Page 28 of Enforcer

Slate looks at me with a glare that tells me tocut the shit, and I grin, hiding my face from view as I pretend to pick lint off my button-up.

“Yes, you’re going to work together as one. The territory will belong to both sides if Mr. Ricci agrees, that is…” Brynne trails off, looking at Slate for confirmation.

The entire room looks to Slate, even the Bianchis under Brynne’s command.

The air in the room gets tense, and frustrations are about to boil over. I wish like hell that Brynne hadn’t taken my weapons at the door.

“Listen,” Slate finally speaks, seeing Brynne getting furious with the etiquette in the room. “You’re acting as if this will be a bad thing. We’ll outnumber the other three families tenfold and have more territory. We need you all to agree not to kill each other as we merge powers. There will be a shift in how both sides are doing things already, as you got new bosses.”

I shift uncomfortably in my chair, not knowing where this is about to go but cracking my knuckles out of habit just in case.

Alyssa’s eyes scan the table, finding mine. There’s a speck of fear in them—one she locks down when she realizes I’ve spotted it.

I wish I could assure her this will work, but I can’t.

This hasn’t been done in many years. It’s going to be hard, and there will be growing pains.

“So, you’ll be marrying soon, right? The transition needs to happen quickly so we can get politics in order,” Antonio—one of Brynne’s men—says, eyes darting between them.

Smart cookie, that one.

Brynne juts her chin up in fake strength as she locks her eyes on her soon-to-be husband. “Yes. It will be next week. You all can see to hiring someone to get it together. We don’t want a big spectacle.”

Lorenzo scoffs at this, crossing his arms over his chest. “It needs to be.”

He says it low enough that Brynne can ignore it and do what she wants, but everyone hears him.

How she reacts will set the tone for how she handles a world of mafia men.

We know she can kill, but can she hang when the men are stubborn?

“If you’re going to voice your opinion, do so a little louder,” she replies, her tone hard as stone.

I cough to cover a laugh, and no one pays me any mind.

Lorenzo drops his arms to the table, straightening as if fortifying his defenses. “I was only saying that for this to work and for all of us to be appeased with the transition and see the results we want from the merge, the wedding needs to be a big spectacle. It’s an Italian wedding, for fuck’s sake.”

She looks at Slate, and something unspoken passes between them.

“Fine.” She sighs. “I know you’re right. But how will we have something so massive in only a week?”

“Don’t worry, Boss,” Antonio says, standing and looking at Lorenzo. “We’ve got this.”

Both men stand and shake hands, and the feeling in the room lightens.

The room stretches in a collective sigh of relief that there’s no blood on the table or entrails leaking from anyone, and I sit back in my chair, tension releasing out of my body.

I hung around after the meeting to discuss my part in this wedding planning. I’m to secure the priest, and I have just the man for the job, but it’ll take some convincing.

Alyssa moves off with Lorenzo and Antonio, who’ve taken up the task of wedding planners for some fucking reason.

“You ready?” I ask her, and she shoos me away.

“I’ll meet you back at the apartment.”

“I’m going to my place, minaccia.”

She stops, eyeing me as something passes on her face. “Alright, then. Have a good night.”

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