“And while we’re bleeding each other dry”—her gaze returns to me—“someone else steps in and takes the corridors we’ve spent decades building.”
The words settle in the room slowly.
North Texas.Houston.Maybe even infringing on the progress we’ve made with Alessia’s family along the Gulf ports.
Money routes.Transport routes.Influence routes.
If two empires start shooting at each other, those lines fracture overnight.And whoever controls the fracture controls everything that moves through it.
Valentina’s eyes sharpen slightly.“Someone benefits.”
Dario glances toward me.
Nico is still watching her carefully.Watching every mannerism.Evaluating each statement.
Valentina’s voice lowers slightly.
“The man at the cathedral was not sent by the Russos.”She pauses and deliberately looks at Nico, then Dario, then she stands so that she can take in the entire room at one time.Again, plainly, she states, “And we did not put out a hit on Don Raffaele.”
No one moves.No one reacts.
“I am now part of your family.For better.For worse.”She looks at me, repeating our vows.“Till death do we part.”When she speaks again, a faint challenge threads through her voice.“So the question, husband, is this.Is my word good enough for you?”
Fuck.
I’m the one who’s been convinced it was her family.
My brother and cousin look at each other.
Dario shifts slightly in his chair.
Nico’s expression is thoughtful in that quiet, dangerous way that means the consigliere’s mind is already working angles we haven’t even considered yet.
Because this is no longer just about intel.
It’s about trust.
About believing the enemy.
I lean back slowly in my chair.
Study her.
My wife.
The Russo princess.
The woman who walked into a room full of Moretti men and decided she belonged there.
Most people in her position would be terrified.But God help me, I respect the hell out of her.
I lift my glass and take a slow drink.The whiskey burns warm down my throat as I keep my eyes on her.
Then I set the glass down.
“If you’re wrong,” I say evenly, “if you’re lying…”
Valentina doesn’t flinch.Not even a little.“That’s a chance you will have to take.”
