"I do, but I won't."
I tilted my head. "Why not?"
"Because the same jealousy you had when I was talking to those women is the same way I've been jealous of every man who gets to lay eyes on you tonight."
I opened my mouth to say something, but the intensity in his eyes stopped me. He wasn't joking. He looked deadly serious, like he was barely holding himself back from slaughtering everyone in the room.
The gala wound down,and Marco and I began to make our exit. As we approached the doors, two of Simon's men stopped us.
"Your father is waiting for you," one of them said, his voice gruff and emotionless.
I exchanged a glance with Marco, who tightened his grip on my waist. Everything was going according to plan.
We followed the men, our footsteps echoing against the marble as we turned into one of the previously locked rooms.
Simon stood there, a smug smile plastered on his face.
He stepped forward, and to my complete surprise, he ignored me.
He extended his hand towards Marco. "Mr. Torrino, it's nice to see you again."
Marco's jaw clenched. Tension radiated off him, filling the air with malice.
He stared at Simon's outstretched hand like it was something rotten and diseased.
"Why aren't you offering your hand to Catalina?" Marco said, his voice low, dangerous.
Simon chuckled. "Come now, we both know who holds the power here, and it isn't her."
Marco's body tensed, fury coiled around him, like a snake ready to strike. But before he could do anything, a bubble of laughter escaped my lips.
It started as a giggle, quickly growing into full-blown laughter. The dumbfounded look on Simon's face only made me laugh harder.
When I finally sobered up, I shook my head. "Some things never change, do they?"
I smirked, meeting Simon's gaze. "So, you tried to kidnap me to what? Get Marco's attention, thinking he'd taken Fernando's place?"
Simon's face darkened, while Marco's arm around my waist tightened.
I shrugged one shoulder. "Sorry,Dad, butI'mthe leader of the Salazar Familia now. And I hope you understand that whatever deals you had with my late husband—whom I killed, by the way, similar to how I killed your men—are null and void."
"What?" Simon shouted. His face turned beet red, only adding to my delight. "You will re-establish those deals immediately!"
I raised an eyebrow. "And why should I?"
"Because I have access to the ports," he snarled. "I can get material across them unnoticed."
My humor left me completely, the air in the room growing heavy, like I was trying to breathe in cement. "Whatmaterial?" I whispered.
Simon twirled his hand in the air. "Anything from stolen art to illegal substances."
A chill ran down my spine. "Did you ever traffic people?"
He shrugged, as if it wasn't inhumane, and he had every right to do whatever he wanted without suffering a fraction of the consequences. "I wouldn't know. It wasn't my job to know. I provided the containers, and I got them out to sea. That's it. Now?—"
"You never checked?" I yelled at him. I wanted to claw his face, shred his skin until there was nothing left so he could feel even ahintat what those that had been trafficked had.
Marco's voice was cold as ice. "No, he didn't give a shit. I'm sure he was paid for hisdiscretion."
