Chapter 8

With my attention fixed on Leonardo's frail features, I shook my head. If anyone knew the truth, it was him. I didn't have to explain myself to Leonardo or any man. Not when I was now the head of our organization. He may be Miami's consigliere, but he answered to me.

We both knew this as we stared at one another from across my desk, but Leonardo was more than that. He was the only man who shared my blood, and the only piece I had left of my mother. The one who took me in and groomed me for what was my birthright.

Leonardo's body trembled at the painful cough he let out. I watched as cancer masked his lungs, slowly dwindling his strength. The fit stopped, and he lowered his fedora over his head until his thinning hair was hidden beneath. He took a long-labored breath and met my eyes again.

He didn't try to explain his reasoning. He just sat patiently.

For the respect I held for myzio, I said, "I won't back out on my word. That's all we have."

Honor.

"I know." He breathed tiredly.

"You have said it yourself. I need to marry soon."

"Not her, and not for the reason you've agreed to."

"That's where we disagree." My lips twitched. "It's the perfect reason. Her."

Leonardo remained quiet. Nothing he could say or do would change the outcome of my decision. Even if it led to a war. I wasn't blind. I saw the danger it opposed, the tension that could expand within our syndicate. While I continued to be watched carefully as the new Boss, cowardice was not a word that would be whispered near my name. And I wasn't one to fail.

"It's late. You should be resting."

"I'll rest soon enough." I didn't miss the underlying meaning of his words. I ignored them, and he asked, "Who will you take with you tomorrow?"

Elio was out of the question as my right hand and underboss. His duty was the famiglia when I wasn't around. As my brother, he was the only one I trusted with such a task with Leonardo by his side.

Nate couldn't be pulled too much into this world. I couldn't risk my brother's cover with the DEA for this.

As for the youngest of us four, Vadim had been warned to never step foot in New York. It'd been part of the arrangement we'd set the night of the gala.

All four people I trusted had to stay. Leaving me with Yamal and Dario as my answer. They were loyal and had proven themselves to me from time to time.

My eyes found the bourbon-filled glass I hadn't yet tasted. I concealed my smile with one last swirl of my cup as tomorrow promised her emerald-colored eyes, and I gulped down the liquid to pacify my thirst for vengeance.

The private jet landed smoothly against the late February snow. I hadn't taken a step out into the cold weather, and I already looked forward to my return to Miami's sun and warm weather. I stood once the cabin door opened. A gust of wind traveled inside, cooling my warm skin. I buttoned my coat and stepped into enemy territory.

Our Italian Outfit consisted of five families: Miami, New York, Las Vegas, Chicago, and Los Angeles. All united by our own territories. As in every family, conflicts arose, and feuds were never forgotten. To keep us strong against our enemies, we came together as one. If an issue emerged that could break or harm our syndicate, it would be taken to the council. Each boss would vote, and a decision would be made.

Our closest tie had always been Las Vegas and its boss, Alfonzo Silva. New York's had been Chicago, whose ruler, Luigi Santoni, was near death in age, but his heart still pumped. Marrying a Zanetti not only favored my ill desires, but our allegiance would weigh heavily in council.

Even then, this was New York. Not my city, my streets, or my men. Since it did not answer to me, I treated it as an enemy.

"Boss."

I turned and gripped the waiting car door. Yamal had stayed behind to speak to the captain but had made it back to me.

With a nod, I acknowledged Yamal while I kept my eyes on Dario's task. Dario held one of Nate's gadgets he had snatched from the DEA. It traced anything from wires to explosives, as well as GPS signals. He made a quick lap around the car before he got into the driver's seat.

It was clean.

"Our pilot advised us to return by noon," Yamal said. "The radar shows unsafe flights any time after that. It'll clear by morning."

I glanced at my watch. I had three hours.

"Let's go." I opened the door and slid inside the warm vehicle. As soon as the car rolled, so did my mind.

Three hours.

ALESSANDRA

New York

I stared at the bruises left on my cheeks. The dark stains left by fingertips that paraded with the morning's light, along with the busted skin by my hairline from the strike it had taken by the butt of my father's gun. The amount of makeup I had used to fade them wasn't enough. Their shadows remained unhidden.

I straightened my fitted black sleeved dress as a soft knock announced my time was up. Niccolo, my guard since childhood, stood in front of me. A crown of thin hair rested on his head, and tired round cheeks sagged to his jaw. His eyes wandered to the corner of my forehead, and he gave me a curt nod. I guess my hair concealed as terribly as my makeup did.

"You've been asked to join your father's study."

This was it.

The trade of one cage for another.

Fucking men. Too proud to recognize our power but quick to shove us to amend their mistakes for their own gain.

I felt like cattle as I walked through the corridor.