Page 43 of Devil's Embrace
I lowered my gun slowly, my heart pounding in my ears.Around us, Junior's men stood frozen, waiting to see what would happen next.Luca's gaze swept over them, cold and assessing.
"Anyone else care to challenge my leadership?"he asked, his voice carrying to every corner of the destroyed foyer.
Silence answered him.One by one, the men kneeled, heads bowed in submission.The display should have sickened me—this medieval ritual of fealty in a modern mansion filled with dead bodies.Instead, I felt only relief.Relief that it was over.Relief that Mina would be safe.
Luca turned to me, the silver gun still in his hand.Blood spattered his white shirt, though whether it was his or Junior's, I couldn't tell.His gaze searched mine, looking for judgment, for fear, for rejection.
I held his gaze steadily, refusing to look away.I had made my choice when I'd thrown that decanter.When I'd stood by his side against Junior.When I'd accepted the gun he'd offered me and used it to protect what was mine.
"It's done."His words were soft, meant only for me to hear.
"Yes.It's done."
Around us, Luca's men emerged from doorways and corridors, securing the space, checking the fallen, reporting status in clipped, professional tones.Mateo was dead.His son was dead.The Moretti family had a new undisputed leader.
And that leader was looking at me like I was the only thing in the room that mattered.
"Let's get Mina."I handed him back the gun he'd given me."She'll be worried."
He nodded, placing a hand at the small of my back as we turned away from the carnage.The gesture was proprietary, protective, intimate.I should have pulled away.Instead, I leaned slightly into his touch, allowing myself to take comfort in his strength, just for this moment.
Tomorrow I would think about what all this meant—the blood on our hands, the choices we'd made, the future stretching before us.But for now, I had only one thought: My daughter was safe.And the man beside me had helped make it so.
Chapter Fourteen
Luca
The ledgers never lied.Numbers, territories, profits—they told the cold truth of an empire built on blood and fear.I leaned back in my leather chair, fingers drumming against the polished mahogany of my desk as dawn broke over the compound.Three days since I'd put a bullet through Mateo, Junior's skull.Three days of reorganization, of tightening security, of watching my men's faces for any sign of lingering loyalty to the old regime.Three days of waking up to the unexpected reality of Emory and Mina just down the hall, alive and unharmed because of choices I'd made that would have been unthinkable a week ago.
I rubbed my eyes, the sting of exhaustion a dull companion I'd grown accustomed to.Sleep had become a luxury, snatched in brief intervals between security briefings and damage control.The Moretti empire wouldn't stabilize itself.
A sharp knock at the door interrupted my thoughts."Enter," I called, my voice automatically shifting to the hard, authoritative tone my men expected.
Marco entered first, followed by Antonio and three of my other top lieutenants.Their faces were carefully neutral, but I'd learned to read the tension in their shoulders, the way their eyes darted around the room before settling on me.
"Report."I straightened the papers before me.
Marco stepped forward."The Bianchi family has acknowledged your message.They'll respect the new territorial boundaries in exchange for the shipping routes we discussed."
"And the Calabrese crew?"I already knew the answer from the slight tightening of Antonio's jaw.
"Still testing," Antonio replied."They moved three men into the waterfront district last night."
I nodded slowly, letting the silence stretch just long enough for discomfort to settle over them."Remove them.Make it public."
No one questioned what "remove" meant.No one needed to.
"The Russo territory?"My gaze drifted briefly to the small framed photo on my desk.Mina's smile, caught in a moment of pure joy as she played in the garden yesterday.I'd ordered the photo printed and framed without fully understanding why.
Vincent cleared his throat."As instructed, we've moved our people in.Their operations have been absorbed with minimal resistance."
"Their top lieutenants?"
"Two have pledged loyalty.Three refused."
My hand moved to the fountain pen beside the ledger, turning it absently as I made my decision."The two who pledged—keep them under surveillance for six months.Triple their quotas.If they meet them without complaint, they can keep their positions."I paused, letting my gaze harden."The other three need to disappear.Quietly.I don't want a bloodbath that attracts police attention."
The men nodded, accepting my orders without question.This was the world I'd inherited, the world I'd mastered.Cold calculations of loyalty and betrayal, life and death.The currency of power.
