But he doesn't. Instead, he drops his hand and stands abruptly, not touching his food as he steps back from the table.
"Enjoy your dinner," he says coldly, then walks out of the apartment, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the windows.
I sit alone at the table, staring at his untouched plate of lasagna, my chin still tingling from his touch.
"You're welcome for dinner, asshole," I mutter to the empty room.
But even as the words leave my mouth, I'm thinking about the way he looked at me—like he wanted to devour me and throttle me in equal measure.
The perfect mafia princess act is working a little too well. I'm getting under Marco's skin, but I'm also getting under my own.
And that's the most dangerous game of all.
CHAPTER 20
Marco
I finally catch a break,and it's a big one.
After three days of digging through financial records and following paper trails that led nowhere, I tracked down the source of the gambling debt. And guess what? It's not Elena's debt at all.
It's her father's. That rat bastard.
I'm sitting in my makeshift office—Elena's kitchen—staring at my laptop screen with a mixture of satisfaction and rage. The breakthrough came from an obscure payment on one of Elio's old credit cards, buried deep in his financial history. At first glance, it looked like a routine lease payment made out to something called "Metropolitan Real Estate Management."
Except Metropolitan Real Estate Management doesn't exist.
It took Rafa's hacking skills and my own persistence, but we finally cracked it. The company is a shell. A front operation run by none other than the Costellos. Every "lease payment" Elio made over the years was actually a debt payment to the Irish.
Fuck me.
So Elio owes the Costellos money—a lot of money based on the payment amounts—and they're using Elena as leverage. Andthey know she's connected to Vito, which might be their angle. Use the Don's "niece" to put pressure on both Elio and the Rossos. Smart, if you're a sociopathic piece of shit.
I scroll through more records. My jaw clenches tighter with each new piece of information. Elio's been making these payments for years, like some kind of twisted protection racket. Annual payments to keep the Costellos satisfied. Keep them from coming after him directly.
But the last payment was made fourteen months ago.
Fourteen months. Right around when Elena said she last heard from him.
Time's up and they're not playing games anymore. They've brought Elena into this mess, and the thought of what they might do to her makes my blood turn to acid.
The worst part? Elena doesn't even know the full scope of what she's dealing with. She thinks this is about finding her missing father, but it's so much worse than that. She's been thrown into the middle of a years-long conflict between Elio and the Irish, and she's completely outgunned.
My phone rings. Dante's name flashes on the screen. I answer without preamble.
"Tell me it's done."
"It's done. Just as you asked." His voice carries that satisfied tone he gets after completing an assignment. "Lee Rivato won't be bothering anyone ever again."
Relief floods through me. One less threat to Elena.
"Any issues?"
"None."
I lean back in my chair, running my free hand through my hair. "Thanks for the update."
"Happy to be of assistance," he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.
