Vittoria flops onto one of the cushioned benches. "Ava knows everything that happens in Chicago, though. Don't let her modest act fool you."
I look at Ava with new interest as we sit. She smiles, neither confirming nor denying her sister-in-law's claim.
The three of us settle into easy conversation, with Vittoria sharing stories about her latest tech investments and Ava discussing her charity work. There's an openness between them I rarely experience—certainly never felt with Byron's associates.
"So, Zoe," Vittoria leans forward, "how are you really adjusting to life with the Ferettis? And don't give us the dinner table version."
I hesitate, unsure how much to reveal. "It's... different than what I expected."
"I bet," Ava says with a knowing smile. "Those men are intense. The first time I met Riccardo, I thought he was the most arrogant man I'd ever encountered."
"And now?" I ask.
"Now I know he is," she laughs, "but there's so much more beneath that."
Before I can respond, the French doors open. Damiano and Riccardo step into the garden, their silhouettes backlit by the warm light from inside.
"Ladies," Riccardo calls out. "I hope my wife and sister have been entertaining you properly, Zoe."
"Absolutely," I reply, rising from my seat.
Damiano approaches finding my hand. "We should head out, lupacchiotta."
The possessive gesture and endearment are for show, but my body still responds to his touch with a rush of warmth.
"It was lovely meeting you all," I say sincerely. "Thank you for your hospitality."
Ava embraces me. "We'll do lunch next time you're in Chicago. There's a wonderful little place in the Gold Coast I think you'd enjoy."
Vittoria gives me a quick hug. "Don't be a stranger. The testosterone gets overwhelming without female allies."
We follow Riccardo and Ava back through the house to the front entrance. After final handshakes and kisses on cheeks, Damiano guides me toward our waiting car.
"Goodnight," I call over my shoulder as we step into the cool night air.
The car door closes behind us with a solid thunk, and just like that, we're sealed away from the Sartori world and back into our own complicated reality.
I sink back against the plush leather seats of the car as we pull away from the Sartori mansion, the lights of the property fading behind us.
"They seem nice," I say, breaking the silence between us. "Ava and Vittoria, I mean."
Damiano turns to look at me, his expression softening slightly in the dim light of the car. "They are. Riccardo is lucky to have them both."
I fiddle with the clasp of my purse, trying to sound casual. "Did your business with Riccardo go well?"
His eyes linger on my face for a moment before returning to the road. "Well enough. He's interested in the casino venture, but needs time to review the details with his brothers."
I nod, filing away this information. Byron will wantto know about this casino deal—another piece in the puzzle of Damiano's empire that we're planning to dismantle. I should tell him during our next conversation.
My stomach tightens at the thought. This past week with Damiano have complicated everything. The way he looked at me tonight, possessive yet proud, introducing me to his allies... it felt almost real.
But it's not real, I remind myself. None of this is. I'm here for one reason: revenge for my father.
"We're not going back to the hotel," Damiano says suddenly, his voice cutting through my thoughts.
I sit up straighter, heart quickening. "What? Where are we going?"
His profile is sharp against the glow of passing streetlights, jaw tense as he maneuvers through Chicago's nighttime traffic. He doesn't immediately answer, which only heightens my unease.
