Marco shakes his head. "That's too risky. We need to be smart about this. Maybe we can still negotiate, find a diplomatic solution?—"
"Diplomatic?" Gio scoffs. "They killed our men, Marco. They're pissing on our territory. Diplomacy is dead."
"But—"
I hold up a hand, silencing them both. The gears in my mind are spinning, weighing the consequences of each path I'm coming up with. The businessman in me sees the logic in Marco's approach, but the part of me that was forged in the Bonventi way of doing things screams for vengeance.
"We can't let this stand," I say finally, my voice cold and firm. "One of theirs, a fucking rat no less, isn't equal to three of ours. But we're not going to rush in half-cocked either."
I turn to Gio. "I want eyes on every Rossi operation in the city. Find their weak points, their vulnerabilities, and report back to me when you do. From there, we'll find a way to respond."
"Send them all to fucking hell," Gio says, a grin spreading across his face.
"And Marco, reach out to your contacts in the police department. Make sure this and any retaliation from us gets swept under the rug. And start putting out feelers with the other families. We might need allies before this is over."
Marco nods. "You got it."
"And once we bring this to you, then what?" Gio asks, always itching for combat.
"Once we've got intel, and we're thinking clearly, we're going to remind the Rossis why the Bonventi name is feared in this city," I say and lean back in my chair. "And when we're done, they'll wish they'd never touched what's ours."
There's a moment of silence as we contemplate our next moves.
Then, unexpectedly, Gio's face breaks into a sly grin.
"Okay, you've eased my mind about those pigs. Now, speaking of what's ours," he says, his tone shifting dramatically, "how's the future Mrs. Bonventi treating you? I hear from Marco that things are going well."
Marco catches on immediately, his earlier grimness replaced by his signature political smile. "We couldn't help but notice you were unavailable last night. You've never not been available."
"Yeah, that's true. Zo, you've always been on the line when we call," Gio says.
"I don't see how that's relevant to our current situation."
Gio lets out a bark of laughter. "Oh, it's relevant alright. Our fearsome leader, too busy to answer his phone, because of a woman no less."
"I'm not—" I start to defend myself, but Marco cuts me off.
"Face it, Enzo. You're whipped," he says, laughing.
I open my mouth to argue, to maintain my usual stoic demeanor, but something stops me. Maybe it's the stress of the situation with the Rossis, or maybe it's the lingering warmth I feel from my time with Livia, but suddenly, I don't want to pretend anymore.
"You know what?" I say, surprising even myself. "Maybe I am."
Gio and Marco exchange shocked glances.
"I'm the happiest I've ever been," I continue, the words pouring out now. "Livia, she's unlike anyone I've ever known. It feels like the first time I've ever truly connected with someone."
My brothers stare at me, clearly taken aback by my uncharacteristic openness.
"Well, shit," Gio finally says, his voice soft. "I'll be damned."
Marco nods, a genuine smile replacing his teasing one. "I'm happy for you. We're happy for you," he says, waving a hand between him and Gio.
"Sure, sure we are. I'll buy you a bottle of champagne once these Rossis are dealt with," Gio says.
"Have you taken her to La Sfera Nera?" Marco asks.
I shake my head. "No, I am tonight."