Edoardo exhales like it hurts. "What deal?"
"I’ll marry Sophia. And you’ll name me the capo of her widowed family rights."
Edoardo leans back in his chair, his fingers drumming impatiently against the armrest. He doesn’t look at me right away. Instead, he tilts his head toward Sophia, studying her like he’s trying to read something that’s no longer written in a language he understands.
"And what does the lady think?" he asks dryly. "Do you want to marry your bodyguard?"
Sophia doesn’t hesitate. "No," she says smoothly. "I want to marryRaffael DeSantis,a man who has donemore to protect me than my own blood ever did. Or you."
The slap of her words echoes louder than any gunshot.
Edoardo grits his teeth, and for a second, I think he might lunge across the desk, but there’s too much calculation in his eyes. He’s not impulsive. He’s dangerous in the way cornered men are: methodical, spiteful, and desperate to save face.
He looks at me again. "You want to be the capo of a family that was gutted. The family you killed?"
"I think it gets me exactly what I want," I reply. "Control over what matters. Her. And enough leverage that no one tries anything stupid."
He barks a laugh, and it sounds sharp and bitter. "You think you’re clever."
"No," I say, dead serious. "I think I’m done waiting."
Edoardo’s smile fades. He studies me, tapping one finger against the desk like a metronome ticking off the seconds to violence. "The other capos won’t like it," he says finally. "They’ll know you killed Roberto."
I raise an eyebrow. "Who knows? Most of them don’t even know I exist."
That makes him pause.
Sophia told me last night that the capos might object. Might scream. Might threaten to pull their support. But mostly? They’d be angry withEdoardo. For letting thingsslip so far. For failing to protect his bloodline. For hiding a threat he didn’t see coming. For not protecting Roberto.
"You’re the Don," I say. "They’ll do as you say."
His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t argue as his gaze swings to Sophia. "You will do as told? Marry this man, not pull a stunt at the altar?"
I resent the way Edoardo is talking to Sophia and am about to tell him, when Sophia rises to stand by my side. "I know where my loyalties lie, Don Edoardo."
The way she looks at him makes me want to choke the bastard.
"I can talk to Marcello; once he knows I'm happy, he won't object, and my father… as we know, is dead." She trails off.
"Fine," Edoardo concedes. He stands and holds out his hand. "Welcome to the family, Capo Raffael DeSantis." I take it and shake, because Sophia's manners are rubbing off on me. But Edoardo and I both know that this is only the beginning of our little game. I'm not done, and neither is he. "I'll announce it at the next meeting."
"Well, that went well,"I say with a laugh as we slide back into the SUV’s leather interior, while a guard shuts the door behind us.
I buckle my seatbelt, and the smooth hum of the engine starts beneath us. Raffael turns his head slowly, looking at me like I’ve just lost my mind. I can’t help it—I laugh again.
"For now," I add, flashing him a smile that’s half sarcasm, half adrenaline. "You didn’t actually think he’d pull the trigger, did you?"
He doesn’t answer right away. Just watches me with that unreadable expression back on his face, the one I know means he’s cataloging every move, every breath, every risk still hovering in the air.
I reach for his hand.
"You were perfect," I say softly, lacing my fingers through his. "He’s never had someone look him in the eye like that and not blink."
His grip tightens around mine, just enough for me to feel the pulse in his wrist. Just enough to tell me he needed to hear that.
But his voice is low and cautious. "We can’t underestimate him."
I nod. "We won’t. He’s dangerous. And he’s not done." I lean back against the seat; the leather feels cool against my spine. "He might’ve smiled at the end, but he’s already thinking of ways to get ahead. Probably three steps ahead."
