Chapter 19 Marco #2
Leo's eyes narrow, his voice dropping to a dangerous pitch. "Let me get this straight. When my daughter talked to the FBI, La Corona demanded she marry your enforcer as punishment. But Gabriella Monti gets to continue her little chats with Agent Blackwood and we're supposed to call it strategy?"
I meet his angry gaze. “The situations aren't comparable. Isabella was actively informing Blackwood.”
“You’re buying this?” Leo asks Dom.
“When it was discovered that Agent Blackwood approached me, I was threatened with marriage—to you, Dom.”
Dom’s eyes widen and he turns pale. “I wasn’t—”
“Or to be shipped off to my brother. The compromise is that Don Calabresi watch over me, keep me in line. So yes, I suffered consequences even though I hadn’t actually sought him out.” She shakes her head, and I’m sure her mind is racing with unkind adjectives about us and our ways.
Leo’s eyes are still dark, but he doesn’t respond.
“You all know that Ms. Monti is well versed in our way of life, our business. Plus, she has a law degree. She can assess just how damning the evidence Blackwood has is and give him information that could lead us to whoever is undermining La Corona.”
“Who else knows about this?” Dom’s question gives me hope that he’s on board.
“Only the people in this room, and that’s how it needs to stay. Whoever this fucker is, they’re close to us. No low-level soldier.”
“I’m not sure I like that you’re insinuating someone I trust in my business is trying to ruin me,” Leo says, incensed.
“I’m not insinuating anything, and this isn’t about you, Leo, or me or Dom or Antonio. It’s about La Corona.”
Leo's gaze shifts to Gabriella. "And you're willing to risk this? If they discover you're playing both sides—"
"I understand the risks," she answers. "I've spent a year trying to protect my father's interests. This is an extension of that."
Dom blows out a breath. “I’m okay with a meet. But we need to be informed of the information shared and what happens in the meeting.”
We all look to Leo.
"This isn't how we operate." Leo leans forward with his hands clasped tightly on the table. "Women don't play these roles in our world. They never have."
"With respect, Don Ferraza.” Gabriella gives him a placating smile. "I'm not asking to be anyone's consiglieri. I'm a daughter of La Corona who happens to have legal training and an FBI agent trying to use me against my family."
I try not to smile with pride as Gabriella steps fully into her power.
"The old ways served us well," Leo counters. “Men lead. Protect. Defend.”
Gabriella doesn't flinch. "And yet someone infiltrated our families. Someone who knows exactly how we operate and is using it against us. Perhaps what we need now isn't the old way but a new approach. One they won't expect."
Roman nods slightly. "She has a point. Blackwood approached her because he thought she'd be vulnerable. Easy to manipulate. I think we can see that Ms. Monti is smart and strong enough to hold her own.”
Leo sighs heavily. "Antonio, you're allowing this?"
Antonio looks at his daughter, and I see pride as well as a belief in her. "My Gabriella has never followed the traditional path. Why start now?"
The tension breaks slightly as chuckles ripple around the table.
Leo shakes his head but finally acquiesces. "One meeting. And afterward…” Leo’s eyes lock with mine. "We revisit the question of consequences."
Anger boils that he’d threaten Gabriella with punishment, but I meet his gaze. "After we find the traitor, we can discuss everything else."
Dom leans back. "I've got my own FBI problem. Agent Ricci's been sniffing around my operations for months. You think that's a coincidence?"
“I can try to find out,” Gabriella says.
But I don’t like it. If she pokes and prods too much, she might give her intentions away.
"It's risky." Leo echoes my concerns. "For her, especially."
"I'm aware of the risks," she responds, chin lifting slightly.
I turn to Gabriella. "Thank you for your input. We'll handle the rest of the meeting from here."
She opens her mouth as if to protest, then seems to think better of it. "Of course." She stands. "Gentlemen."
I watch her leave, surprised and grateful that she didn't fight to stay.
The meeting continues for another hour.
We discuss logistics, contingencies, the upcoming holiday shipments that need extra protection.
When we finally adjourn, I shake hands with each Don, clasping Antonio's shoulder briefly. "I'll take care of her," I say quietly.
He studies my face. "I believe you will."
I find Gabriella in the library, where I first kissed her a year ago.
She spends a lot of time here.
Probably because it’s the best room for her to work in, not out of sentiment.
She's reading a legal brief, her brow furrowed in concentration.
"I have something for you."
She looks up, suspicious. "What kind of something?"
"A surprise." I hold out my hand. "Come with me."
She takes it, her fingers warm against mine.
I lead her toward the front of the house, feeling strangely excited and a little silly for what I’m about to do.
Ever since I asked my staff to take care of this task for her, I’ve felt oddly nervous.
"Close your eyes," I tell her as we approach the living room.
"Marco—"
"Humor me."
She sighs but complies.
I position her in the doorway, then step back to flick on the switch.
"Open them."
Gabriella's eyes widen as she takes in the transformation.
The once-stark living room now glows with warm white lights draped over garlands of evergreen along the mantel and wrapped around a towering pine in the corner.
“You decorated for Christmas?” Her voice is filled with surprise and wonder.
“I arranged for the decorations.”
She turns to me, eyes bright. "But you don’t like Christmas.”
“But you do.” I brush a tendril of her hair from her cheek.
"I love it.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
I might say something stupid.
Words that might hint at something longer term.
Promising something I know I can’t promise.
I motion toward the couch, where my staff have laid out a bottle of wine and two glasses. "Sit with me?"
Gabriella nods, her eyes still bright with surprise. We settle before the crackling fire.
"You didn't have to do this," she says, accepting the glass I pour her.
"I know." I take a sip of my own wine. "But since you’re stuck here with me… I figure it’s a good peace offering."
She laughs softly. "Are we at war, Marco?"
Maybe we are. Maybe we always have been. Fighting against this pull between us.
"Sometimes, I think so," I admit.
Her eyes find mine over the rim of her glass. "And other times?"
Other times, I think we're inevitable. Like gravity. Like the sun rising tomorrow.
I set my glass down and take hers, placing it beside mine on the table.
When I turn back to her, she's watching me with those dark eyes that see too much.
My hand finds her face, thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "Other times, I think we're this."
I kiss her, tasting wine and something uniquely Gabriella.
She melts against me, her arms sliding around my neck as I pull her closer.
The fire pops and hisses beside us as I lower her back against the cushions.
I let myself forget all the reasons this is a bad idea.
Right now, I let myself have this moment of peace, of connection, of something close to happiness.
"Marco," she whispers against my lips. There’s an emotion to it. Hope. Maybe something more.
I silence her with another kiss, deeper this time.
More desperate.
Because this, our bodies moving together, is all I can give her.
It doesn’t matter that I want more.
This is all I can dare allow myself.