Page 72 of The Underboss's Secret Twins
That wasn’t a question. That was a mistake.
18
MARCO
Diego knows he’s just crossed a line. The question is whether he’s smart enough to walk it back.
"You dare question my loyalty?" My voice is quiet, but it cuts through the humid afternoon air like a razor.
Diego straightens, forcing his shoulders back. "I didn’t mean?—"
I lunge in a sharp, brutal movement. My hand snaps out, gripping the front of his shirt, dragging him closer until our noses nearly touch. The others don’t interfere. They wouldn’t dare.
"Say it again," I murmur, my voice utterly calm, almost lazy. The kind of calm that should make a man’s blood run cold.
A slow ripple runs beneath his skin, something restrained but restless. His throat tightens around a hard swallow. "I just meant?—"
"You meant to challenge me," I cut in, my grip turning unrelenting. "You meant to say, in front of my men, that I can’t be trusted."
The others—three soldiers in their mid-thirties, loyal but not stupid—watch with unease. They won’t back Diego up, butthey also won’t forget what just happened here. They’re waiting. Gauging my reaction.
That’s what this is. A test.
This is not Luca’s doing. I wondered, for one second, if he was doing this to challenge my loyalty to Sofia. No, if this were Luca, he’d come at me directly and ask me to back the fuck away. Luca didn’t plant this seed of doubt. It grew on its own.
I let go of Diego with a sharp shove, sending him stumbling back half a step. He doesn’t fall, but the message is clear. He knows he’s overstepped. He just doesn’t know what will happen next.
I tilt my head, considering him.
"You’re young," I say. "New to the family. Maybe you don’t understand how things work yet."
His jaw flexes, but he holds his tongue.
I narrow my eyes at him. "You don’t question my decisions. You don’t question my loyalty. And if you have doubts, you keep them to your fucking self."
I let the silence hang for a beat longer, letting him feel it.
Then I step back. "Get out of my sight."
Diego winces—just for a fraction of a second—but then he nods stiffly and turns, walking away, his movements tense. The other men exchange looks before following.
I don’t watch them go.
Instead, I turn and glance back toward the estate. The walls loom high, cast in sharp contrast against the afternoon sun, a fortress built to withstand anything. A legacy of power. A kingdom, in all but name.
But a kingdom is only as strong as the men who hold the line.
And right now, they’re watching me.
Waiting for a misstep.
It’s not the first time my loyalty has been questioned. Not the first time men have whispered behind my back. But this feelsdifferent because they’re watching me in relation to the woman at my side, trying to gauge if I’ll put her before the family business. They think she’s a weakness.
They think she’s pulling me in a direction that doesn’t serve the family.
And that? That’s a problem.
Because Luca might be the one who sits at the head of this family, but I’ve always been the one who holds it together. The one who stands at his right hand, trusted beyond question. The one who handles things in the dark so the Salvatores can shine in the light.
