Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
"You look like shit," I offered, pushing a glass his way.
"Feel worse." He sank into a chair, rubbing his shaved head. "Been a long day of following paper trails that shouldn't exist."
Angelo and Rocco showed up next. The twins looked different these days: Angelo all steel and sharp edges, Rocco like he was barely containing something explosive. They moved differently now, in a way that made me think we were all changing.
Vincenzo slipped in after them, quiet as always but carrying that tension in his shoulders I wasn't used to seeing. Even his usual precise movements seemed weighted tonight.
Luca sauntered in next, wound tight despite the hour. The way he immediately sprawled in his chair like he owned the place almost made me smile. Almost.
Giuliano arrived last, cutting through the quiet like a blade. One look at his face and I knew tonight wasn't just about business.
"Starting early?" Rocco headed straight for the good scotch, the one I kept for nights like this.
"Not early if you haven't slept."
"There is movement on the west side. Vittorio's pulling pieces together," Vincenzo said from his spot by the bar.
"Always the bearer of bad news," Luca drawled from his sprawled position. "Tell me something good for once."
"Like what's got Giuliano changing house rules?" Rocco's grin was all edge. "This morning was... interesting."
"Interesting isn't the word I'd use." Giuliano's voice cut through the conversation. "Report."
"Straight to business then." Nico moved forward, hands spreading over the papers he'd brought. "Your warehouse theory was right. Three times the volume moving through Divino's old routes, all under companies that don't exist."
"He's getting sloppy," Vincenzo noted. "Too many loose ends."
"Or confident," Angelo countered. "Think about it: he's pushing into old territory, not even trying to hide the paper trail..."
"Because he thinks he's untouchable," Rocco finished, a familiar darkness creeping into his voice. "Same as when he killed Dad."
"Different this time," I said quietly. "We've got something he wants."
The air shifted. None of us needed to say her name.
"She knows those operations," Nico said carefully. "Grew up watching them."
"No." Giuliano's response was immediate. "She's not getting involved."
"A bit late for that." Luca sprawled in his chair. "Or did you miss how she handled herself at breakfast?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Come on," Rocco snorted. "We all saw her walk in. Like she owned the place."
"Like she belonged there," Angelo said softly, and something in his tone made us all pause.
The silence stretched, heavy with things we'd all been avoiding.
"Fuck it, I'll say it." Luca knocked back his drink. "We're all thinking it. The way she's getting under everyone's skin. How she sees each of us differently but perfectly."
"Careful," Nico warned, but there wasn't much heat in it.
"She makes me want to be gentle again," Vincenzo admitted quietly. "Haven't felt that in years."
"She laughs at my jokes," Luca said. "Real ones. Not the fake shit I'm used to."
"It's more than that though." I found myself saying what we'd all been dancing around. "The way she fits. With all of us."
"Christ." Giuliano ran a hand through his hair. "You realize what you're suggesting?"
"Wouldn't be the first time we've shared something valuable," Vincenzo pointed out carefully.
"She's not a territory negotiation," Nico growled.
"No," I agreed. "She's more important."
"To all of us," Angelo added softly.
The truth of it hung in the air. Finally, Giuliano spoke:
"If we do this—if we even consider this—it has to be her choice. No pressure, no games."
"Agreed," I said immediately. "She sets the pace."
"And Vittorio?" The darkness in Rocco's voice promised violence.
"Let him come." Giuliano's eyes were pure ice. "He lost any claim to her the second he caged her."
"So we're really doing this?" Luca asked, something like wonder in his voice. "All of us?"
"If she wants it," I said. "If she chooses it."
"And if she doesn't?" Angelo's question carried weight.
"Then we protect her anyway," Giuliano said firmly. "She's ours now. Whether she takes one of us or all of us or none of us."
My phone buzzed; another report from the docks. Vittorio's men moving in formation. The details made something cold settle in my gut—strange construction permits, specialized storage facilities with requirements I'd never seen in legitimate shipping manifests. Something about the patterns felt wrong in a way that made my skin crawl. Whatever Vittorio was planning, it wasn't just about territory anymore.
I tucked the phone away. Some revelations were too dark for tonight, not when we'd finally acknowledged what was growing between all of us and Pearl. Tomorrow's meeting would come soon enough. Tonight was about something else entirely.
"Let him come," Giuliano said softly, dangerously. "We've got something worth fighting for now."
Looking at these men—my brothers in everything but blood—I knew we'd stand together, no matter what came next.
Like it was always meant to be.
21
VITTORIO
The lock of Pearl's hair gleamed between my fingers, silk-soft and darker than I remembered.
She was sixteen years old when I took this one, the night after catching her trying to cut it herself. That defiance had cost her a month in isolation, watching her spirit dim day by day until she learned. They always learned.