Page 36 of Savage Union
"You did kill her father in front of her," Marco points out.
"I also saved her from him." The defense comes automatically, though I know it's not how she sees it. "Tomasso Gallo was selling girls Sofia's age. His own daughter could have been next."
"You think she knows that?"
"I told her." I straighten a cufflink. "Whether she believes me is another matter."
Marco leans back in his chair, studying me with eyes that see too much. He's one of the few people in my orbit who knew me before I became Don—before I had to become what the family needed.
"Permission to speak freely?" he asks.
"When do you not?"
His smile is brief. "The Commission wants this marriage to create stability, but keeping her locked up like a prisoner isn't going to achieve that. The Irish are already using it aspropaganda—saying you had to kidnap a bride because no woman would willingly align with you."
My jaw tightens. "I don't care what they say."
"Maybe you should. This isn't just about you and her anymore. It's becoming a test of your leadership."
I move to the table, flipping through the surveillance reports. "What do you suggest? That I just let her go?"
"No. But maybe give her a bit more freedom." He shrugs. "Some space to breathe. Take her out. Let people see you together. Make it look more... willing."
"She'll try to escape."
"Then make sure she doesn't want to." He leans forward. "Look, you've already given her the phone, right? That was smart. A gesture. Keep going with that. Show her there are benefits to cooperation. Maybe she'll be too content to give you attitude."
I scoff. "You don't know Caterina."
"True." Marco grins. "But I know women. And I know captivity breeds resentment, not loyalty."
I consider his words, turning the logic over in my mind. There's sense in what he says. The Commission expects to see progress toward a stable alliance. Keeping Caterina under lock and key indefinitely isn't sustainable—not if I want her to eventually play the role of Donna with any conviction.
"Fine," I concede. "I'll give her more freedom. Supervised."
"Good." He nods, satisfied. "You might even discover she's not as difficult as you think when she's not fighting against a cage."
"I doubt that." But there's less conviction in my voice than I intended.
"Either way, the optics will be better." Marco gathers the photos, placing them back in a folder. "And right now,perception matters. The families are watching how you handle this. So are our enemies."
"Speaking of enemies," I redirect the conversation to more comfortable territory, "what's the latest on our missing shipment?"
Marco's expression shifts to business mode. "Rafa thinks he's traced it. Some of the guys picked up chatter about a warehouse outside the city, near Nyack. Isolated. Heavy security for a location that's supposedly abandoned."
"Irish?"
"Can't confirm yet. Could be them, could be the Russians, could be our leak selling to a third party." Marco hands me a satellite image of a nondescript industrial building surrounded by scrubby trees. "Dante's running surveillance, should have confirmation by tomorrow."
I study the image, committing the layout to memory. "If it's ours, I want it back. And I want whoever took it made an example of."
"Understood." Marco hesitates, then adds, "If it is the Irish... this could be the start of something bigger."
"It already is." I place the image back in the folder. "This isn't just about a shipment. Costello is testing me—seeing how I'll respond, looking for weakness."
"And how will you respond?"
I meet his gaze steadily. "Decisively."
