Page 35 of Not Mine to Keep

“We agreed not to tell her,” Gabriel remarked, gaze pointed his way.

“No, you said that. I only listened.” Alessandro focused back on me. “Armani figured out a way to force you to marry no matter what. We just need to ensure it’s to me.”

I thought back to Rosa’s ominous words upstairs, and then it made sense. The truth had been in plain sight from the beginning. The loophole to how Armani would get me to bend to his will in marriage without him breaking his family’s ancient rules.

“Aunt Tia,” I whispered, as chills coated every inch of bare skin. “If I don’t do what he says ...”

Rosa was right. I didn’t have a choice. Whether Armani chose Alessandro or Rocco for me to marry, it no longer mattered. I’d do what I had to do to keep my aunt safe.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Calliope

The bastard was at the head of his twenty-person table when we entered the dining room. Alessandro and Gabriel had me wedged protectively between them, and we hung back at the other side of the table. I assumed Gabriel was waiting for some cue from Armani to speak.

Armani set aside the book he’d been reading, and for some reason it irritated me he was a reader, because I didn’t want to like anything about him. He removed his dark-rimmed glasses and looked up at us.

How had my mother fallen for that man? Not that he was unattractive. More like a sixty-five-year-old Joe Mantegna from the movieThe Godfather IIIand thatCriminal Mindsshow. But he was evil, and she’d been a young musician, living her dream before he’d entrapped her in his world for decades.

Armani adjusted the knot of his red tie as his dark eyes swept over my dress, and I’d swear he had a similar reaction as Alessandro had minutes ago. There was a definitewhat-the-fucklook in his eyes.

Armani snapped his fingers and flicked his wrist. “Someone get my daughter something to cover up with before I have to cut your eyes out for staring at her.”

“One thing we agree on,” Alessandro said, ice in his tone as he broke his silence for the first time. At the offering of a throw blanket from Leo, Alessandro visibly relaxed once my upper half was covered.

Now I understood Rosa’s reasoning for choosing such a sexy dress, knowing it’d make both Alessandro and Armani snap. Show Armani that Alessandro was as protective of me as the bastard felt he had a right to be.

Well played, Rosa. Well played.

“Costa,” Armani bit out, hands on the table while standing to his height of six-three. “Gabriel tells me you wish to marry my daughter?”

Hardly. But what choice do we have, you prick?Not that I could voice my thoughts. I also had to remember to check my sass. I couldn’t let Aunt Tia die because of my runaway tongue.

Alessandro kept quiet, and I realized why. Marcello, Armani’s second-in-command, had appeared in the doorway behind where Armani stood. He casually thumbed down the black collar of his starched shirt as he looked at me wrapped up in a blanket like a child. There was a darkness about him that managed to give Armani a run for his money.

He peered at Alessandro. “You shouldn’t be here.” Cold eyes cut to Gabriel as his next target. “And your throat should be slit for going behind our backs to seek the help of a Costa.”

“He’s my consigliere for a reason,” Armani said, defending Gabriel. “He always has the organization’s best interest at heart.” Lifting his hands from the table, he pushed them into his pockets and faced Marcello.

“I’m not the one who was being groomed to take over before Mr. DiMaggio found out about his daughter, and now you’ve lost your shot at running the empire,” Gabriel said, his tone much lower than I’d ever heard before. “Of course he’d come to me for advice instead of you.”

Marcello’s dark eyes snapped Gabriel’s way like he’d been challenged to something. Pistols at dawn. I’d swear I’d fallen down the rabbit hole and wound up in Hades instead of Wonderland.

“Calliope would be dead if not for Gabriel’s decision to send Costa to Nashville, and you’d be back in line to take over the business.” Armani quietly studied his second-in-command.

“Maybe you were part of the plan to have Calliope killed?” Gabriel suggested.

At the sight of Gabriel drawing a weapon, Alessandro pulled me farther away from the scene, drawing me tighter against him.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Marcello kept his hands in view, not going for a gun like Gabriel had. “I’m loyal to you, Armani. To the bloodline.”

Gabriel rested his gun against his thigh. “You’re loyal to power and money.”

“This is madness.” Marcello focused on Armani. “You can’t seriously think I’d sell you out to the Espositos and betray you.” He fixed the cuffs of his jacket, seemingly not worried about being shot. “Gabriel wants your daughter to marry a Costa. Alessandro’s father was League. The Costas helped take down the Sicilian mafia division in New York just last year. Are you—?” He cut himself off before insulting his boss.

Too bad.Marcello was one man I wouldn’t mind watching Armani kill. Thank God the man was married and Armani didn’t believe in divorce, or I was pretty sure he would’ve forced me to marry his second-in-command.

“The Costas’ relationship with The League will play into our favor,” Gabriel said with the kind of conviction even I could feel. “An enemy of our enemy is our friend.”

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