Page 9 of His Ruthless Claim

That's what I tell myself as I remember how I couldn't stop myself last night - not when I saw Skye entering The Vault in a dress that clings like a second skin. I followed her there under the pretense of business. Watched how she commanded attention without trying, how her calculated movements suggested she saw more than most would assume.

The intelligence in those amber eyes reminds me she's not just another pretty face to be used and discarded. She's built her business from nothing, maintains connections with Chicago's elite while staying clean of their darker dealings. Almost clean.

But something about the way she carries herself, the perfect blend of sophistication and street smarts, keeps drawing my attention back to her photos. It's a puzzle I need to solve. For business reasons. Only business.

My phone buzzes. A new message from one of my surveillance teams. The photo loads and my carefully maintained control slips for a fraction of a second.

Maria. Enzo Rossi has his arm wrapped around her, easily identifiable by his tattoos, as he ushers her to a car. She looks okay, though, in clean clothes and like she's eating. At least she's not being abused - but we're no closer to getting her out because of my stubborn father.

"You shouldn't have killed Giovanni's nephew." The memory of my father's drunken words from last night echo. "Now look what they've done."

My jaw clenches. The nephew deserved it - he'd been stealing from our operations for months. The fact that he was stupid enough to get caught was his own fault. But my father never liked when I took matters into my own hands.

I still have bruises to pay for drawing Nerio's attention. Not thatIwas the one that kidnapped his fiance.

I trace the antique watch face, remembering Maria at eight years old, her warm brown eyes fierce as she stood between me and my father. "Uncle Tony, stop! He's just a kid!" Even then, she'd been the only one brave enough to face his rage.

The leather arm of my chair groans under my grip. Maria is the last connection I have to my mother. The only person who remembers how she used to sing us both to sleep, how her perfume smelled like jasmine.

Nerio's intel better be accurate. My father is supposed to be negotiating her release right now, trading information the Buetis gathered about Cappalletti operations in exchange for Maria's safe return.

But looking I should know better than to leave anything in his hands.

I shut down the emotion threatening to surface. Sentiment is weakness. Maria is a liability I can't afford, but one I'll protect nonetheless. For my mother's memory, if nothing else.

Thankfully, a few days ago, I managed to arrange a meeting with Enzo at an abandoned warehouse on neutral territory - and no one else knows. I told him it was a chance to discuss opportunities. No threats, no demands. Those will come later if needed.

He arrives exactly on time, which I note with approval. The tattoos on his arms shift as he moves through patches of dusty sunlight filtering through broken windows. His gray eyes scan the space, cataloging exits. Smart man.

"Unusual place for a meeting." Enzo's voice echoes slightly.

I remain seated at the metal table I'd placed in the center of the room. "I find privacy allows for more honest conversation."

He takes the chair across from me, his posture relaxed but ready. I recognize the stance of someone who's survived by reading situations correctly.

"How's my cousin?" I keep my voice neutral, watching his micro-expressions.

A slight tightening around his eyes. Interesting. "Following orders isn't personal."

"Of course not. Though I wonder whose orders you're following these days." I tap my watch, noting how his gaze tracks the movement. "Giovanni seems to be losing his grip lately. All those missed shipments, territory disputes..."

Enzo's jaw clenches. There it is - the tension I was looking for. "The family is strong."

"The old guard, perhaps." I lean forward slightly. "But the future belongs to those who recognize shifting power dynamics. Who position themselves accordingly."

His eyes narrow, catching my meaning. "And what position would that be?"

"One with more autonomy. Better compensation." I pause deliberately. "Protection when needed."

"Pretty words." But I see the calculation in his expression. "What's the price?"

"Maria walks free." I slide a burner phone across the table. "Consider it a gesture of good faith. A down payment on future arrangements."

The warehouse falls silent as he weighs his options. I wait patiently, knowing I've given him exactly what he needs - an excuse to do what he already wants to do.

"I'll consider it." He pockets the phone.

I nod once, standing. Everything is proceeding as planned. I just needed to see if he was open to it, and I can already tell that with the right motivation, Enzo can be bought.

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