Page 112 of Made for Saints

“She doesn’t,” I said sharply, my tone leaving no room for argument.

“Sure,” Rafe said, smirking. “Whatever you say.”

I ignored him, my mind already racing through the implications of Valentina’s involvement. If she had information about the missing money, that meant she was either closer to the Russians than I’d thought, or she was playing some angle I hadn’t seen coming. Either way, it complicated things. And complications were the last thing I needed right now.

Luca leaned forward, his expression turning serious for the first time since I’d arrived. “Look, I get it. She’s not exactly your favorite person. But if she knows something, we can’t afford to ignore it. This isn’t just about the money, Dante. It’s about control. If someone’s stealing from us, they’re testing our strength. And if we don’t handle it, we’re going to look weak.”

He wasn’t wrong. As much as I hated to admit it, Luca had a point. The missing money wasn’t just an inconvenience—it was a threat. A challenge. And in our world, challenges had to be met head-on.

“Fine,” I said finally, my voice tight. “I’ll be there. But if she tries anything—anything—I’m shutting it down.”

“Understood,” Luca said, nodding.

Rafe raised his cappuccino in a mock toast. “Here’s to a reunion for the ages.”

I shot him a withering look, but he just grinned, clearlyenjoying himself far too much.

The waitress returned with a fresh pot of coffee, and I took the opportunity to refocus, pouring myself a cup and letting the familiar bitterness ground me. The conversation shifted to other matters—logistics, shipments, the forensic accountant’s progress—but my mind kept drifting back to Valentina.

She was a wildcard, a storm I thought I’d weathered years ago. But now, she was back, and whether I liked it or not, she was tied to this mess.

And then there was Emilia.

The thought of her made my chest tighten, a mix of protectiveness and something deeper, something I wasn’t ready to name. She’d been through enough already, and the last thing I wanted was to drag her into the chaos that seemed to follow me everywhere. But I knew better than anyone that our world didn’t care about intentions. It cared about leverage. And Emilia, whether she realized it or not, was mine.

Which meant she was a target.

I’d have to tread carefully. Keep her safe without suffocating her. Protect her without making her feel like a prisoner. It was a delicate balance, one I wasn’t sure I was capable of maintaining. But for her, I’d try.

“Dante,” Luca said, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You with us?”

“Yeah,” I said, setting my coffee down. “I’m here.”

“Good,” Luca said, his tone brisk. “Because the forensic accountant’s report should be ready in a few days, and we need to be prepared for whatever it shows. If this leak is coming from inside, it’s not just about the money—it’s about trust. And someone’s about to lose theirs.”

I nodded, my jaw tightening. Trust. That word carried more weight in our world than most people could understand. It wasn’t just about loyalty; it was about survival. If someone was stealing from us, they weren’t just taking money—they were testing the boundaries of our power. And boundaries had to be enforced.

Rafe leaned back in his chair, his expression more serious now. “I’ve got Matteo keeping an eye on the mid-level guys. If someone’s getting sloppy, he’ll catch it. But if this is coming from higher up…” His voice trailed off, but the implication was clear.

If it was coming from higher up, it meant someone we trusted—someone we’d let into the inner circle—was betraying us. And that kind of betrayal didn’t just end with an apology. It ended with blood.

“We’ll handle it,” I said firmly, my voice leaving no room for doubt. “Whoever it is, they’ll regret it.”

Luca nodded, satisfied, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—concern, maybe, or caution. “And Valentina?” he asked, his tone carefully neutral. “What’s your plan there?”

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair. “I’ll talk to her. See what she knows. But I’m not letting her pull any of her usual games. If she’s involved in this—”

“You’ll handle it,” Luca finished for me, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “Of course you will. You always do.”

Rafe chuckled, shaking his head. “I’d pay good money to see that conversation. Valentina and Dante, back in the ring. My money’s on her, by the way.”

“Funny,” I said dryly, though my patience was wearing thin. “You’re hilarious.”

“Don’t let her get under your skin,” Luca warned, his tone serious again. “She’s good at that. Too good.”

“She won’t,” I said, my voice hard. “Not this time.”

But even as I said the words, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the back of my mind—the memory of Valentina’s sharp smile, her calculating eyes, the way she always seemed to know exactly where to press to make the cracks widen. She was a master manipulator, and I’d been foolish enough to fall for it once.

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