Page 21 of His Ruthless Claim

"Sweet dreams of perfectly aligned cuffs." I barely stop myself from calling him Mr. Dangerous out loud.

His fingers trace the watch one final time before he turns to leave, and I swear I see the ghost of something human flash across his face. Like a crack in marble, gone before you can be sure it was ever there.

The bell's final chime fades into silence. I flip the sign to "Closed" and lean against the counter, letting out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. My fingertips trace the spot where his watch rested, still cool from the metal.

Every whispered conversation from the past weeks slots into place like pieces of an elaborate puzzle. The way Mrs. Figarello clutched her pearls when he passed her in the shop. How the Rosetti brothers cleared out mid-fitting the moment he walked in. The sudden silence when he enters a room, like everyone's holding their breath.

I move through the racks, straightening hangers that don't need straightening. My heel clicks echo in the empty space as I catalog each detail about him. The way he always stands with his back to a wall. How he surveys every room before fully entering. The precise distance he maintains from others - except with me. During fittings, he lets me close enough to feel the coiled tension beneath those expensive suits.

That watch, though. My hands still on a silk blazer as I picture his repetitive gesture. One, two, three strokes across its face. Like a ritual or a nervous tic, except nothing about him suggests nervousness. Everything else about him is calculated perfection, from his immaculate hair to his measured steps.

I know Jazz told me to be careful, but I find myself remembering that millisecond when our fingers touched. The slight dilation of his pupils, the barely-there hitch in hisbreathing. Proof that something human exists beneath that marble exterior. Like finding a hairline crack in a flawless diamond.

My reflection catches in the store window - amber eyes bright with curiosity rather than fear. I've always been drawn to dangerous things, treating life like a game of chance. But this feels different. More intense. Every interaction with him is like playing with fire, testing how close I can get before being burned.

That watch tell though... it's the first real evidence that his perfect control isn't absolute. And I nearly got him to smile. Every little thing that I can find only makes me feel a little giddier.

And God help me, but I want to find more.

11

LUCA

The private dining room's dark wood panels absorb what little light filters through the stained glass windows. I study Enzo across the table, tracking each minute shift in his expression. His tattoos peek out from beneath his rolled sleeves as he drums his fingers against the white tablecloth.

"They are watching her close, Luca." Enzo leans back, a practiced casualness that doesn't match the calculated look in his gray eyes. "The Cappallettis don't typically let people walk away."

I take a measured sip of water - not whiskey, not like my father. "Maria's not 'people.' She's a Mantione."

"That might make it worse." He tilts his head. "Your family's been pushing boundaries lately. And with the change in power… The Don's looking jumpy."

The crystal tumbler meets the table with a soft clink. "I knew it was a possibility. That's why I have you."

A hint of amusement crosses his face. "The old guard doesn't like change."

"The old guard can fuck themselves. What's your angle here, Enzo?"

"Always straight to business." He spreads his hands. "I've been thinking about it, and I might be able to create an opening. Get her somewhere safe before things escalate." He levels me with a look. "As long as you can guarantee you make it worth my while."

I catalogue his posture, the slight tension in his shoulders betraying his stake in this conversation. He's been saying that, but I haven't found the right offer. This time, I go more direct. "And what would that cost me?"

"Protection for me and a few who will help me."

I knew that one was coming. "Done."

"And I want what I deserve for this level of loyalty. I want to be a capo. With my own crew and my own territory."

My face remains impassive as I consider his words. Maria's safety is the most important but to let someone whose loyalty can be bought get that close to me…It's dangerous. Then again, I can't blame him for turning on a don that doesn't have his back. "I'll see what I can do."

"Don't take too long." Enzo stands, adjusting his cuffs. "Clock's ticking, and your cousin's got a target on her back."

I watch him leave, mind already mapping out the consequences. Maria's always been too soft for this life - a trait that reminded me of my mother. Perhaps that's why I can't let her share the same fate.

I sigh as I head back to the office, finding it already full of made men who are waiting to see me fail. The meeting room's mahogany table stretches before me, each seat filled with men who've killed their way to power. Cigarette smoke coils through stale air as I spread the territory map across the polished surface.

Everyone watches me silently as I take my father's seat where I belong. And then I brace myself as I get ready to finally fix our operation.

"South Side operations will shift." I tap a section of the map. "Effective immediately."

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