Page 132 of Kiss Me Like I Didn't Kill You
There’s a revolting sort of assurance about him, old power and too many men too frightened to tell him no. He’s delusional enough to believe he still holds the same authority he has in Florence.
I allow the faintest curve of a smile. “You believe you can issue commands in my hospital?”
He steps closer, shoulders straightening, his tailored jacket shifting just enough to expose the edge of a holstered gun. A pitiful attempt at intimidation.
I stand. My gaze flickers once more to Ophelia, it physically hurts to turn from her, but I do.
For now.
When I pass him, I see the smirk falter in his throat. He mistakes my silence for surrender. He’ll learn otherwise.
“Step outside with me,” I say, my tone even.
He scoffs. “Who the hell do you think you are, giving me orders?”
“I assure you,” I reply, “you’ll prefer to hear this in the corridor,privately.”
He studies me, jaw clenched, then finally jerks his chin toward the door. I close it behind us. Isaak gives me a questioning look, but I shake my head.
I’ve got this.
I turn back to Luigi. “I’ll be brief.” My voice is calm. “This isn’t your territory, so your orders mean nothing here. You’re going to walk out of this hospital, leave Ophelia alone, and let her heal in peace. We both know you couldn’t care less for her wellbeing. Before you depart, you will annul that arrangement you struck to marry her off to that odious old man. In its place you will draw up a new contract, one that hands her to me.”
He laughs, deep and ugly, the sound travelling down the corridor.
I wait.
“And if I refuse?” he finally spits.
I incline my head. “Then my courtesy ends. Then I am no longer polite. Then we go to war.”
He laughs again, louder this time, pulling the gun from his holster and pointing it straight at my head. “Give me one good reason not to blow your brains out right now.”
Before I can reply, a voice behind me cleaves the air.
“You did not just aim a gun at my son, Bellanti. Even you cannot be that foolish.”
Luigi’s gaze slides past me. For a moment his composure falters, then he tucks it away and regains the mask of control.
He parts his lips to speak, but I interrupt him before a single word can leave.
“I want nothing further to do with you,” I say. “You will give me your daughter’s hand. Once that is done, our paths part and they do not cross again. Refuse, and I will expose everything you have spent years concealing.”
He snorts. “And what could you possibly have on me, boy?”
I smirk. “More than you’d like. Surprisingly, then again, perhaps not, turns out I picked up a few hacking tricks, and I’m rather good at them. You’d be astonished what you can find when you know where to look and how to remain invisible while doing it.”
His jaw tightens, but I go on. “I’ve been collecting for over a year. Every deal. Every shipment. Including the one you stole from the Bratva and pinned on the cartel.”
The look on his face is almost comical. “Yes. I have proof. If I speak, Isaak Markev, who is standing just beyond that door, will be more than willing to collect what’s his. You will not have only the Bratva after you, there will be the cartel, Dante Salvatore,hell, half the world, hunting you. You won’t last a week, you’ll vanish off the map, and we both know it.”
I step forward. “This is how it plays out. You cancel the marriage contract and sign a new one. Ophelia becomes mine. Hesitate for a second and you’re dead.”
He grits his teeth so hard I can hear it. A vein throbs at his temple. For a second, I think he might actually have a stroke. But he knows I’ve got him.
He jerks his head toward his second in command, then fixes his gaze on me. “Give me thirty minutes,” he says.
“No more than that,” I reply. “Not a second over.”
