She's pregnant… seriously?
The fact that her father owed me would've been enough. But I'd be damned if I let those vultures tag her like property.
I sit there with the hum of the lamp and the city and my own heartbeat, and for a second, I let my head hit the back of my chair.
I lied to my brother.
I lied in a way you can't walk back without leaving shoe prints in concrete.
What the fuck was I thinking?
Just then, the phone on my desk rings, the landline that only a handful of people have that number to.
None of them ever calls with good news.
I pick up, already knowing who it'll be. "Moretti."
"Luca." Don Salvatore Fiorello's voice creaks through the line, ancient and unyielding as the man himself.
At ninety-two, he's the oldest member of the Council, and arguably the most powerful. "We need to talk."
"Don Fiorello. What can I do for you?"
"This engagement of yours. The Council has... concerns."
"Concerns?" I feel my stomach hollow out. "With all due respect, my personal life?—"
"Is the family's business," he cuts in. "Especially when it involves bringing an outsider into the inner circle."
I bite back the string of curses that comes to mind. "What do you need?"
"The Council will need to meet with her."
"She's not ready for that," I argue.
"This isn't a request, Luca." His tone hardens. "We meet immediately."
My hand tightens on the receiver, and the line goes dead before I can argue further.
Fuck. Whatever Declan told them, I know he's kept the pregnancy a secret.
My brother, the viper, would never lose such a strong hold.
But this is spiraling out of control faster than I anticipated.
Now I'm flying Belle to Italy to face five of the most dangerous old men I know.
What the actual fuck am I doing?
I need to find Belle. Now.
I find her in Sofia's bedroom, drawing.
She looks up, and Sofia frowns. "Daddy. You're bothering us!"
Since when did I become an intruder, and my kid start loving Belle this much?
And it hits me right in the chest—this tiny traitor of mine already picked a side, and I'm not complaining.