Page 74 of Conall's Reign

Me: Conall, I want to talk to him.

This time, there was a long pause before answering.

Husband: I don’t like it, but I won’t stop you. Finn and Sean will stay by your side. If you sense something is wrong, just walk away, and your guards will be close.

That was as much as I would get from him, and I was thankful he didn’t outright forbid me. Not that it would have mattered.

Pocketing my phone, I finished my last set of vitals and headed to the cafeteria. Finn and Sean stayed beside me as I entered, their eyes scanning every face. I knew Owen was nearby, probably monitoring the perimeter like a creeper. There, sitting in the back corner, was the man who had turned my world upside down.

Vanello.

He looked exactly as I remembered—sharp suit, salt-and-pepper hair slicked back, and dark eyes that concealed too many secrets. He sat with effortless confidence, like a man who had never once doubted his authority over a room. Even now, in a hospital cafeteria, he emanated a quiet menace that didn’t need to be articulated to be felt.

I squared my shoulders and walked toward him, my heart racing. Finn and Sean lingered nearby, closely watching every movement.

Vanello’s lips curled into a smirk as I sat across from him. “Francesca,” he drawled, his voice smooth and edged with steel. “You look well.”

I didn’t respond immediately. Instead, I studied him. Something about the way he looked at me was unsettling—not quite fatherly, but something else, something possessive. It felt as if he were assessing a piece of property he had just acquired.

“You requested to meet,” I finally said, maintaining a neutral tone. “What is it that you want?”

His smirk remained unchanged. “Straight to the point. I like that.” He leaned forward, fingers encircling his coffee cup. “Well, a relationship with you. That’s what I want. I imagine you have questions about me and my relationship with your mother.”

I swallowed hard. “I don’t. You already told me the truth: that you’re my father. That’s all I needed to know.” I wasn’t sure if that was information I really wanted to have either. I could have probably gone my entire life without finding that out.

His expression darkened just slightly, revealing a flicker of something dangerous beneath the surface. “Your mother was a complicated woman, Francesca. She wanted power but didn’t understand how to wield it. That was her fault.”

I clenched my fists under the table. “I have no interest in discussing my mother.” There was no earthly reason that I could think of to discuss Carlotta Santelli with him. She was a topic that I didn’t want to discuss with anyone.

I narrowed my eyes. “What happens next?”

Vanello took a slow sip of his coffee, watching me over the rim of his cup. “That depends on you.”

I leaned forward. “No, it depends on you. You requested this meeting. You said you wanted a relationship. What does that mean to a man like you?”

His smirk didn’t fade, but a flicker of something glinted in his eyes—calculation, amusement, or perhaps even approval. “It means I’m willing to put our… conflicts aside.”

I scoffed. “Conflicts? You mean the war you started with my husband? The attacks on my brothers? You expect me to believe you’ll just call it off?”

Vanello sighed, shaking his head as though I was being difficult. “You’re thinking too small, Francesca. I don’t waste time on personal vendettas—not when more important matters are at stake.”

I maintained a neutral expression, but inside, my stomach twisted. “So, tell me. What are these ‘bigger things’?”

He tilted his head, studying me as if I were a puzzle he hadn’t quite solved yet. “You married into power, but you were born into it first. Your mother may have been reckless, but she understood that. Whether you like it or not, you’re part of something greater.”

I exhaled sharply. “Cut the cryptic bullshit. If you want something from me, just say it.”The whole song and dance was wearing thin. I didn’t care about these mafia games. The wholeprincipessarole was never one I wanted.

His lips pressed into a thin line, and for the first time, his gaze hardened. “I want you to acknowledge what you are. Who you are. My daughter.”

A chill ran down my spine. “And what does that mean? You want me to choose a side?”

He leaned back, his expression unreadable. “I want you to understand that this world is not as simple as Conall and your brothers would have you believe. Territory lines shift, and allegiances change. I don’t need a war with them if I have something more valuable.”

I swallowed hard. “And what is that?”

His smile was slow and deliberate. “You.”

The word sat heavy between us.

---