“You don’t want me to kill Luca Donato.” Nero leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the desk. “Give me a good reason not to, little girl.”
The smile on his face was mocking, and I supposed to a man like him, I would seem ridiculous. A naïve girl getting emotional about her brother. I had no doubt he was humoring me, maybe for Gio’s sake. Or even Una’s.
I swallowed heavily, feeling the weight of Gio’s gaze from across the room, but I focused on Nero—he was the one I had to convince. “You want the capos to turn on my family, but it’s not that easy. My uncle will have made sure of that. He’s smarter than he seems.”
“Don’t we fucking know it,” Jackson mumbled under his breath.
Nero tilted his head to the side. “I don’t want anything. Gio is the one trying to negotiate some peaceful surrender.” He glanced at Gio as though the notion disappointed him. “I vote we just kill them all.”
Panic washed through me. “That would leave a power vacuum,” I blurted, winging this for all I was worth and trying to recall snippets of conversation I’d heard between my father and my brothers over the years.
I didn’t like the mafia, but in that house, it was often either mafia politics and shooting guns with my brothers or learning to cook with my mother. I chose the former.
“The Irish are your enemies, too, right? You’d hand them Chicago. They’d absorb all Outfit territory and become more powerful.”
Fuck, now Nero looked pissed.
Silence descended on the room, and I felt stupid. Who was I to tell a man like him how to fight a war? No one.
The tension burst when Una laughed, clapping her hands together. “She has a point.” Her violet gaze swept over me. “First a princess, then a killer, then a strategist. You are full of surprises.” She swept her hand out. “Go on, tell them what you propose.” The twitch of her lips told me she knew exactly where I was heading with this.
I nodded and met Nero’s intimidating gaze. “You can control The Outfit.”
“The capos would never remain loyal to us,” Gio argued, shifting until he was leaning against the wall across from me. His arms folded over his chest, and I tried to ignore his flexing biceps, the casual grace with which he held himself, but it was impossible.
“No, but they will to the Donato name.” I sucked in a deep breath, barely able to force my next words past my lips, but this was the only way I could think of right now. The only thing I could do to save Luca. “If I marry Gio, he has a weak claim.”
“No.” Gio’s objection shouldn’t have stung quite as much as it did.
I mean, I’d never wanted to marry him, and right now, I hated him, but did he have to sound so vehement?
I ignored him, turning my attention to Nero, the one who would ultimately override Gio’s objections. For a moment, I felt like an asshole because Nero would do to Gio what my uncle had done to me. But for Luca… “With both my brother’s support, it would be enough. Let them run it and answer to you.”
Nero leaned back in his chair, staring at me as he tapped an index finger over his bottom lip. “A puppet mafia.”
“Luca and Renzo are both respected enough…” Luca would hate the idea of bowing to the Famiglia, but he would surely see reason.
“No.” Gio moved to stand in front of me now. “No, Emilia.”
I sucked in a sharp breath before pushing to my feet. “You didn’t give a fuck about marrying me for your bullshit alliance.” The least he could do was marry me for mine. I offered him a cool smile. “You should be happy, Giovanni. Now you’ll get a whole mafia in exchange for marrying me.”
His jaw ticced, and as we had our stand-off, the rest of the room fell into silence. Tension thrummed between us, lust and hate and pain circling, nipping at my heels.
“You are such a hypocritical bastard. Am I not good enough for you now?” I stepped closer to him and jabbed him in the chest. “Because you’re the asshole who chased me across two countries just to ‘claim me.’” I shook my head, beyond pissed. “You know—”
One second he was standing there; the next, he threw me over his shoulder.
“Gio! Put me down.”
“Meeting over,” he barked before striding from the room.
12
EMILIA
Jackson’s laughter faded as Gio stalked down the hall. I smacked his back as he ascended the stairs, though it had zero effect. He was such a condescending, hypocritical asshole, but worse, he was robbing me of a chance to actually help Luca.
Blood rushed from my head when he put me down, and my vision swam before the gray walls of his bedroom came into focus, then his face. Right before I slapped it.