He hesitates, just for a second, before crossing the room. He doesn’t look me in the eye as he sits, his movements stiff, defensive.
“Ari?” he asks, his voice tight.
I let the silence stretch, watching him squirm. Finally, I speak.
“She’s a problem,” I say bluntly. “One we should’ve resolved months ago.”
He flinches, his hands clenching into fists in his lap. “She’s married to Maxsim now. It’s done.”
“Nothing is ever done,” I snap, my voice cutting through the room like a blade. “That marriage is an insult—to me, to this family. Maxsim Volkov has no place here. He doesn’t understand us, doesn’t respect our traditions.”
Giovanni’s jaw tightens. “What do you want me to do?”
I stand, circling the table slowly, the sound of my footsteps deliberate. “You had one task,” I say, stopping behind him. “To secure Ari as a bride. To strengthen our position. And you failed.”
He stiffens, his shoulders rising with barely contained frustration. “She was never mine to control.”
“No,” I agree, my tone soft but laced with disdain. “But she was ours touse. And now she’s a pawn intheirgame instead of ours.”
Giovanni looks away, shame written across his face. I step closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. The gesture is almost fatherly, but the weight of it is a reminder of who holds the power.
“You want to lead one day, don’t you?” I ask, my voice low, almost kind.
He nods, barely.
“Then act like it,” I say, my grip tightening. “Find their cracks. Exploit them. Remind the Bratva—and the Bianchis—why we are not to be crossed.”
He hesitates, and I feel a flicker of irritation. Weakness. I lean down, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Or prove to me, once and for all, that you’re not worthy of the name Santoro.”
Giovanni leaves, his steps hurried, uneven. I watch him go, my expression calm, my thoughts sharp. He’ll do what I ask. Fear is a better motivator than love, after all.
I sit back in my chair, the whiskey still in my hand. The Bianchi-Bratva alliance is already cracking. All it needs is the right push.
Ari is the key. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s the spark that will ignite the fire. Maxsim will bleed for her. Franco will crumble under the weight of betrayal. And when the dust settles, the Cosa Nostra will be mine.
Sacrifices must be made. Giovanni, Ari… they’re nothing but pieces on the board.
The phone buzzes in my pocket, and I answer without hesitation. “Everything is in place. Proceed.”
The line goes dead, and I lean back, a faint smile curling at the edges of my lips.
The best traps are the ones they walk into willingly.
And I’ll be there to collect the spoils when the world burns.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Honor in vengance.
Ari
Our first social event as a couple and it has to be a political fundraiser. Turning in front of the mirror, I decide the dress I’ve chosen is perfect for kissing political ass. The senator who keeps Bratva’s interest at the forefront of his mind is having a dinner party for all his top donors, and Maxsim has insisted that we make it our debut.
A way to show those in power that the Bratva and Cosa Nostra are twice as strong.
“I’m ready, Maxsim.”
No response.