Page 44 of Brutal Union
Heat floods my face, but I don't deny it. "That's different."
"Is it? He's using you for legitimacy, for control, for whatever psychological need you fill. You're using him for protection, for purpose, for…" he pauses, studying me with those green eyes that see too much. "Well, that's the question, isn't it? What are you using my brother for?"
The question cuts deeper than intended. "I don't use him."
"No?" Alex's smile shifts, becomes something more genuine. "Then you're either lying or you're in love. And sweetheart, in our world, those might as well be the same thing. Love is just another currency here. You spend it, you hoard it, or you weaponize it."
"Marco isn't like you."
"No, he's not." Alex's expression turns thoughtful. "He doesn't collect women like butterflies. He collected you, singular, and now he's done. Man's been celibate for two years, did you know that? Two years of nothing but work and violence, then you throw wine in his face and suddenly he's obsessed."
"I didn't know that," I admit, the information shifting something in my chest. My body's reaction to him makes more sense now. All that pent-up hunger focused solely on me.
"He's different with you," Alex continues, leaning against the wall with casual elegance that doesn't hide the weapon beneath his jacket. "I've known my brother his whole life. He's never actually cared if someone stays or goes. People are chess pieces to him, useful or not, but never essential."
"And now?"
"Now he lets you read his strategy books. Lets you leave the penthouse alone. Trusts you with family secrets." Alex's green eyes pin me in place. "Do you understand how unprecedented that is? Marco trusts no one, not fully. Not even us. But you… you he trusts. And trust, in our world, is deadlier than any bullet."
"He shouldn't," I whisper, remembering the power I wielded last night, how easily I could destroy him if I wanted.
"Probably not. Trust makes him vulnerable. And Marco Rosetti vulnerable is either the most dangerous thing in Chicago, or the weakest. Haven't figured out which yet."
"You sound worried."
"I'm always worried when my brother thinks he's invincible. And right now, he thinks having you makes him untouchable." Alex pushes off from the wall. "Your father's been busy today, by the way. Setting up meetings, making calls. Word on the street is he's planning something big with the Irish."
My blood chills. "Marco knows?"
"Of course he knows. He's got eyes everywhere." Alex's smile is sharp as a blade. "But knowing and acting on it are different things. He's hesitating because it's your father. Because hurting him hurts you."
"My father deserves whatever comes." The words taste like truth and treason both.
"Maybe. But Marco's weighing your feelings above strategy. That's new. That's dangerous." Alessandro steps closer, voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "Your father's got the O'Briens fully committed now. That rejected wedding was insult enough, but taking Alice? That's declaration of war. And there are whispers that some Russians are interested in the chaos."
"Marco isn't weak."
"No, but he's distracted. By you. By this thing between you that neither of you will name." His laugh is bitter. "Love makesmen stupid, principessa. Makes them think they're invincible when they're really just exposed. Makes them hesitate when they should strike."
I think of Marco this last night, the way he held me after I knelt for him, the way he looked at me like I was everything. The way his hands shook slightly when he thought I wasn't looking. "You think he loves me?"
"I think my brother would burn Chicago to keep you safe. Already started, hasn't he? That rescue yesterday wasn't strategy. It was pure emotion." Alex's expression is serious now, all trace of his usual charm gone. "He's got something planned, something big. Either it'll secure your position forever or get him killed trying."
"You're being dramatic."
"Am I? When's the last time you saw him truly relaxed? Not pretending, not performing control, but actually at ease?"
I can't answer because he's right. Even in sleep, Marco's wound tight, ready for violence. Even when he comes, there's tension in him, like he's waiting for attack.
"He can't be both invincible and vulnerable," Alex continues. "Either love makes him stronger, or it makes him dead. In our world, there's rarely middle ground. The men who love too much die first."
"Then what do you suggest?"
"Stop pretending. Both of you. Whatever this is, commit to it fully or walk away." He laughs at my expression. "Yes, I know he'd never let you walk. But you could make him, if you really wanted. Tell him you hate him, mean it, break whatever hold you have on him. He'd let you go rather than keep you hating him. He's got that much pride left."
"You think I have a hold on him?"
"Sweetheart, you own him. Body, soul, and trigger finger. Question is what you're going to do with that power. Becausepower unused is power wasted, and power misused gets everyone killed."
