits at the far end with his arms crossed, a smug expression making my fists twitch. I’ve never punched a man in the face before but my God, I’d love to launch a fist at his jaw and crack it in half. He thinks he's untouchable. He thinks blood protects him.
But I’ve never been much of a fan of nepotism. I believe in getting what you work your ass off for, not what’s handed to you because of a deathbed promise.
“Gentlemen,” I say, addressing the group. I don't sit. I stand at the head of the table. Lochlan is a step behind my right shoulder, and Vincenzo is seated to my left. “Thank you for coming on short notice.”
“Did we have a choice?” Riccardo snarls. My lips threaten to twist at the same line he used last time. Unoriginal prick.
“You always have a choice, which you demonstrated when you called a meeting without me.” I lift an eyebrow at him then sweep my gaze over the other capos. “Care to explain?”
Riccardo's smug expression flickers. He clearly didn’t expect me to come out swinging. And I’ve barely started.
“It wasn't a formal meeting,” he finally says. “Just lunch.”
“And a conversation about my leadership behind my back. With three of my father's most trusted captains.” I tilt my head. “That sounds pretty formal to me.”
Carlo Bianchi clears his throat. He's the oldest one here, been in the game since before I was born. “Adriana, we weren't trying to undermine—”
“Yes, you were,” I cut him off, trying to keep the anger out of my voice.
I can’t let them see me as an emotional wreck because that’ll undermine my abilities even more.
“Let's not pretend it was just a casual meal because we all know the truth. Riccardo called you together to discuss whether I'm fit to lead and whether you should throw your support behind someone else.” My eyes land back on Riccardo. “Someone like him. So let’s talk about him, shall we?”
Silence falls over the group, and it’s deafening.
“Here's what I want to know.” I plant my hands on the table and lean forward. “When the Russians hit Moretti's two nights ago, where were you, Riccardo?”
A deep red flush colors his face. “That's not a fair question.”
“Humor me. Tell me where you were.”
“I was at home. I didn't know about it until—”
“Until the next morning after it was over. After Moretti’s was destroyed, three armed Russians were lying on the floor.” I straighten up and look at each of the men seated around the table. “But do you know who was there? I was, and so was my husband. We handled it.”
“You ran away,” Riccardo bites out. “That's what I heard. The Russians showed up and you ran like a scared little—”
“I put one of them in the hospital.” My voice cuts into his words like the sharpest dagger.
“I cracked a wine bottle over his skull while he had a gun pointed at my husband's head. Then we got the Moretti family out safely before more of them could show up.” I pause.
“That's not running. That's surviving. That's protecting the people under our care.”
Riccardo's mouth opens. I lance him with a glare and his lips snap closed. For once, he doesn't have a comeback. Halle-fucking-lujah.
I turn to the rest of them. “I know some of you have doubts.
I know I'm not what you expected. A woman. A businesswoman. Someone who walked away from this life and only came back because she had no choice.” I straighten up.
“But I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere, so like it or not, you’re looking at the new head of the DiMicheli family.”
Carlo leans forward, his lined forehead pinched. “What about the Russians? They're getting bolder. Moretti's was a message that they won’t stop until they get what they want from us. Power, territories, control, cash. They want to dismember our organization and fold it into theirs.”
“I know. You’re right to be concerned. They pose very real threats that can hurt us if we don’t respond in the right ways.
But know that we're handling it. Wolfe Molloy is tracking their movements and communications.
Vincenzo has feelers out. We know they're pushing and testing our borders.
They think we're weak because my father is in a coma.” I look around the table. “They're wrong.”
“And if they hit us again?” Tommy Greco asks.
“Then we will hit back. Harder.” I hold his gaze. “But we will be smart about it. We will support each other and beat them together. And we don't let anyone… Russian, Irish, or Italian… divide us from the inside.”
That last part is pointed. Everyone knows I'm talking about Riccardo.
He knows it, too. His flushed face has not drained of all color, his jaw clenched so tight I can see the muscle jumping in his cheek.
“You can't just—" he starts to say.
“Oh, but I can.” I cut him off, a tight smile lifting my lips.
“And I am. This is my father's organization.
While he's recovering, I'm in charge. That's not up for debate.
That's not something you get to vote on behind closed doors.” I round the table and take a step toward him.
“If you have concerns about my leadership, you bring them to me directly. Not to a secret meeting where you think you can form a coup against me. Understand?”
“What if I don’t?” he snarls.
My fists tingle, and the temptation to punch a hole in his throat is damn strong.
“Then you and I will have a very different conversation. One you won't enjoy.” I lean toward him. “I promise you that. My father may have kept you around for some reason, but I’m not him.”
Shock seeps into the expressions of the other capos. Riccardo stares at me, hatred burning in his eyes. But he shuts the hell up.
“Vincenzo will be in touch with you all about next steps. We’ll meet again in one week. I expect updates from all of you.” I take one more look around and bite back a smile. The looks of astonishment on their faces are fucking priceless. I file the picture away. “Any questions?”
Nothing.
“Good. We're done here.” This time, I smile. A real one. “Enjoy your dinner.”
I turn and walk out. Lochlan rushes to catch up with me. He opens the door of his car for me and I slide into the seat. I wait until he presses the ignition button and pulls away from the curb before letting out the breath I’d been holding.
“Holy shit,” I breathe, clasping my shaking hands. I grip my knees to steady them.
“You were incredible.” Lochlan's voice is low, warming me. “Fucking incredible.”
I look at him, a smile playing at my lips. “Yeah?”
He grins. “Yeah. The way you shut that asshole down? The wine bottle line? They were eating out of your hand by the end of that speech.”
Something flares in my chest. Pride, maybe. Or relief. Or the strange, addictive pleasure of hearing him say I did well in the face of adversity.
I think I love it all, if I’m being honest.
“I wanted to strangle him,” I admit. “When he called me scared.”
“I wanted to strangle him, too. But you handled it way better than I would have.”
“Did I?” I lean my head back against the seat, a deep sigh shuddering my shoulders. “I feel like I just ran a marathon. My heart is ready to explode out of my chest right now.”
“That was the badass boss that your dad knew you’d become if the situation called for it.
He always saw it in you. That’s why you were the only one he’d ever consider to lead his organization if he couldn’t.
” He reaches over and takes my hand. His thumb traces circles on my palm and my heart pumps even harder.
“You okay? You should be proud as hell at what you accomplished back there.”
“I’m good.” I turn my head to look at him. “Hey, speaking of my dad, can we go to the hospital? I want to see him and tell him about what happened.”
“Of course.”
He makes a quick left and heads toward the hospital. I settle back against the seat and watch the city slide past while I process everything.
I stood in a room full of men, all of them criminals who've made a life of danger and intimidation. Men who didn't think I belonged in their world. And I made them listen.
Not because of my last name. Not because of Lochlan standing behind me. Because of me.
That feels... new. Good. I clasp my hands together. Terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
We get to the hospital a few minutes later and head up to the ICU. Lochlan waits for me outside the room so I can have privacy. My mom isn’t here so she must’ve come earlier with Luna.
I walk inside, cringing at the bleeping machines, and pull the chair close to his bed. Settling into the seat, I lean forward and take his hand.
“Hi, Dad.”
Silence hovers over us, as usual.
“I had a meeting with the capos today. Riccardo went behind my back and met with a couple of the guys to try to convince them I’m not fit to lead your organization.
” I pause, a smile tugging at my lips. “I shut him down in front of everyone. You should have seen his face. I thought his head was going to spin off his neck.”
The machines beep. Steady. Constant. At least he’s still with me.
I run my finger over the top of his hand.
“He was challenging me about how I handled an attack on Moretti’s restaurant a couple of nights ago.
Don’t worry. The family is fine. But three thug Russians showed up looking for blood.
So they got it.” I bite down on my lip. “I took one of them out myself. Cracked a wine bottle to the head when he pulled a gun on Lochlan. Lochlan handled the other two.”
I stare at his face, willing some reaction. A twitch. A flutter of his eyelids. Anything.
“Lochlan thinks you signed the contract because you knew I could do a good job with your organization, that you believed in me. He also tells me all the time that I’m killing it, which I’ll never get tired of hearing.
” I blow out a breath. “I had my doubts about all of this, Dad. I didn’t think I’d be able to do the job.
But I am. I'm holding things together. I'm protecting the people who depend on us.” My voice thickens.
“I'm making you proud. At least, I hope I am.”
The door opens softly behind me. I don't turn around, but I know it's Lochlan. He doesn't say anything, just stands there, giving me space.
“Vincenzo's been amazing,” I continue. “He’s really supportive. He's always there when I need him, always backing me up. And Lochlan...” I glance back at him near the door, shivering under his heated stare. “He's not what I expected. He's actually... good. For me. I think.”
I turn back to my dad and sit in silence for a few more minutes, holding his hand, listening to the machines that keep him breathing.
“Look, Dad, you need to wake up,” I say finally. “I can hold things together for a while, but this is your world. I'm just borrowing it.”
I press a kiss to his forehead and stand up.
Lochlan waits for me to walk out of the room. His hand finds the small of my back, steadying me.
“You okay?” he asks in a soft voice.
“Yeah.” I take one last look back at my father. “I think I am.”
We walk down the hallway together. His hand stays on my back the whole way to the elevator.
And somewhere in the middle of all this chaos with the Russians, the capos, my father in a coma, and a marriage I never asked for, something finally clicks in my mind.
I can do this.
I am doing this.
And for the first time in weeks, I actually believe it.