Chapter Eight CHIARA #2
The dining room behind Sergio was massive, all dark marble and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Breakfast had already been laid out across the table like something from a luxury hotel. Fresh fruit. Pastries. Espresso. Silver trays still steaming.
It should’ve looked warm. Instead it felt like another prison inside Leo’s kingdom. Another cage.
Sergio finally slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Doctor’s on his way.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Did either of you actually listen to me?”
“No,” Sergio replied easily.
Leo stepped closer before I could respond again. Not enough to touch me, but enough that the heat of him wrapped around my body anyway.
“You’re injured,” he said quietly. “That makes it my business.”
“It’s not your business.” I raised my chin. “I don’t want a fucking doctor.”
“The mouth on this one,” Sergio muttered, still on his phone.
“It became my business the second I put that ring on your finger,” Leo reminded me.
“The ring I never asked for,” I hissed. “Call off the doctor or I’ll… kill you.”
Sergio let out a laugh, making me even angrier. I took a step closer to Leo, ignoring what his closeness was doing to my heart. “I mean it. Call it off. My father already had me treated for the snake bite, and so have you. I’ve been putting those salves on.”
“If I call it off,” Leo replied easily. “You sleep in my bed tonight.”
My stomach tightened violently. God, I hated when he talked like that. Like ownership was inevitable. Permanent. Like he truly believed every part of me already belonged to him.
Sergio pulled out a chair at the table and looked between us with visible exhaustion.
“I’m begging you both,” he muttered. “Please sit down before the sexual tension gives me a fucking migraine.”
Leo didn’t laugh. That somehow made the threat between us feel more real. His eyes stayed on mine, dark and steady, like he was already imagining exactly how that would play out. Me in his bed. Beneath him. Trapped there by my own stubborn mouth.
Then, calmly, he reached into his pocket and took out his phone.
“Sergio,” he said without looking away from me. “Cancel the doctor.”
I blinked. Sergio looked up slowly. “Seriously?”
“She says she’s fine.” Something victorious flared briefly in my chest. Then Leo added smoothly, “If she collapses later, I’ll carry her to my bed myself.”
The victory died. Sergio muttered something in Italian under his breath before texting whoever he’d contacted. “You’re getting soft.”
“I’m getting a headache,” Leo bit back.
“Yeah, me too,” his loser friend sighed.
Leo finally moved around me toward the table, and I hated how aware I was of him passing behind me. The heat of his body. The expensive scent of his cologne. The sheer size of him. “Sit down, Chiara.”
I stayed standing just to annoy him. Sergio leaned against the chair across from me, studying me with open skepticism now.
“You know,” he said casually, “I still don’t understand why he picked you.”
I frowned, glaring at him with so much rage it should’ve ignited him on the spot. No such luck.
“You’re tiny. Mouthy. Spoiled.” His gaze dragged over me. “Too young.”
“I’m eighteen,” I hissed.
“Exactly.” He looked at Leo. “Boss, respectfully, she looks like she should still be asking permission to go to parties.”
Heat rushed into my face. Leo sat at the head of the table, completely relaxed. “And yet here she is.”
Sergio smirked slightly. “Barefoot and threatening to kill you before breakfast.”
“I can hear you,” I snapped.
“I know. That’s what makes this fun,” he laughed. I folded my arms tighter across my chest. Sergio continued like he was dissecting a business problem instead of talking about me. “She’s inexperienced. Stubborn. Probably high maintenance.”
“I am not stubborn,” I hissed.
“You refused medical treatment out of spite,” Sergio reminded me. “That’s the definition of fucking stubborn.”
Leo took a slow sip of espresso, watching us over the rim of the cup with infuriating calm.
“And,” Sergio added thoughtfully, “I still don’t think she’s enough for you.”
The words hit harder than they should have. Not enough. Like I was some disappointing object Leo had accidentally brought home. I looked away first, furious that the comment stung at all. Sergio noticed.
“Aw,” he mocked lightly. “Did I hurt the little fiancée’s feelings?”
“I don’t care what you think,” I said, feigning disinterest.
“Sure you don’t,” Sergio chuckled.
Leo finally spoke, voice low and dangerous. “Enough.”
Sergio lifted both hands innocently. “What? I’m helping.”
“You’re irritating me,” Leo replied.
I should’ve stayed quiet. Instead, anger burst out of me sharp and reckless. “At least I’m not some emotionless attack dog following him around all day.”
Sergio barked out a laugh. Leo’s mouth twitched faintly.
“Oh, she’s got claws,” Sergio said. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet, little wifey. You’re not completely spineless.”
“Whoever told you I was spineless,” I hissed, glancing at Leo. “Was a liar.”
“Mm.” Sergio tilted his head at me. “Then prove it.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” he drawled, “if you’re really brave enough to handle my boss, accept his invitation to the bedroom tonight.”
The entire room went still. My pulse slammed against my ribs. Leo didn’t move. Didn’t interrupt. But all his attention shifted onto me so heavily I could practically feel it against my skin. Sergio smirked when I didn’t answer.
“That’s what I thought,” he drawled.
Humiliation burned through me. I lifted my chin. “Fine.”
Both men went quiet.
“I’ll do it,” I said, forcing the words out. “Maybe then he’ll finally get bored of me.”
Sergio stared at me for a second before laughing under his breath. “Jesus Christ.”
Leo set his espresso cup down carefully. Too carefully. Something dark flickered behind his eyes now. Hunger. Possession. Satisfaction.
“You shouldn’t make promises lightly, Chiara,” he said softly.
My stomach flipped violently. When he called me by my name, I could barely control myself. It sounded so different coming from his lips. Like I was some kind of prized dog he couldn’t wait to show off.
Before I could answer, Sergio pulled out another chair with a dramatic sigh. “Sit. Eat. Before foreplay turns into a hostage negotiation.”
I sat mostly because my legs felt weak. Leo remained at the head of the table while Sergio took the seat across from me. The two of them fell into conversation easily after that, speaking with the familiarity of men who had survived ugly things together.
But I noticed Sergio still never fully relaxed around Leo. Not fear exactly. Respect. The dangerous kind, the kind that knew what his boss was capable of if he disobeyed.
“Santino called again this morning,” Sergio said, reaching for coffee. “Third time since yesterday.”
Leo cut into his food without interest. “Ignore him.”
“That’s getting harder now that Angelo’s backing him publicly,” Sergio sighed. At the mention of another name, Leo’s expression cooled further. I stayed quiet, listening.
“Santino and Angelo?” I asked eventually. Leo looked at me once, measuring whether to answer.
“My cousins,” he said finally.
“Twins,” Sergio added. “Unfortunately. Would be easier with just one traitor.”
“They want my father’s territory, I presume,” Leo spoke again, addressing his friend.
“They think they deserve it,” Sergio corrected dryly. “Because they share DNA with the Moretti name.”
“And because my father’s dead,” Leo said flatly. “And they think they can get away with anything now.”
I stared at the table in front of me, realizing I barely knew anything about Leo.
I didn’t even know his father was dead. Papa often talked about business, but rarely about the Morettis.
It seemed everyone in my world was terrified of that family.
I knew there were a couple of players involved, but the most I found out was there was one heir - Leo.
That made him the most dangerous one of all, because it meant he controlled everything.
I looked between them carefully. “So your cousins are trying to challenge you?”
Sergio snorted. “Sweetheart, they’ve been trying since the funeral.”
“They’re causing problems with our packages,” Leo said. “Pushing into shipments. Leaning on businesses that already belong to me.”
“Mostly near the docks,” Sergio added. “Which have become a fucking headache.”
Leo’s jaw tightened slightly. “The east waterfront isn’t worth the trouble anymore.”
I frowned slightly, thinking. Papa used to talk business at dinner constantly, assuming I wasn’t paying attention. But I had. Every word.
“The old warehouse district?” I asked slowly. Both men looked at me now.
“Yes,” Leo said carefully.
“That area’s dead,” I shrugged. “Papa always said that.”
Sergio raised a brow. “We know.”
“No.” I leaned forward slightly. “I mean truly dead. The city’s been planning redevelopment there for over a year. They’re going to take over soon, and then you won’t have a business there anymore.”
Leo’s attention sharpened.
I continued before I lost my nerve. “Luxury condos. New zoning permits. Property taxes will skyrocket the second construction starts.”
Sergio stopped eating, swirling his coffee in the cup while giving me a curious look.
“And?” Leo asked quietly.
“And your cousins probably don’t know that yet.” My pulse quickened as both men stared at me. “Offer them partial control in the docks. They’ll have no idea it’s wasted land.”
Sergio blinked once. I kept going. “Make it look like a compromise. A peace offering. Let them think they’re winning part of the city.”
Understanding slowly spread across Sergio’s face.
“They’ll pour money into protecting territory that’s about to become unusable,” he murmured.
“And while they’re distracted,” I said softly, “you strengthen the profitable areas they actually should’ve fought for.”
Complete silence followed. Then Sergio leaned back in his chair slowly, staring at me differently now. Not warmly, but no longer dismissively.
“Well,” he muttered. “That’s an interesting fucking idea. Make them think we’re working with them, but give them nothing but a wasteland.”
Leo hadn’t looked away from me once. There was something unreadable in his expression now. Something darker than amusement. Pride.
“You’ve been listening to men talk business your whole life,” he said.
It wasn’t a question. I swallowed. “My father liked pretending I wasn’t intelligent enough to understand him.”
Leo’s gaze dragged over my face slowly. “He was wrong. And I think you’ve earned a reward now, Chiara.”