"She never said anything about—"
"Did you ask?" His voice sharpens with disappointment. "Did you ever ask about her life? About what she does all day? About why she's so capable, so trained, so ready for anything?"
"She acted helpless—"
"And you believed it. Because that's what you wanted to believe." He shakes his head slowly. "Liana Costa has been sitting in business meetings since she was ten years old. Her father trained her to run the family operations. To negotiate. To strategize. She knows this life better than most of the men in your crew."
Ten years old. She's been learning this business since she was ten years old.
"Why didn't she tell me any of this?" I ask, though I already know the answer.
"Why would she? You were planning to take over her family's operations. To run everything she'd been trained her entire life to lead. Did you ever once ask if that's what she wanted? If she had plans of her own?"
I think back through all our conversations, all the dinners, all the time we spent together. I asked about her day. She said "things." I never pushed. Never asked more questions. Never cared enough to know the details.
Because I assumed she was like every other mafia princess I'd ever met—sheltered, protected, uninterested in the actual business.
"Damn," I breathe, running my hands through my hair. "I never knew her at all."
"No, you didn't."
Silence fills the study, heavy and uncomfortable.
"What do I do now?" I ask finally, looking up at him.
He looks at me for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. Then he sighs deeply. "Honestly? Nothing."
"What?" I sit forward. "There has to be something—"
"Dominic Costa won't forgive this. Not easily. Probably not ever." He's being brutally honest now, not softening the blow. "His daughter was kidnapped on your watch. You failed to protect her when she called for help. That's not something you come back from in this world."
"There has to be something I can do—"
"Even if there was," he interrupts firmly, "Liana herself may not want anything to do with you anymore. You hurt her deeply. She trusted you with her life and you weren't there when it mattered."
The words are knives, each one finding its mark.
"That's it?" My voice rises with desperation. "I just give up? Accept defeat?"
"You move on. You find another alliance. You rebuild the business relationships we need. You—"
"I don't want another alliance." The words come out fierce and final. "I want her."
He stops mid-sentence and stares at me. "You want her," he repeats slowly, like he's testing the words. "Why?"
The directness of it throws me for a moment.
"Because—" I stop, forcing myself to really think about the answer. "Because she's brilliant. And fierce. And she saved herself tonight when no one else could have. Because she fooled me and I didn't see it coming. Because she shot a man in the kneecap without blinking and then negotiated her way out of a hostage situation like she'd done it a thousand times."
I stand, needing to move, to pace.
"Because I thought I knew what I wanted from this arrangement. A dutiful wife. Someone to run my household efficiently. Someone to give me children and stay out of mybusiness." I laugh, and it sounds bitter even to my own ears. "But that's not what I want at all anymore."
"Then what do you want?"
"I want Liana." I turn to face my father directly. "The real Liana. The one who's been trained since she was ten years old. The one who knows this business inside and out. The one who's strong enough to escape kidnappers and smart enough to play me for weeks without me catching on."
"She doesn't trust you anymore," he says quietly, stating the obvious. "Her father won't allow you anywhere near her. The alliance is over. There's no arrangement. No marriage contract. No political reason for her to give you another chance."
