Page 14 of His Ruthless Claim

"They're watching the chaos unfold, just like we predicted. Lorenzo's keeping his distance, waiting to see who comes out on top."

Smart man. But his caution won't save him when I'm done reshaping this city.

2:30 PM now. She'll be arranging the window display, those elegant hands adjusting mannequins with practiced precision.

I stand abruptly, straightening my jacket. "Have Carmine track Alfonso's movements tonight. I want to know every breath he takes."

"Where are you headed?" Mickey asks, though his knowing look suggests he already knows.

I don't answer, striding past him. This... fixation with Skye Calloway is becoming a liability. Each time I pass her shop, I tell myself it's strategic surveillance. Yet I find myself cataloging useless details - how her amber eyes narrow when she's helping select the right outfit, the way she touches that small diamond stud on her nose when deep in thought.

The reports can wait an hour. I need to assess potential weaknesses in the Cappalletti territory anyway. If that assessment happens to take me past a certain boutique... it's merely efficient route planning.

Until I spend two hours in the boutique, feeling oddly…light around the only woman who looks at me like I'm anything but a don's son.

The city lightsblur beyond my office window, casting strange shadows across the stack of files detailing Enzo's movements. Each photo, each document builds a clear picture - he's a man desperate to break free from Alfonso's suffocating control.

My reflection stares back at me, ice blue eyes empty as always. Father hates that - how I never show proper emotion, never showed proper fear when he'd strike me. Once, my eyes lit up with excitement like everyone else.

Now, it's a dull memory so long gone it might as well not be my own.

I catch myself stroking the silver watch band again, the familiar weight against my wrist both comfort and weakness. Maria's file sits open on my desk, the surveillance photos showing her safe, unharmed, and always with Enzo. Which will make this even easier.

The timing needs to be perfect. Enzo's flailing loyalty makes me unsteady. I can manipulate it, but I can't trust it. One wrong move and he could expose everything to Alfonso or someone even worse.

But handled correctly, he could be the key to ripping away the only thing the Cappalletti family has on me. And Maria... getting her away from Lorenzo is important. I need her safe. She's real family.

My mother's voice echoes in my head: "Control isn't about moving fast, piccolo. It's about moving all the pieces together, like conducting an orchestra."

I stand, adjusting my suit jacket with mechanical precision as I study the Chicago skyline. Skye's boutique is dark now, but I can picture her there, commanding attention without effort. Such a stark contrast to the violence that defines my world. Perhaps that's why I can't stop watching her - she wields a different kind of power, one that doesn't leave blood on the streets.

"Time to conduct," I murmur, thumb brushing over the watch face one final time. Enzo's wavering decision, Maria's situation, Skye's unexpected influence - all pieces on my board now. Mother always said patience was everything. I've waited years to take what's mine. I can orchestrate these new elements just as carefully.

8

SKYE

The bell chimes as he enters my boutique, right on schedule - if you can call his deliberately irregular visits a schedule. Three weeks of watching this man browse my store like he's conducting surveillance rather than shopping has taught me his patterns. Today it's 12:47 PM. Last time it was 11:13 AM. Before that, 4:29 PM.

My handsome stranger moves with predatory grace between the racks of designer clothes, his expensive suit a perfect complement to his lean frame. Those ice-blue eyes scan each item with surgical precision, like he's cataloging evidence rather than appreciating fashion.

"Let me guess - another gift for your girlfriend?" I lean against the counter, unable to resist poking at his stoic demeanor. Now that I'm growing accustomed to his presence - and his gorgeous features - I want to see if I can stir up any emotion besides the subtle hints I've seen in his eyes. The guy has to smile, right?

His purchases follow the same calculated pattern as his visits - never the same type of item, but always expensive, always perfect.

His gaze flicks to mine. "I don't have a girlfriend."

"Boyfriend?" I arch an eyebrow.

Not even a twitch. "No."

"Just collecting clothing for fun then?" His purchases have started to move into women's clothes, asking me my favorite pieces.

"Business associates." He runs his fingers along a silk blouse. "It's important to maintain certain relationships."

"With designer clothes?" I move closer, catching a whiff of his cologne - something expensive and subtle. "Most guys just go with a fruit basket."

"Fruit spoils." His voice remains perfectly even, but something shifts in those empty eyes. "Designer items maintain their value."

---