"I trust Lucrezia to tell me everything." I take another drag. "Besides, it keeps Zoe occupied."
I think of yesterday afternoon, catching sight of them in the garden. Zoe's head thrown back in laughter at something Lucrezia said, sunlight catching in her blonde hair. The way her dress hugged curves that my hands itch to explore.
I want to bend her over this desk until she screams my name. Until those defiant eyes glaze with pleasure and that sharp tongue begs for more.
"Earth to Damiano," Enzo waves a hand in front of my face. "Where the fuck are you today?"
I straighten in my chair, pushing the image away. "Right here. The Colombian situation needs handling. Send Ricci to meet with them."
"You look distracted," Enzo says, narrowing his eyes at me. "Something wrong?"
The concern in his voice is laced with suspicion. My brother knows me too well—knows I never loseconcentration during business discussions. Not until recently, anyway.
"Nothing's wrong," I say, crushing out my cigar with more force than necessary. "Just considering all angles of the Colombian situation."
Alessio watches me, his eyes missing nothing. His silence is more unnerving than Enzo's questions.
"Bullshit," Enzo leans forward. "You haven't heard a word we've said for the last five minutes. Is it the new wife? Is she causing problems?"
I don't want to discuss Zoe with them—don't want to admit that thoughts of her keep invading my focus at inappropriate moments.
"Let's keep talking business," I say firmly, pulling the stack of papers toward me. "The Colombians are just the beginning. What's the situation with the dock workers' union? And the Queens territory Easton promised—have we started moving our people in?"
Alessio exchanges a glance with Enzo but mercifully takes my cue. "The union leader is being difficult. Wants more than we initially offered."
"Double what we offered, but make it clear it's a one-time adjustment," I say, grateful for the return to familiar territory. "As for Queens, I want us to move cautiously. Easton gave up that territory too easily."
The rhythm of business steadies me. This is what I know—what I control completely. Not the unpredictable green-eyed storm currently living under my roof.
"We should do a sweep of the area first," Enzo suggests. "Make sure we're not walking into a trap."
I nod. "Send our best people. And I want daily reports."
This is better. The world aligning as it should, with me at the center, pulling the strings. Not thoughts ofblonde hair spread across my pillow or defiant eyes that see too much.
"Now," I say, "tell me about the shipment coming in next week."
My heart hammers against my ribs as I press my ear to the heavy oak door of Damiano's office. I hadn't planned this—was just walking by when I heard the Colombians mentioned. Now I'm frozen in place, barely breathing, straining to catch every word.
"...the Colombians can wait," comes Damiano's voice, deep and commanding even through the barrier between us.
I shift my weight, careful not to make a sound. This is exactly what I need—proof of his criminal dealings, information I can feed back to Byron. Every detail matters.
"...trust her with Lucrezia?" Alessio's voice, though I can barely make it out.
My pulse quickens. They're talking about me.
"I trust Lucrezia to tell me everything," Damiano says, his voice clearer now. "Besides, it keeps Zoe occupied."
Heat rises to my cheeks. Of course he'd use his sister to spy on me. I've been playing right into his hands, thinking my time with Lucrezia was building useful alliances.
The conversation shifts back to business. I catch fragments about dock workers and Queens territory. My fingers itch for my phone to record this, but I hadn't come prepared. Next time I will.
"...Double what we offered, but make it clear it's a one-time adjustment," Damiano's voice drifts through. "As for Queens, I want us to move cautiously. Easton gave up that territory too easily."
Queens territory. The agreement with Byron. I need to tell him they're suspicious.
My heart nearly stops as footsteps echo down the hallway. Someone's coming. I straighten up, panic flooding my system as I frantically search for an excuse to be standing outside Damiano's office like some desperate eavesdropper.
