Page 75 of Arranged Mafia Marriage

I glare at him. “It would indeed be a shame. Just as it would be a shame if certain information about your dealings with the port authority were to come to light. I hear they’re not too fond of unauthorized shipments these days.”

O’Malley’s smile falters for a moment before he regains his composure. “Rumors and gossip, Pimaslov. Nothing more.”

“Perhaps,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “But rumors have a way of becoming reality if they’re not handled properly. Don’t you agree?”

The tension in the room is tangible as we stare each other down. O’Malley breaks first, reaching for his glass and draining it.

“Where does that leave us?” he asks, his voice gruff.

I refill both our glasses, considering my next move. “It leaves us at an impasse, Sean. You want to expand, and I want to safeguard what’s mine. There’s got to be a middle ground.” I study O’Malley’s face.

The tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife. As I reach for my glass again, I notice his phone on the table, screen lit up with a notification. A photo of a young girl with fiery red hair and bright green eyes catches my attention.

“That your daughter?” I ask casually, nodding toward the phone.

O’Malley’s eyes narrow as he glances at the screen. “What of it?”

I shrug, taking a sip of whiskey. “She’s pretty. Takes after her old man, I’d say.”

His jaw clenches, and there’s a flicker of fear in his eyes that he quickly hides. “Leave my daughter out of this, Pimaslov.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I’m just making conversation. No need to get defensive.”

His entire posture changes to reflect aggression. “If you so much as look at her wrong…”

“Relax,” I interrupt, holding up a hand. “I’ve got no interest in hurting kids. That’s not how I operate.”

He sits back, but the tension doesn’t leave his shoulders. “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

I nod, letting the silence stretch between us. I can see he’s trying to figure out if there was a hidden threat in my words. Let him wonder. Finally, I speak. “Neither of us wants an all-out war. It’s bad for business.”

He grunts in agreement. “What do you propose?”

I consider for a moment. “A temporary ceasefire. Give us both some time to cool off and reassess the situation. Say, two weeks?”

O’Malley strokes his beard, thinking it over. “And during those two weeks?”

“We both stick to our current territories. No expansion, no tricks. Just business as usual.”

He nods slowly. “And after the two weeks?”

I shrug. “We meet again. See if we can come to a more permanent arrangement.”

O’Malley studies me for a long moment before extending his hand. “All right, Pimaslov. Two weeks.”

I shake his hand firmly. “Two weeks.”

As we stand to leave, I’m sure he’s already planning his next move, just as I am. This ceasefire is nothing more than a brief pause. “Take care, Sean,” I say as we reach the door. “Give my best to your daughter.”

His eyes flash with anger, but he forces a smile. “And you take care of that pretty wife of yours, Kiril.”

We part ways, each of us knowing this peace is fragile at best. As I slide into the back of my car, say to Viktor, “I need you to dig up everything you can on Sean O’Malley’s daughter, and I mean everything.”

“Consider it done,” he says. “Anything else?”

I pause, thinking of Felicity and our unborn child. “Yeah. Double the security on Felicity and set up a meeting with Damiano for tomorrow. We need to talk strategy.”

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