Alessandro
I stare at Marco Vitale across my desk, his expression not as jovial as the last time he sat there and made a deal he never intended to keep.
"I trust we can put past misunderstandings behind us," Marco says, straightening his silk tie. His son Enrico sits beside him in designer clothes reeking of entitlement and ambition.
Roberto, my consigliere, shifts slightly beside me.
Perhaps he’s wondering if I’m going to end this meeting right now with bloodshed.
I’d be well within my rights.
Along with double-crossing me, he had the nerve to send a disposable soldier to propose a new alliance that included Marco’s daughter as part of the deal.
The disrespect Marco has shown me burns in my gut.
My thoughts drift to the day when Marco's messenger stood before me making his boss’s case.
"Your boss is offering an alliance through marriage," I had told the man, "yet he couldn't be bothered to make this proposal to me himself?"
The soldier had cleared his throat. I’m sure he knew all about killing the messenger.
I leaned forward, liking how he shifted nervously. "Tell Marco he's fortunate I'm not my brother. I’m sure you’ve heard how Adriano answered a Bratva message with the head of the messenger."
I’d let him go, and Marco clearly got the message as he’s now sitting across from me. The fact that he’s here shows he needs me or at least thinks he can dupe me again.
But he also knows my own situation.
The empire my father built teeters on the edge of collapse after the Bratva's assault.
Our numbers are diminished.
Adriano is still my right-hand man, but with a new marriage and baby on the way, he has distractions he hadn’t before.
My other brother Luca is in Chicago after my father banished him.
He might have come back after my father’s death, but he has his own organization now.
"You remember the last time we sat in a room like this, Marco?" I tap my fingers on the table, wanting to suggest boredom at his wasting my time. "Just a few months back, you sat there with similar propositions of 'peace'."
Marco's smile remains fixed, but it’s as fake as his word.
"You thought you'd found allies in the Bratva against me. Believed your little arrangement with Ivan would deliver my business to you." I lean forward. "How’d that work out for you?" It hadn’t.
We’d gotten word at what Ivan was planning against us and were ready with our own attack.
As soon as Marco realized what was going on, he retreated, but not before I knew his true intentions.
He’s been working against me, not with me.
Enrico's jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say anything.
"Ancient history." Marco waves his hand dismissively. "We're here to discuss the future. A unified front. My proposal is simple." Marco leans forward and begins to rattle off his proposal, most of which sounds familiar from the last time he’d been here.
“You know that old saying… fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me twice, shame on me? Why would I leap at the chance to ally with a man who's proven his word means nothing?
" I lean back in my chair, maintaining the appearance of control even as I fantasize of killing both these men right here, right now.
Marco's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Let's be frank, Alessandro. The Bratva may be fractured, but they've left you bleeding. Half your men are dead or scattered. Your territories are vulnerable, your shipments understaffed. The other families are watching."
"Is that a threat?" I ask, my tone conversational but deadly.
Marco raises his hands in mock surrender. "An observation. I could move against you—we both know it. Instead, I'm offering peace."
I laugh derisively. "Peace. From you."
Roberto shifts beside me, a subtle reminder of what the elders have been whispering.
Another war now would devastate what remains of my father's empire.
We need time to rebuild, to strengthen our position.
But I’d rather slit my own throat than align with this snake.
"If I want alliances, Marco, I have options. Families with honor. Men whose words can be trusted."
Enrico bristles at this, but Marco places a restraining hand on his son's arm. The boy has his father's temper without any of his restraint.
"Which is precisely why I'm prepared to offer something more substantial than words." Marco leans forward. "Collateral."
"What could you possibly have that would interest me?"
"My daughter," he says simply. "Isabella. In marriage."
I keep my face impassive, though internally, I'm recalculating.
A marriage alliance.
Traditional.
Binding.
The elders would approve as it would prevent immediate bloodshed and buy time to stabilize our position.
"You'd sell your daughter to secure your safety?" I ask, testing him.
Marco shrugs. "I'd unite our families to ensure peace. She's eighteen, educated, and bred for this purpose. The elders on both sides would respect such a union. And it’s proof of my commitment to the proposition of peace. We both know neither of us can afford war right now."
He's right, thought I won’t admit it to him. I need time, not another front to defend.
But I can’t trust him. Any Don who’ll sell his daughter to the man he’s spent a great deal of time and effort to destroy doesn’t think much of his daughter.
She’s likely as disposable as that soldier he sent with a message last time.
"No."
"No?" Marco repeats, his confidence faltering. "Perhaps I wasn't clear—"
"Crystal clear. The answer is no." I lean forward, eyes hard, letting him know I’m done with his bullshit. "I have no interest in marriage, Marco. Not to your daughter, not to anyone."
Enrico's face flushes with indignation. “You have no heirs.”
"If something happens to me, Adriano will step in. He’ll have children soon, or Luca has a son. My legacy is secure without breeding more Dantes."
Marco's lips press into a thin line. "You're making a mistake, Alessandro. This alliance would strengthen both our families."
“No smart man brings the fox into the henhouse, which is my way of saying I don’t trust you.”
Marco rises slowly, straightening his suit jacket. "Think about it. The offer remains open. For now."
I don't stand as they leave, watching as Roberto shows them out.
When the door closes, I exhale slowly.
I’m so tired of this bullshit.
I enjoy running our family business, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep it safe and running, but I am tired of the threats and wars.
Roberto returns, silently pouring me a drink before taking his own seat.
"You handled that well," he says, but his tone betrays him. His thirty years as my father's right-hand and now mine have given me the ability to read the disapproval in his voice.
I take a slow sip, letting the whiskey burn. "Say what's on your mind, Roberto."
"The marriage proposal deserves consideration. We're vulnerable. The men know it. Our enemies smell it."
"Marco Vitale is a snake." I set the glass down. "He'd use this marriage to worm his way into our operation, find our weaknesses."
"Undoubtedly." Roberto nods. "Just as you would use it to identify his."
I pause, studying the amber liquid in my glass.
"It works both ways, Alessandro." Roberto leans forward. "Your father understood that. There’s that other saying. Keep your friends close, your enemies closer."
"My father would have already put a bullet between Marco's eyes."
"Your father wasn't facing what you're facing." His voice drops. "The elders are restless. Half our territories are understaffed. We need time to rebuild. This marriage buys that time."
"And sells a woman into what? Being my prisoner?"
"Being your wife," Roberto corrects. "The daughter could prove useful.”
“Yes, but to whom? If she is as clever as rumor has it, Marco will use her against us. If she’s not, she’s just a shiny object Marco hopes will distract me.”
“She’s still just a woman. You can keep her from her father. Perhaps use her against him.”
“He won’t give a shit what I do to her.”
“But she’ll have information. Women usually see and understand more than men give them credit for.”
He’s not wrong. My sister, Valentina, is observant and intelligent.
“You don’t have to act like a married couple, although I hear she’s quite beautiful—”
“She’s eighteen,” I snap. It feels perverted.
“That makes her an adult. The point is, she’s under your control, whatever you want to do to her.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
“It means you don’t have to be a husband if you don’t want to. Just give her room and board. Use what she knows against her father.”
I see the wisdom of this, even as the idea of marrying anyone, but especially the daughter of a man I can’t trust, makes my skin crawl.
“Another thing to consider is that the alliance gives the appearance that Don Vitale is beholden to you. No man gives his daughter unless he’s groveling. This makes you look stronger to all the other families.”
Of all the arguments, I like that one best. “What do we know about her?”
He pours another finger of whiskey. "Only that she's brilliant. Educated. Speaks multiple languages." He takes a sip. "And rarely seen in public."
It’s clear that from birth, Marco saw her as a commodity.
It probably galls him that he has to offer her to me instead of someone else who might be more advantageous.
"Your father would understand this choice," Roberto says. "He made many marriages within the families to secure peace."
"Not his own," I counter.
"No. But he didn't inherit an empire on the brink of collapse, either."
My father's death at the hands of the Bratva left a vacuum.
Luca was already ostracized and building his own business in Chicago, although he’d returned briefly at the request of my sister, and in the chaos that followed him, as it usually does, he killed several Bratva and rediscovered the love of his life.
A life he still lives in Chicago.
Adriano has been a perfect second in command, but he has other commitments in his life now.
"Fine," I finally say, nearly choking on the word. "Make the arrangements. Tell Marco I accept his offer."
Roberto doesn't smile, but I do see relief in his eyes. "It's the right move, Alessandro."
"The necessary one.” I finish my drink. “But make my terms clear.
This marriage is business, nothing more.
I won't be manipulated through her. And if Marco tries to use this connection to undermine me, I'll put a bullet in her skull myself and send her back with a promise that he and Enrico are next.”
"Of course." Roberto nods, already standing to leave. "I'll make the call."
Left alone, I rub my temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. The great Alessandro Dante, committed bachelor, is now being dragged into marriage.
Fuck.
Don’t get me wrong.
I like women just fine.
I gave my sister a great deal of involvement in the family business because I respected her intelligence.
Granted, I fucked up when I tried to marry her off to Maksim.
It’s why she’s in Chicago with her husband and new son working with Luca.
What I don’t need is to be permanently attached to a woman.
What is the point?
I have staff to care for the house and make any social arrangements.
If I need to fuck, I can find a woman or my hand will do. I don’t need children, as my siblings clearly plan to have broods.
But if this gets my elders off my back, gives me eyes on Marco and the time I need to rebuild, I’ll marry Isabella Vitale.