Page 11 of Secret Baby for the Mafia Don
Anger burns in my chest.
Flipping through the pages, I see profit margins declining, security incidents at three of our warehouses, and shipment losses at the docks.
All within the last six months.
All in my father's territory.
A separate document catches my eye. It’s a map of our territory with red circles around vulnerable locations.
Warehouses, clubs, distribution centers.
Next to each circle are notes in Marco's precise handwriting.
Security inadequate,Management issues,Requires intervention.
Intervention. Is that what he calls it?
The puzzle pieces click together in my mind.
The security breaches, the lost shipments, Dad's increasingly erratic decisions.
Marco's been orchestrating this.
Creating problems, exposing weaknesses, preparing to swoop in and take over when Dad can no longer maintain control.
And Luca's thousands of miles away, leaving us exposed because these male chauvinists won’t let me into their club.
I take out my phone and snap photos of everything. Evidence. Proof that Marco Calabresi is the snake I've suspected him to be.
I feel sick that I once trusted him. That I let him touch me. How I nearly fell in?—
No. I won't go there. That was a mistake. I’d misread who Marco was.
I’d thought he was a man who hid his true nature because of a traumatic childhood.
I learned in reality, he is a man without a soul.
I slip the map back into the folder, feeling vindicated.
There have been times I thought I was being paranoid, but here's the proof.
Marco's been systematically undermining my father's operations.
Planning, calculating, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
The betrayal burns since I know my father helped Marco when he was thrust into the role of Don at a young age.
This is how he repays him. Asshole!
I check his desk, needing to make sure everything is just as I found it.
The door clicks open.
My heart stops mid-beat.
"Find what you're looking for, Gabriella?" Marco stands in the doorway, one hand still on the knob, his expression unreadable. The air between us charges with tension so thick I can barely breathe.
I straighten my spine, refusing to cower. "Actually, yes. Quite the operation you've been running. Monitoring my father's territory, documenting weaknesses, planning your takeover."
