Page 76 of Rosetti Family New York
Her eyes widen, incredulous. “I can’t leave the lab!”
“I can’t risk you staying in the city,” I say. “You’ll work at the Rosetti estate. I’ll arrange everything.”
She shakes her head, a stubborn set to her jaw. “I can’t just relocate. Not like this. The equipment—”
“You can’t finish it if you’re dead.” My voice is steady, but my pulse kicks up. I can’t lose this advantage. Not now.
Clara crosses her arms, determination setting her features.
"I can’t leave," she argues, the words firm despite the panic she showed moments ago. “I can’t work without the entire lab. We’re talking millions of dollars of equipment. Everything is bolted down, calibrated precisely.” Her eyes are fierce, daring me to challenge her. “You can’t just load it all on the back of a truck and expect—”
“You can’t finish if you’re a corpse,” I cut in, but she’s not listening.
She’s on a tirade, desperate to make me understand what seems so obvious to her.
“It will take months to recalibrate! It’ll set us back.”
Months—the word is a jab. Months would kill the launch.
“If you’re hit, we lose it all,” I tell her.
“Dom, we’re so close!” She’s pleading now, hair tousling as she gestures in frustration. “I have to stay where I am. Please”
She’s stubborn, I’ll give her that. I want to lock this down tight. But if Clara’s right, if moving slows us down this much, then no one will waste time taking her out. They’ll just bypass us, beat us to the market, and we lose everything anyway. This breakthrough, this entire project, turns worthless. It’s a riskeither way. I weigh it, fast and precise, and her eyes follow mine, her life’s work weighing on my answer.
I nod, brief and decisive. “Fine, you stay at the lab. Rafe will double your security.”
Rafe nods, more of a shrug, and I know what he’s thinking: she’s a liability. If we lose the chemist, we lose the business.
Clara looks between us. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“Good. Thank you,” she says.
“What was that about a purity issue? I need pure product, blissful high, minimal aftereffects. Is that going to be a problem?”
She shakes her head. “No, no, nothing to worry about. Just a technical issue we’re sorting through.”
“Tell me as soon as that changes. Anything else to report?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. So, same time next week? Can’t we do these updates over the phone?”
I narrow my eyes. “You’re smarter than that.”
Clara shrugs, then disappears into the crowd, lost again in the sea of people and music. I keep my eyes on her until she’s out of sight, then nod at two of my men to follow her out. They’ll watch her home safely and stick outside her house until I tell them otherwise.
Rafe throws back another drink, swallows it down like it’s water. He’s watching me with those cold eyes again like he’s amused by the whole damn situation.
“You should take bets, see which gets you killed first. The chemist or your blushing new bride,” he says.
The jab hits home, and he knows it.
Rafe leans back, waiting to see how I’ll react. He loves it when things get messy, when the pressure builds and he’s got a front-row seat. This is no different.
“We’re not married yet,” I grind out.
Rafe barks out a laugh. “Tomorrow isn’t far away, buddy.”
The old man’s plans are a weight around my neck, dragging me down at the worst time. Sal’s decided to strengthen our alliances with the Albanians of all people, the fucking Albanians, and my head’s the one on the line. A wife as leverage. A bride as payment. It’s a move so damn reckless it could blow up the second the vows are spoken.
