“Two weeks ago, a woman surfaced at the Monarch. An entertainer. Called herself Bianca. The thing is, I met her two years ago,and I knew her as Lilly.” I scan the room, measuring every expression. “But her real name is Zara Kavanagh.”
That gets their attention.
All talking dies. Eyes sharpen. Gio drops his lighter.
“She’s Lachlan’s daughter,” Lars says, filling in the silence with just enough fire to keep them listening. “Been off-grid for years. Reappeared when Declan went down. Hospital staff confirmed she was at his bedside. Then she vanished.”
“Taken,” I say. “And not by us.”
Marco clears his throat, breaking the tension with a scoff that doesn’t quite hide the edge in his voice. “So what? She’s Irish blood. Let them sort it out. Doesn’t sound like our problem.”
I shift forward, both palms flat on the table. My voice drops. “It became our problem the second I met her.”
The room stills.
“She’s not just Lachlan Kavanagh’s daughter.” I let the words settle before finishing. “She’s going to be my wife.”
Chairs creak as a few men lean in, expressions shifting from confusion to calculation. Lars lifts his glass, unbothered.
“She’s the future Madrina of this family,” I say, and this time, there’s no mistaking the steel in my voice. “That makes her one of us.”
A few heads turn. The silence is loaded. Because this changes everything.
A beat passes before Lucio leans forward, elbows braced on the table. “You’re talking about marrying the daughter of your enemy,” he says, voice cool. “Are you sure this isn’t personal?”
I don’t falter. “Itispersonal.”
That earns a ripple of tension. The men shift, glancing at one another. I let them.
“She fooled you once, didn’t she?” Marco presses, testing the edge. “You didn’t even know who she was. What makes you so sure she isn’t still playing you?”
I smile. “She had every chance to gut me. Every chance to hand me over. She didn’t.”
“Just because she didn’t take you down in the time you’ve known her doesn’t mean they aren’t setting a trap,” someone else mutters.
“She came back,” I counter, gaze narrowing. “Right when her brother was dying. She showed up alone after being off grid for almost seven years. No entourage, no warning, no protection.”
Gio lifts a brow. “And that makes you trust her enough to put a ring on her finger and bring her into your family? Into your business?”
“No,” I say evenly. “That’s not why.”
He waits, but I don’t give him more. Just hold his stare until he looks away.
Lars leans forward now, voice casual but aimed. “Then what is it, Enzo? You want to make a statement? Send a message to Lachlan? Or is this about something else?”
I take a breath, my fingers tapping once against the table.
“She risked her life leaving that family when she did. She built a life in hiding. Didn’t ask for help. Didn’t look for favors.”
The room is quiet now.
I lean back in my chair, eyes cutting across the men who sit before me.
“I’ve seen beauty. I own a club full of it. But her?” I pause. “She’s something else entirely.”
Another silence, heavier this time.
“With what I know, I’m assuming she’s in enemy hands,” I continue. “And we’re going to bring her home. But not by kicking in the front door. We’re going to dismantle the Kavanaghs from the inside. Quietly. Precisely. Weaken their structure. Isolate their leadership. Break their power without breaking the alliance web.”
