Page 24 of His Ruthless Claim

Mikayla shrinks back at Jazz's reaction. Her wide eyes dart to Kendra, who straightens in her chair, perfectly manicured nails drumming against the dark wood table.

And this is why I was living in denial. But I know I can't keep doing that, and I'd honestly rather hear the truth from Jazz.

"What guy?" Jazz's voice comes out tight as she sets down her glass with deliberate care. The crystal makes a soft clink against the table.

"You know, the one I told you about last week. Tall, dark, expensive suit." I lean back, crossing my legs. "You said you had an idea who he was…"

The comfortable buzz from the wine evaporates as Jazz's expression hardens. Her fingers trace the stem of her glass, a tell I recognize from years of friendship. Something about this man has her on edge.

"Skye." Jazz's tone carries a warning I've never heard before. "How often exactly has he been coming by?"

The playful atmosphere that filled the room minutes ago has vanished completely. Even sweet Mikayla looks troubled, her usual smile nowhere to be seen.

"Three times this week." I meet Jazz's intense gaze. "He's never told me who he is, but I think…" So much for limbo. "I think I need to know."

Jazz carefully places both hands flat on the table, her phoenix tattoo visible against her wrist.

"His name is Luca Mantione." Jazz's words hit the table like ice. "And he just took over as don for the Mantiones."

My stomach drops as memories of those unnervingly empty blue eyes flash through my mind. The way he'd move through my boutique with precise, calculated steps. How he'd examine items with methodical attention while never betraying a hint of actual interest.

"He's a don?" My voice comes out steadier than I feel.

I had a suspicion after listening to all those women. But speculating and knowing feel so different.

Jazz nods, her fingers tracing the phoenix on her wrist. "The old Don died three weeks ago. Heart attack, they say." Her tone suggests she believes otherwise. "That's when Luca started showing up at your shop more frequently, right?"

I think back, counting the visits. "Yeah, actually. He came in a few times, probably the two weeks before the funeral. Now it's..." The realization makes my chest tight. "Almost every day."

"Could he be marking territory?" Kendra's marketing expertise bleeds into something darker. We all know how the underbelly of the city works, even if it's just the basics. "The boutique's location-"

"Is right between two neighborhoods." Jazz cuts in. "And when there's a power shift…"

Mikayla pushes her plate away, looking pale. "Should Skye close the shop?"

"No." I surprise myself with how quickly I answer. "He's never threatening. Just..." I remember the way he'd examined a silk scarf yesterday, those long fingers testing the fabric with scientific precision. "Empty. Like he's playing at being human."

"That's what makes him dangerous." Jazz leans forward, her voice dropping. "His father was old school - all heat and violence. But Luca?" She shakes her head. "He'll slice your throat and not even blink. No emotion. No hesitation."

The wine turns sour in my mouth as I recall our brief interactions. His perfectly measured responses. That dead-eyed stare that seemed to catalog every detail while revealing nothing.

But I swear I see emotion in him sometimes. I swear that I can get him to crack.

"Three days after his father died," Jazz continues, "three of Don Mantione's closest associates disappeared. Their bodies haven't been found." She meets my eyes. "Luca's been changingthings. And everyone who has met with him says he's just as cold as ever. Nerio was sent to talk with him for the Buetis and even he's unnerved by Luca. You can't have him around-"

"Look," I lean forward, my amber necklace catching the light. "The boutique's become something of a safe zone. The wives, girlfriends - they come to shop, to gossip. No one causes trouble because everyone needs somewhere neutral to spend their blood money."

"That's exactly what worries me." Jazz's curls have started to escape her bun, framing her face in wild spirals. "You're too close to this."

I trace the rim of my wine glass. "Last month, Rosa Cappalletti dropped thirty grand on designer handbags while complaining about her husband's new mistress. Two days later, that same mistress got caught in a police raid that shut down her massage parlor."

"Jesus, Skye." Kendra's perfectly lined eyes widen.

"I didn't do anything with the information. I just..." I shrug, the silk of my blouse rustling. "I listen. They talk. The boutique's become their confessional."

"And what happens when someone decides you've heard too much?" Jazz's voice carries an edge of fear I'm not used to hearing.

"That's why Luca's different." The words slip out before I can stop them. "He doesn't talk. Doesn't share. Just watches. Like he's trying to solve a puzzle."

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