Page 2 of The Leader

“Which one is Antonio’s favorite?”

“I don’t think he has one,” Jackson said, scrutinizing the pictures. “Antonio is pretty old-school, which probably means he prefers boys to girls as his heir. He has two sons, Petro and Marco, and one daughter, Gabriella. Petro, the oldest, is dead. He’s also Carmen and Jocelyn’s father. The other son, Marco, left for Europe after a hunting accident that blinded him in one eye. He’s a playboy, living the good life somewhere in Monaco. His daughter, the mother of Mary and Gina, lives in Southern France with her third husband. Antonio is desperate for a strong male heir, someone with the brains and brawn to handle his vast business that has taken a hit since the crisis. He could have just agreed to the amount you offered him, but I guess he wanted to leave Rossi Enterprises to his flesh and blood.”

Antonio Rossi had been the one to introduce their mother to their father. Obviously, his matchmaking days weren’t over.

As the oldest of four, Gio remembered their parents the best. Giacomo Detta, enforcer to a crime syndicate, had been a beast when it came to his job, but a traditional family man that had worshiped his wife. The second he stepped over the threshold of their house, the cold expression on his face disappeared and he became a doting husband. He’d told Gio once that agreeing to marry his mother was the best decision he’d ever made. According to him, when he’d first laid eyes on his future wife, he just knew. He was also convinced that every man worth his salt needed a strong woman. “Take care of your woman and she will take care of you,” had been his father’s credo. Protect and provide. Two words his father had lived by.

Sadly, however, he was dead now. No longer able to give him any life’s advice. Their beautiful mother would never dance with her sons on their wedding day. She would never hold a grandchild in her arms. No one had ever claimed the hit on Giacomo Detta, which was odd. Killing the enforcer of a crime boss was like cutting off his right arm. It was something to boast about, a rite of passage in those circles. Which was the reason they had never believed that their father had become a casualty in a family war. Especially not, since the same night, their mother was murdered as well.

Finding their parents’ murderer had always been their endgame. It had taken them over a decade to find the one responsible, and years to gather the means to make Oscar “The Knife” Bianchi pay.A year ago, Bianchi had been untouchable. But no more. They had slowly been chipping away atthe bastard’sassets until he was close to hitting rock bottom.

Marrying a Rossi girl and taking control of Rossi Enterprises was the final step.

CHAPTER 2

JAZZY

Jazzy looked at the screen of her phone and dread filled her stomach. Her sister had canceled their dinner plans. Again. She had an idea why Carmen suddenly had a “migraine.” Last time she’d made a surprise visit to Carmen, she hadn’t been able to cover up her bruises in time. She sure “fell” down the stairs a lot. Damn it. They were going to have a serious conversation about her fucked-up marriage, and soon. Right after Jazzy wrapped up her current business, which was attending a mandatory brunch back home.

Being the granddaughter of Antonio Rossi—banker to the underworld—came with certain obligations. Such as, when you were summoned by him, you had to show up.

Her cousins, Mary and Gina, were already sitting in the dining room. Her grandfather sat at the head of the table, giving her an impatient look.

“You are late.”

“Sorry,Nonno. I had some business to attend to.”

“It’s always business with you,” he scolded her. “Business and your computer. You should find a man and get married.”

Her grandfather’s views on a woman’s purpose in life were really old; as in, practically ancient. She rolled her eyes, gave him a peck on the cheek, and sat down next to him.

After their brunch had been served, her grandfather cleared his throat.

“Twenty years ago, I lost a very dear friend of mine, Giacomo Detta, enforcer to the Scolini family, in a turf war. Yesterday I met with his sons. Strong, capable men, especially the oldest, Giovanni Detta; or Gio, as his father used to call him. Gio has shown interest in Rossi Enterprises for the past year, and I have finally decided to hand over the reins of the company I built up to the next generation. I never let you girls in on the details of business, but the past few years have been hard. We need his money, or we will go bankrupt.”

A silence descended upon the room, until her oldest cousin broke it.

“What? How did this happen?” Gina looked pale.

Money was kind of Gina’s best friend. Jazzy couldn’t imagine Gina buying something that wasn’t design or couture.

Mary only looked worried. Probably thinking of the possible effect of the bankruptcy on their grandfather’s health. She always put others before herself.

The two sisters looked a lot alike on the surface, except for the way they dressed—Mary’s style was more Free People meets chic, favoring A-line dresses, with little braids in her curly hair.

“I have, however, found a simple solution for our problem,” their grandfather continued. “I offered to hand over my shares in Rossi Enterprises to Giovanni, in exchange for him marrying one of my granddaughters. He agreed. He gave me his word that the marriage will last for at least two years. That should be enough time to produce him an heir, solidifying your place in the Detta household. Gio will be joining us for dinner, to meet you girls. I expect to see all of you at this table tonight.”

And just like that, Jazzy lost her appetite. “I’m feeling nauseous all of a sudden. Please excuse me, so I don’t puke all over this table.” Refusing to listen to another word, she got up and went to change into her track clothes. She desperately needed to clear her mind.

***

When Jazzy returned from her afternoon run, she found Gina in the hallway.

“Don’t forget to sprinkle on some Chanel on your fancy dress,” Jazzy said, earning a dirty look from Gina who, as usual, was prettying herself up in front of a mirror.

Unlike Mary and Gina, Jazzy hadn’t stayed long enough to listen to the specifics of the bombshell their grandfather had dropped on them. It wasn’t hard to figure out why Gina had remained sitting at the table. Her oldest cousin was born to be arm candy to some rich, powerful man. And Mary, well, she was too polite to tell someone off, let alone their grandfather.

Jazzy, however, wasn’t afraid to flip anyone the bird, even if it was hernonno. That is, she wasn’t afraid to do it mentally. Though the ornery man sometimes drove her crazy, she did love him and would never disrespect him that way. Didn’t mean she would keep sitting at the table listening to some archaic bullshit about an arranged marriage, though. She wouldn’t ever entertain the possibility of willingly chaining herself to this Detta guy. Her goal was to extract herself from this life, not to further get pulled into it. She had plans for her future; plans that didn’t involve some overbearing asshole, like this Detta no doubt was.

---