“Fuck.”Dario stands and strides to the sideboard and refills his glass before downing it in a single gulp.“Fuck.”
“Either we assassinated the head of your family and caused bloodshed in a cathedral, or we didn’t.And you either attempted to assassinate my brother this morning.Or you didn’t.”
A beat passes.
Either way, Valentina is caught in the crosshairs.And I put her there.
Goddamn it to hell.
Then Nico speaks quietly from the window.
“If what she says is true, then we have another enemy.”
Dario finishes the thought.“One that’s unseen.”
“If what I say is true, then the Russos also have an unseen enemy.”
My gaze never leaves my wife.“Whoever it is,” I say slowly, “is going to regret it.”
Outside the windows, the vineyard rows stretch dark into the Texas night.
Somewhere out there, someone thinks they’re clever enough to pit two empires against each other.
I crack my knuckles.
I hope he enjoys the feeling.
Because when we find him?—
There won’t be anything left to bury.
ChapterTwenty-Eight
Dante
Thank fuck we’re finally alone.
I love my family, but I was ready to throw them out.
This is my honeymoon, and I want Valentina.And only her.
I guide her through the bedroom door, my hand firm at the small of her back, the silk of her blouse warm beneath my palm.
The latch clicks shut behind us with a soft, decisive sound that seals the world outside—my brother, my cousin, the endless calculations of loyalty and war—leaving only this.
Only her.
Only the heavy beat of my pulse and the way the lamplight catches the dark waves of her hair now that she’s let it fall loose.
She turns toward me, those sharp, intelligent eyes steady, but I see the faint pulse at the base of her throat.
My wife.
Christ.The word still lands like a claim I never knew I needed until I had it.
I married her to stop a war, to bind the Russos to us, to avenge my father.
Now, standing here in slacks that hug her long legs and a blouse tucked neat at her waist, I see her for what she is.For who she is.Beautiful.Brilliant.Strategic.The woman who walked into a room of Moretti men—the enemy who aided and abetted in her abduction—and held her own without flinching.Like the fucking mafia princess she is.
