It delighted Matteo to know Antonetti had been forced to recognize a bastard. If only because he knew how much it bothered the asshole. The Antonetti name was as old as Bianchi on this island. They’d been allies once, long before Sicily had been swallowed up within Italy’s borders.
There’d been some falling out Matteo couldn’t remember, though he was sure his father had told him the story once. Hard to say how accurate it was, being filtered through so many generations. In any case, it hardly mattered now. Before the spring, the Antonetti name would be finished for good.
Once Antonetti fell and Matteo had control of his hotels and the ports in his territory, the whole of Sicily would be at his command. Everything he’d set out to achieve would be done. Well, almost everything.
Unifying this Bianchi generation so their children and their children’s children would grow up allies instead of adversaries didn’t seem to be going as well. No matter how much he accomplished or how well he proved himself, his brothers and sister were eager to push back at every turn.
His singular focus since returning to Sicily had been to claw his way up from the bottom of the heap and put them comfortably on top. They didn’t need to know the shit he’d waded through to get them to this place, the favors he had to pull, the people he had to sell his soul to.
He didn’t see the need to drag them into the mud he was struggling so hard to get out of himself. When Sicily was his—theirs—maybe he would explain. But not before. What was the point? They just needed to trust him to get them where they wanted to go.
He was already doing it. They only needed to be patient a little while longer. Everything was falling into place.
The heavy glass door opened, and Matteo glanced up to see Maeve enter, carrying a cup of coffee in one hand and a small bag from his favorite bakery in the other. She set both on the table in front of him and moved to stand at his side.
“It’s a pretty straightforward layout. Not as twisted in on itself as I was expecting,” she said, gesturing at the wing Antonetti had added on a few years ago. “You figure it out yet?”
“I’m getting there,” Matteo replied, picking up the latte and taking a sip. Perfect, as it always was. “Are the others on their way?”
“I just sent out the reminder ping. Dom responded first with his usual chipper greeting.”
Matteo sighed. “I’m sorry.”
She waved a hand at him. “Don’t be. You’ve met Roarke.”
Taking another sip, Matteo chuckled, then sobered. “I wish Antonetti would make this easy on me and just give the fucker up.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
Matteo snorted. “What’s he going to accomplish by protecting Drago still? He can’t really think he’ll get the information he wants now that I know he’s looking.”
“He’s probably just trying to buy himself enough time to work another angle. You’ll get Drago yourself and cut him off at the knees.”
“Yeah,” Matteo replied quietly.
He glanced out at the sea of empty cubicles stretching to the elevators. He’d purchased this office building for the express purpose of renting out most of the other floors and using this one as a hub for his newly formed Bianchi Corporation.
The goal was to absorb Gallo Industries under the Bianchi banner and rebuild their reputation within Italy and beyond under new management. Owning the freight company would make transporting drugs to and from the island and across Europe much easier. A far smoother operation than how he was currently doing business.
Closing drug deals from afar was hardly ideal, and he knew he couldn’t lean on Callum and Roarke to cover his ass forever. The plan would come together eventually. The sale of Gallo Industries from Sienna to him would be final in the new year.
Once that was done, he would push ahead with his strategy to weaken and eliminate Antonetti. Then it would be nothing but growth and money and power.
“I hope you didn’t start without us,” Luca said, pushing into the conference room with Sienna on his heels.
Sienna shot him a tentative smile, and Maeve a genuine one, before following Luca around the opposite side of the table and taking a seat. She set a laptop in front of her and opened the lid.
In the last few weeks, Sienna had gone to a salon and let them work magic to dye her hair back to its natural shade of brown. Matteo had to admit it looked better than the ashy blond she’d shown up on their doorstep with.
“You okay with the two of them?” Matteo asked Maeve under his breath.
Maeve looked at Luca and then Matteo and smiled. “Of course. You kept warning him off me anyway. He probably only would have slept with me out of spite.”
“I’m only trying to—”
“I know. You’ll start to sound like Callum in a minute. Protecting my virtue and all.”
Carina and Alexei pushed in before Matteo could reply, and he spotted Dom winding through the maze of empty cubicles through the glass.