Chapter 7
Adriano Pov~
"I don't understand. Why go through all the trouble of having Matteo fly all the way to Italy just to call his kids bastards and belittle his wife... and yours too? Don't you think that's a little excessive?" Stefano asked, looking around the room at the rest of the men.
I smirked and leaned back in my chair.
"The Council has always been over the top. That's how they operate." Matteo shrugged. "If they're making this much noise... then whatever they're planning is serious."
Silence settled over the office.
The five men watched me carefully as Matteo finished recounting everything that had happened in Italy.
I hadn't said much, I was listening. Thinking. The rage simmering beneath my skin was becoming harder to contain, and every man in this room could feel it.
"What are you gonna do, Boss?" Niccolò asked from his chair in the corner.
My eyes slowly lifted to meet his. "I think we've had enough of this back-and-forth game." My voice was rough... controlled. "It's time we talked face-to-face. Man to man."
The room fell silent again. They insulted my wife. My amore.
They disrespected my children. My nephews. My nieces.
My family.
No one had ever dared speak about my family that way. And no one would ever get the chance to do it again.
"What are you saying, Adriano?" Giovanni asked quietly, already looking like he wasn't going to like my answer.
I slowly rose from my chair.
Both fists came down on the conference table with a heavy thud as I leaned forward, looking each of my men in the eye.
"They don't know a fucking thing about my family. They don't know a fucking thing about me. They don't know a fucking thing about this Mafia. They sit on their thrones in Italy while I'm the one doing all the fucking work."
A slow, dangerous chuckle escaped me. "No..." A grin spread across my face. "This is a game. And we're going to play it smarter than they ever expected."
I looked directly at Matteo. "Round up your family."
Then Giovanni. "Round up yours too." Both men immediately understood. "We're taking a trip to Italy."
A wicked grin spread across Matteo's face. Giovanni looked considerably less enthusiastic, but after a long moment, he gave me a single nod. He knew there wasn't another option.
If the Basilio Council wanted to judge my family...then I'd introduce them to my family personally. And they'd learn exactly why no one dared challenge the Basilios.
~***~
"Italy?" Gianna exclaimed, planting her hands on her hips as she stood in the middle of our bedroom.
She looked slightly pissed off...which only made her look even more adorable. I sighed and took a step toward her. She immediately took one back.
The look she gave me clearly said, Don't you even think about it. I couldn't help smirking.
"Amore, I'm sorry for springing this on you," I said, closing the distance between us once more. "But the Council basically looked at my family and said, 'Fuck you.' They insulted my kids... they disrespected my wife."
My jaw tightened. "I have to deal with them myself."
She remained silent, listening.
"I can't leave you and the kids here without me for God knows how long. I have no idea what the Council is capable of, and I'm not taking that chance. I need to see everything with my own eyes."
By the time I finished speaking, I was standing right in front of her.
I wrapped my arms around her tiny frame and pulled her against my chest. She looked up at me with those chocolate-brown eyes that somehow made me fall in love with her all over again every single time.
After a long moment, she nodded. "Okay," she whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I guess we're going to Italy."
A smile spread across my own face. I tilted her chin up and kissed her gently.
She pulled back with a mischievous wink, though she stayed comfortably in my arms.
"Adriano..."
"Hm?"
"You do realize we have nine kids." She said it like a simple fact.
I nodded thoughtfully. "I remember making them." I wiggled my eyebrows.
She scoffed, laughing as she smacked my arm. "You, mister, are going to help me pack for all nine of them." She grabbed my hand before I could even protest and started pulling me toward the bedroom door.
I groaned dramatically. "Amore, I'd rather negotiate my own death sentence than pack nine suitcases."
She laughed over her shoulder. "Too bad." With one final tug, she dragged me out of the room to face the much more terrifying challenge. Packing for the Basilio family.
Alessandra Pov~
I was stuffing clothes into my suitcase because, apparently, we were all going to Italy.
Honestly...I didn't mind one bit. No school. No homework. No annoying teachers.
Yes!
The only downside was being trapped on a private jet with my crazy family for the next nine hours. I doubted anyone would survive that without losing their sanity.
Still...I'd overheard Aunt Mili telling Mom that Italy had the cutest little boutiques and designer shops. Now that had my full attention.
I smiled to myself, already imagining shopping bag after shopping bag filled with new clothes. What? I'm a shopaholic.
Sue me.
It's not exactly my fault my dad is the Capo di Capi and has billions of dollars at his disposal....Although I try not to think too hard about how he made all that money.
I physically cringed. Sometimes I honestly think I'm adopted. The scary Basilio curse? Yeah... I think it skipped right over me. I see it in all my brothers. Even my sisters have a little bit of it.
But me? I'm... different. Everyone notices it. That's why they're always trying to protect me. My mom. My uncles. My cousins. But especially my dad. He's probably the most overprotective person on the planet.
Not that I blame him. I'm his daughter. Of course he wants me safe. But sometimes I'd like to make my own decisions without having three guards, two brothers, and an uncle breathing down my neck.
I can fight.
Mom made sure every single one of us trained growing up, and once she decided we were ready, there was no getting out of it.
So yes...I know hand-to-hand combat. I know how to shoot. I know how to use knives. Pretty much every weapon imaginable. Do I carry one around with me?
No. But that doesn't mean I don't know exactly how to use one if I have to.
My phone buzzed on the bed beside me. I picked it up and frowned when I saw the screen.
**Unknown. **Again.
I'd been getting random texts from this number for about a week now. They were always weird...one or two words at most.
Not now.
Hey.
Crazy bats.
Seriously...what kind of message was "Crazy bats"? It had to be some stupid prank from school...or one of my idiot siblings trying to freak me out.
Rolling my eyes, I opened the newest message.
* Heard you're going to Italy. I'm so happy you're coming to visit me...my love.*
A shiver ran down my spine.
"Ew."
I immediately deleted the message.
Italy? Only the people in this house knew we were leaving. That had to mean one of my siblings was behind this. There was no other explanation.
Groaning, I tossed my phone onto the bed and went back to packing, throwing in my shoes, makeup bag, toothbrush, and everything else I'd need. A knock sounded at my bedroom door.
"Come in!" The door slowly opened. From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a tall figure standing in the doorway. I jumped so hard my suitcase nearly tipped over.
My heart slammed against my ribs before I finally looked up.
Dad.
He stood there with one eyebrow raised, giving me the classic Are you serious right now? look. I clutched my chest, trying to calm my racing heartbeat. "You scared me!" I exclaimed between breaths.
Dad walked into the room and sat casually on the edge of my bed beside my suitcase.
"How exactly did I scare you?" he asked, sounding completely unconcerned. "Who else did you think was standing at your bedroom door?"
I quickly zipped my suitcase shut, forcing a small laugh. "No one."
I wasn't about to tell him about the creepy texts. If I did, he'd have every hacker in the Mafia tracking down the number within the hour, and I'd probably end up with four bodyguards following me to the bathroom.
It was almost certainly one of my stupid siblings trying to make my skin crawl.
Unfortunately... It was working.
"Nothing. I guess I was just so focused on packing," I said with a shrug, hoping Dad bought my excuse.
I lifted my suitcase off the bed and set it on the floor before plopping down beside him with an exaggerated sigh.
"All done." I rested my head on his shoulder in mock exhaustion. He chuckled and wrapped an arm around me.
"You're the first one out of all your siblings to finish. Michel and Damien have barely even started." He shook his head with a smile. "See? Why can't all my kids be like you?"
I smirked. "I knew I was your favorite. I think it's time we let everyone know."
Dad laughed. "I would...but I think Callie and Cata would murder us both."
I burst out laughing. "Yeah...Lord only knows those two have murder in their blood. No doubt about it."
He smiled down at me, and I smiled right back. This was my favorite version of my dad. Not the feared Capo. Not the ruthless Mafia boss everyone whispered about. Just...Dad.
The one who laughed at stupid jokes, teased his kids, and made me feel like everything in the world was okay. When he smiled like this, I almost forgot there was a monster living inside him.
Almost.
Because I knew it never truly disappeared. It was simply sleeping...waiting until he needed it again.
"Dad?"
"Hm?"
"Why are we really going to Italy?"
His smile slowly faded, replaced by the calm seriousness I knew so well. "The Basilio Council threatened your mother." His voice was steady. "They threatened your siblings...your cousins...and you."
He paused, meeting my eyes. "I have to make sure that never happens again. My job is to protect this family."
I nodded. That was exactly who my father was. He would burn the world down before he let anything happen to us.
"But there's something I need you to understand." His tone shifted again, becoming even more serious. "You're one of the oldest, right alongside AJ. When we get to Italy, I need you to keep an eye on your brothers and sisters."
I blinked. "Me?"
He nodded. "We're going to be surrounded by the Italian Mafia. Men and women you've never met before." His expression hardened. "You and your siblings are Italian...but you're also half Russian."
He let those words settle. "They won't all like that."
A knot formed in my stomach.
"They may judge you. They may judge all of you because of who your mother is. If that happens..." He reached over and squeezed my hand. "I need you to stay strong. And I need you to help protect the younger ones."
For a moment, I couldn't speak. Dad...trusted me. Not because I was the strongest or the scariest. But because he believed I could protect our family in my own way.
I nodded firmly. "I will, Dad." looked him straight in the eye. "I'll be strong. I promise."
A proud smile spread across his face. "I know you will." He leaned over and kissed my forehead before standing. "Get some sleep. We leave first thing in the morning."
"Goodnight, Dad."
"Goodnight, sweetheart." He quietly closed the bedroom door behind him. I lay back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling with a small smile on my face.
I could do this. Then his words echoed through my mind.
They won't all like that. They may judge you because you're half Russian.
The smile slowly disappeared. Italy wasn't going to be some fun shopping trip after all. Something told me...things were about to get very messy.