Dario looks at me consideringly.“Who benefits?”
It’s the question that sits at the center of every problem worth solving.As our CFO, he believes everything relates back to money.The muscling of our territory, the assassination of our father.With power comes considerable wealth.
I lean back slightly in the chair, the leather cool against my shoulders as I stare at the faint reflections dancing in the whiskey glass on my desk.
“Who the fuck benefits?”He asks again.
While we’re occupied with the Russo and they’re fucking with us, someone else might be profiting.
Before I can answer, the door opens, and all three of us turn toward the sound.
Valentina steps inside.
Fuck me.
My wife is goddamn beautiful and fierce.
Gone is the soft dress she wore on the patio, the one that caught the breeze and made her look like something far more fragile than she actually is.
Now she’s dressed like a woman walking into a negotiation.
Black slacks cut cleanly along the length of her long legs.A silk blouse is tucked in neatly at her waist, and the fabric catches the lamplight as she moves.
She’s pulled out the pins from her updo, and now her hair falls in thick, dark waves over her shoulders.
The calm set of her posture tells me she didn’t wander in here by accident.
She’s not here as my wife.
She’s here as the powerful woman that she is.
A strategist.
For a moment no one says anything.
Then she crosses the room without hesitation and stops beside the chair opposite my desk, resting her hands lightly on the back of it as she studies the three of us in turn.
“If you’re discussing my family,” she says evenly, “I assume I should be part of the conversation.”
Dario’s mouth curves faintly.
Nico glances toward me.
Waiting.
I lift my glass and take another slow sip before answering.
“She stays.”
Neither man argues.
As matriarch, we knew and respect the fact that Gina was Raffaele’s sounding board.As communications director, Bella has become instrumental in conveying our family’s messaging.And no one is sure that Matteo would be as calm and competent as he is without Alessia at his side.She provided the emotional stability he needed as he ascended to the position of don.
Now, without waiting for an invitation, the woman I married pulls out the chair and sits.
And just like that, the balance in the room shifts.
Because if the Russos truly believe we attacked Giovanni’s convoy this morning…
