Which means yes, security will be extensive, but he doesn't want me knowing the specifics. I file that away too.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The Lamborghini Urus purrs beneath us as we glide through Chicago's downtown streets. Behind us, two black SUVs follow at a discreet distance—Noah and Alessio in one, four of my best men in the other. I catch Zoe eyeing the rearview mirror.
"They'll keep their distance at Riccardo's," I say, shifting gears smoothly. "The Sartoris respect their privacy as much as we do."
Zoe's fingers trace the leather dashboard. "This isn't exactly subtle."
I smirk. "This is Chicago. Nothing's subtle here." I glance at her—her green dress hugs her curves perfectly, making her eyes seem even more vibrant. "Beautiful women deserve beautiful things."
She turns to me, one eyebrow raised. "So I'm one of your things now?"
"You know what I mean." I focus back on the road. "Riccardo has a wife, Ava. Smart woman. Helps him run their legitimate ventures."
"Tell me more about the Sartoris," she says.
"Riccardo has a sister, Vittoria. Headstrong, brilliant with tech. Four brothers too, but Alessio mentioned it'll just be the three of them tonight—Riccardo, Ava, and Vittoria."
"Sounds intimate."
"It is. Riccardo always does this—informal dinner first, business later. Every brother follows the same pattern." I slow as we approach a red light. "My father always said breaking bread comes before breaking deals."
I feel her studying my profile. "You trust them that much?"
"They're Italian, like us. Old country values." The light changes, and I accelerate smoothly. "My father trusted Santo Sartori. That's enough for me."
"Family loyalty above all," she murmurs.
"Exactly." I reach over, my hand resting briefly on her thigh. "Tonight, we're just two couples getting acquainted."
"And what's my role in all this?"
I turn onto Lake Shore Drive, the water glittering to our right under the setting sun. "Be yourself. Ava's sharp—she'll see through any act. Vittoria too."
"Myself?" She laughs softly. "Careful what you wish for."
I squeeze her thigh gently. "The version of yourself would be preferable."
Her eyes widen slightly, but she recovers quickly, a small smile playing on her lips. "I'll see what I can do."
We pull up to the Sartori estate, a sprawling limestone mansion nestled behind wrought iron gates that swing open as we approach. Security cameras track our movement, nearly invisible among the carefully manicured hedges. Riccardo's security rivals mine—as it should.
I kill the engine and turn to Zoe, who's checking her reflection in the visor mirror.
"You look perfect," I tell her.
"I wasn't asking for your approval." But there's less bite in her words than usual.
I reach out, tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear. Her skin warms under my touch. "Remember, these people matter to me. To us."
Her eyes meet mine, challenging but not hostile. Progress.
"Smile like you mean it," I say, leaning closer until my lips brush her ear. "Everything's going to be okay. You've faced worse than dinner with the Sartoris."
"Like marrying you?" The corner of her mouth twitches.
I laugh despite myself. "Exactly like that."
