He needed time to think about it.Any smart man would.This would be something my father would have been against.He might be rolling over in his grave now, but if it got me closer to Mia… I’d do anything.
“You’d plant your soldiers on my territory?”he asked.
“I’d defend it,” I corrected.“Call it mutual protection.”
Everything about this meeting was taut.Men like Moretti didn’t like working alongside the younger men.But my father was killed, and when I took his place, many of the families worried.Some believe that Marco should have taken the spot, but the only way to take it from me was to kill me.And Marco didn’t have it in him.
“And what would be the price?”
I let the question hang.This was the edge where negotiations became confession.
“Trust,” I said finally.“A seat at your table.Transparency between our families.”
His brow lifted.“You don’t ask for small things.”
“I don’t waste time on trivial things.”Although, if I thought I could get him to let me marry his daughter right now, I’d bring it up.If a war started, before I got her to see that I was the man for her, then who knew when she’d finally marry me.No.She needed to come to her senses soon.
He leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice dropping low.“Anything else?”
There it was—the opening.The line I shouldn’t cross and always would for her.
“Tomorrow evening.Invite your daughter to sit beside you during the meeting.Public optics, nothing more.Let them see our families aligned.”
“Leave Mia out of this,” he said.
I met his gaze and let the truth flicker, brief as a pulse.“I can’t.”
His jaw set.“You’ve mistaken my courtesy for tolerance.”
“And you’ve mistaken it as a request.”
For a long time we just looked at each other—two men measuring how far we’d go before the shooting started again.In the end, it was Moretti who reached for his cup, breaking the stalemate.
No fucking way I’d blink.
“She will attend,” he said.“One dinner.Nothing more.”
The meeting ended on the soft scrape of chairs.
Outside, the air smelled of rain.My driver waited beside the car, engine idling, headlights slicing through the mist.I didn’t get in right away.The need for control fought for space in my chest.
Through the window I could still see Moretti, framed by the light of the dining room, speaking to one of his guards.His hand flexed once at his side.
A tremor of satisfaction, then guilt, moved through me.Marco stepped from the shadows near the car.He must have arrived once I was already inside.“How did it go?”
I flicked ash from a cigarette I hadn’t lit yet out of habit.“We have access to the docks.”
“And the girl?”
I gazed toward the mansion one last time.“She’ll be at dinner.And she’s not just the girl.She’s my future wife, damnit.”
Marco’s mouth tightened.“Careful.Moretti’s daughter isn’t ready.Right now, we need to focus on territory.”
“No, she’s the reason the territory matters.”
He needed to stop putting his nose in my personal matters.Who I marry was my fucking business.And if I wanted to wait for Mia….Then so fucking be it.Not even he could stop me.
A half-smile and a shake of his head.“When?”
