Page 7 of Deadly Alliance
Salvatore straightens his suit, his breathing heavy, his black eyes blazing with authority. He stares us down, making sure we understand exactly what is happening here. This isn't a negotiation. This is a decree. He is giving us no way out; the marriage must hold.
"The port requires a united front," Salvatore states, his voice returns to that rumble. "The Bratva will not attack an alliance cemented by a wedding. It shows strength. It shows stability. The Genovese and the Vellutini will become one impenetrable wall. If either of you refuses, I will strip you of your titles, seize your territories, and hand them to Lombardi."
Lombardi’s eyes widen in terror at the sudden mention of his name, clearly wanting no part of this crossfire.
I sit perfectly still, my mind calculating the angles with clinical precision. It is a trap, but it’s a brilliant one. Salvatore is forcing our hands. If I refuse, I lose my empire. If I accept, I have to let an enemy sleep in my bed.
But as I look across the table at Don Orlando, watching the furious, impotent rage burning in his eyes, a different thought takes root in my mind. A dark, viciously satisfying thought.
Orlando Genovese is a man ruled by his pride. He treats his family like property, bargaining chips to be used for his own elevation. He has two daughters. Everyone in the syndicate knows about them. There is the eldest, the spinster with the sharp tongue and a reputation for being an unmanageable shrew. And then there is the youngest. The prize. The perfect, obedient mafia princess that Orlando has been hoarding to secure a massive alliance for himself.
If I have to be shackled to this dying family, I am going to make sure the chains choke Orlando to death.
I let out a slow, measured breath and lean forward, resting my forearms on the polished mahogany. I look directly at Don Salvatore, ignoring Orlando entirely.
"You want an alliance, Don Salvatore?" I say smoothly. "Fine. You want to secure the port with a wedding? I will give you your united front. I agree to the marriage."
Orlando’s head snaps toward me, shock registering on his weathered face. He didn't expect me to capitulate so quickly.
Salvatore nods slowly, a glimmer of approval in his eyes. "Good. Then it is settled." He turns his gaze to Orlando. "Orlando. You will provide a daughter."
"Now, wait a goddamn minute," Orlando sneers, his upper lip curling. "I agree to the alliance, but I dictate terms. My eldest, Noemi, is of age. She is—"
"I don't want the eldest," I interrupt smoothly, cutting his legs out from under him.
Orlando stops, his eyes narrowing defensively. "What did you say?"
I turn my head slowly, meeting Orlando’s furious gaze with a cold, mocking smirk. I let the silence linger for a second, savoring the power I hold in this moment. I hold his pride in the palm of my hand, and I am going to crush it.
"I said, I don't want your eldest daughter," I repeat, my tone dripping with aristocratic disdain. "Everyone knows she’s a shrew, Orlando. I’ve heard she’s a headache, past her prime, and already pines for the Lombardi’s boy. I have an empire to run and a war to prepare for. I do not have the time or the patience to tame a feral, unwanted woman."
Orlando’s face flushes a dangerous shade of crimson. "You insolent little—"
"I accept the marriage," I state loudly, speaking over him, directing my demand back to Salvatore. "But I choose the bride. I will take the younger sister. I want the obedient one."
I watch the blood drain completely from Orlando’s face. His mouth opens, but no sound comes out. I have just demandedhis prized possession. I’ve demanded the daughter he was saving for a profitable, respectable match. I’ve demanded his perfect, golden child, and I’ve done it to guarantee myself a quiet life and a docile wife who will sit in the corner and keep her fucking mouth shut while I run the city.
"No," Orlando whispers, his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and genuine panic. He looks frantically at Salvatore. "Don Salvatore, please. Lucia is... she is innocent in this. She is young. Give him Noemi. The agreement is for a union of families, it shouldn't matter which—"
"Cassio has agreed to my terms," Salvatore cuts in. He doesn't care about Orlando’s paternal attachments, he only cares about the port. "If he wants the youngest, he gets the youngest. The Vellutini and Genovese families will unite. Cassio will marry Lucia."
Orlando looks like he’s about to have a heart attack. His hands are shaking where they rest on the table. He looks at me, and the hatred in his eyes is murderous.
I smile at him. A slow, dark, terrifying curve of my lips that promises nothing but pain.
"Get your daughter a dress, Orlando," I tell him softly, rising to my feet and buttoning my suit jacket. "We have a wedding to plan."
I turn and walk out of the war room, Matteo falling into step right behind me. The heavy oak doors shut behind us, sealing Orlando inside with his failure.
I won the battle today. I secured the alliance, I pleased the Capo dei Capi, and I gutted my enemy’s pride without firing a single shot. I am getting the quiet, perfect little bride.
4
Noemi
The sound of shattering porcelain echoes through the massive, vaulted hallway on the second floor, followed instantly by a scream so piercing that the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention.
I freeze, my hand hovering over the brass doorknob of the library.
