Page 7 of Secret Bratva Twins

“No.” My grin widens, wicked and deliberate. “It will belong to her. And she will belong to me.”

Roman’s jaw tightens. He picks up the file, slamming it shut. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“Danger is what we do,” I remind him, setting my glass down with a quietclink. “The Vinci family was once apowerhouse, and with her, it can be that again. Only this time, under my control.”

Roman shakes his head. “She’s not going to trust you.”

“She doesn’t need to trust me,” I reply coolly. “She just needs to think she’s in control.”

Roman stands, gathering his things. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

I watch him leave, the office door clicking shut behind him. Turning back to the window, I allow myself a rare moment of silence. Chiara Vinci is a wildcard, and I love nothing more than a game where the stakes are high.

I lean against the edge of my desk, my mind circling back to Chiara Vinci. It isn’t just her position in the Vinci family that intrigues me. She’s gorgeous—stunning in a way that’s impossible to ignore. I’ve always known that, but I never let myself think about it beyond surface-level acknowledgment. Not until recently.

There’s something about her fire, her sharp tongue, her refusal to back down even when the odds are against her. It makes her a challenge, and I’ve never been one to turn away from those. The thought of her submitting to me, willingly or otherwise, sends a thrill through my veins. I don’t just want to control her for the power she represents—I want her.

The door swings open, and Roman strides back in, his face a mask of frustration. “I had one more thing to say,” he mutters, dropping a file onto the desk. “You need to be careful with her.”

I arch an eyebrow, crossing my arms. “Careful?”

“She’s still a Vinci,” Roman says pointedly, his voice low but firm. “They might be licking their wounds now, but thatdoesn’t mean they’ve lost their edge. No one in that family has mercy in their blood.”

I chuckle, the sound dark and amused. “Oh, I know.” I push off the desk, pacing toward the window. The Chicago skyline sprawls out before me, glittering under the night sky. “That’s what makes it fun.”

Roman’s sigh is heavy with exasperation. “You’re playing with fire.”

“I like the heat,” I counter, glancing at him over my shoulder. “You know that.”

He shakes his head, his tone sharp. “This isn’t just business, is it? You’re letting yourself get distracted.”

“I’m not distracted,” I say, my voice edged with steel. “I’m focused. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Roman steps closer, his expression serious. “Do you? Because it seems to me like you’re getting caught up in something personal.”

“Why not both?” I flash him a grin, but it fades quickly as I turn back to the window. “Chiara Vinci is ambitious, cunning, and fiercely loyal to her family’s legacy. That’s exactly why I want her. She’s going to fight me every step of the way, and when I win, it’ll be that much more satisfying.”

Roman crosses his arms, his voice low and warning. “You’re underestimating her. She might look like she’s playing along, but don’t forget who she is. If you push her too far, she’ll come at you with everything she has.”

I nod slowly, my grin returning. “Good. I wouldn’t want her to make it easy.”

Roman curses under his breath, rubbing a hand over his face. “You’re insane.”

“I prefer determined.” I turn back to him, my expression serious now. “She’s not the only one with something to gain here. She wants revenge. I want power. We both have motives, and that makes this a fair game.”

“What if you lose?” Roman challenges, his eyes narrowing.

“I don’t lose,” I say simply, my tone final.

Roman sighs, his frustration clear, but he doesn’t argue further. As he leaves, I lean against the window, my mind returning to Chiara. Her defiance, her beauty, her fire—it all fuels something in me I didn’t expect. I know she’s dangerous, and I know she has her own agenda. That only makes me want her more.

Roman clears his throat and stands. “I’ll leave you to it, Boss.”

I stare out at the city skyline as he leaves, the lights stretching endlessly before me. Roman’s footsteps fade, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Or more accurately, my distractions. Because no matter how hard I try to focus, my mind keeps drifting back to her.

Chiara Vinci.

That name alone is a contradiction—a sharp reminder of the fire she carries, matched only by the icy control she wields when it suits her. Her long dark hair, always perfectly in place, frames a face that could disarm anyone: sharp cheekbones, piercing dark eyes, and lips that somehow manage to look both soft and unyielding. She’s slender, her figure deceptively delicate, but there’s strength in the way she carries herself. I’ve seen it. That quiet power that lies just beneath the surface.

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