I closed my eyes, but that only made it worse. Behind my eyelids, I saw her again. All that glorious, pale skin flushing pink with embarrassment, auburn hair tumbling from a loose knot, those beautiful eyes wide with startlement then more embarrassment when I'd given her my name. The slight tremor in her hands as she'd gathered her scattered belongings told me she probably feared losing her job. Or me. Probably both. The unexpected shock I'd felt when our fingers had brushed shouldn’t have unnerved me, but did.
"Ridiculous," I muttered to the glass, my breath creating a small cloud that vanished almost instantly. Women had never been complicated for me. They were transactions, like everything else in my life. Some required money deposited directly into accounts, some preferred apartments or jewelry, but all understood the arrangement. I selected them carefully for their beauty, their ability to be discreet, and their understanding that I was emotionally unavailable. I never felt this... unsettled.
The sound of the door opening pulled me from my thoughts. I didn't turn, knowing from the measured footsteps exactly who had entered. "Marcus," I acknowledged, straightening my shoulders and shifting mental gears. Business. This was what mattered. Not some waitress with an unusual name and eyes that reminded me of summer forests.
"Dario," Marcus replied, his voice even. He'd been with me longer than anyone. Marcus was someone I relied on. He was more than my bodyguard. He was one of my best, most trusted friends.
I turned from the window, my face a mask of professional detachment. "What news from Matteo?"
Marcus moved to stand before my desk, hands clasped behind his back in his customary stance. "Matteo's men have been tracking the Rossi brothers.” He scowled as he continued. “Vincent Rossi has been expanding his territory along the western edge of the harbor. Three businesses there have changed hands in the past month, all now showing paperwork linking back to shell companies we believe he controls." Marcus spoke with clinical precision. "He's also been seen meeting with council members Jordan and Reeves on three separate occasions."
I frowned, studying a photograph of Vincent emerging from an expensive steakhouse, his distinctive silver-headed cane gleaming in the sunlight. The man moved with a predator's grace despite his limp, always dressed impeccably, always smiling. I'd never trusted men who smiled that fucking much.
"The council members," I said. "What are they offering him?"
"Rezoning, according to Matteo's source at City Hall. The old warehouse district."
I tapped my fingers against the polished surface of my desk. The warehouse district was strategically valuable, close to shipping lanes, largely abandoned, and conveniently under minimal police surveillance. I'd been considering making moves there myself.
"And Anthony?" I asked, referring to Vincent's younger brother, the calculating one who operated in the shadows while Vincent played the charismatic figurehead.
"Less visible, as always. But Matteo's sources indicate he's been coordinating meetings with some of our distributors." Marcus's expression remained neutral, but I caught the slight tension in his jaw. "Offering better rates."
"Trying to cut into our supply chains," I mused, unsurprised but irritated. "And the youngest one? Marco?"
"That's where things get interesting." Marcus reached for the file, flipping to a series of photos near the back. "He's been seen frequently atThe Black Rose."
I raised an eyebrow.The Black Rosewas a high-end gambling establishment owned by Leo Conti, a neutral party in our ongoing cold war with the Rossi family. Leo had always been careful to maintain equal distance from both our organizations, playing Switzerland to our warring nations.
"Is he gambling, or talking?"
"Talking. With Leo himself. Private room, hours at a time." That was concerning. Leo Conti had resources, connections that extended beyond the city. If the Rossis were cultivating him as an ally rather than a neutral party... "There’s more," Marcus continued. “The activity at Pier 17 has become a problem."
The mention of Pier 17 made me sit up straighter. It was one of our quieter import locations, carefully managed to stay beneath both official and criminal radar but because of its function as an overflow seaport, Pier 17 was the perfect cover for our sea fearing cargo to enter without being molested.
"What kind of activity?"
"Surveillance." Marcus's voice dropped slightly. "Two men, rotating shifts, watching the comings and goings. They've been there for three days."
"Vincent?"
"The equipment matches what his people typically use. High-end, but not military grade. Felix said he was going to hack them. Find out who they are, what exactly they’re looking at, and what we need to prepare for."
I stood, walking back to the window. The implications were clear. The Rossis were making moves against us on multiple fronts. “No doubt Vincent headed a coordinated strategy, thekind that preceded either a major negotiation play or outright conflict.”
Marcus grunted. “I agree. I’ll make sure Vittorio is up to speed. Alessandro too.”
“Matteo might have some people who can keep their eyes open. See if he can get a few trusted keeping an eye out. They don’t need to engage, just report to Matteo.”
“Understood.”
"Double the security at the pier, too," I said after a moment. "But make it subtle. I want to know what they're planning before we show our hand."
"Already on that." Marcus waved me off. “Second thing I did after calling Felix.”
I nodded, appreciating as always his anticipation of my commands. This was how we'd survived, how we'd thrived when other families had fallen. Each man played his role perfectly—Marcus with security, Matteo gathering intelligence, Vittorio planning our moves, Alessandro handling legal matters both domestic and international, Gabriel keeping our legitimate businesses thriving. Together we maintained control through money and respect. Even our enemies acknowledged our power. We’d been at the top of the food chain for a very long time for good reason. Something Rossi would soon find out.
"Dario..." Marcus hesitated, something unusual enough to make me turn and face him fully. His expression had shifted, a slight furrow appearing between his brows. "The new waitress."
