Page 26 of Dark Mafia Heir

The patio is decorated with pink and white flowers and ribbons. The aisle is lined with chairs covered in ribbons at both sides, and from the corner of my eyes, I catch a glimpse of someone who shouldn’t be here.

Salvatore Russo, head of the Camorra. We’d been at cold war for years since Dante became the capo, and neither of our families had bothered to form an alliance or even cross each other’s territories now.

“Which one of you invited that old bastard to my wedding?” I ask, my gaze bouncing from Luca and Lorenzo to Dario.

None of them answer.

I’ve tried to keep this wedding a secret from those outside my alliance group. If Salvatore is here, it means one of my men snitched, and I have to find out who it was before the rat gives out more information to my enemies.

Lorenzo leans in. “I can ask him to leave.”

I shake my head. “That won’t be necessary.”

While I am certain Peter and Salvatore are far from allies, I cannot poke Salvatore in the wrong rib. I can’t risk him running to Peter to run his mouth.

The fact that he dared to come here means he wants something, my attention, or perhaps a deal.

Whichever one it is, I have to hear him out first and weigh my options.

Salvatore smiles and waves at me from where he stands across the patio.

I walk over to him, wearing the fakest smile I can find. “Well, well, if it isn’t the devil himself.”

He scoffs, taking me in with so much arrogance in his eyes.

I clench my fist, fighting the urge to gauge those ugly eyes of his out.

“For someone who kidnapped a girl from her engagement dinner and is forcing said girl to marry him,” Salvatore says, “you’re more of a devil than I’ll ever be.”

I snort. Sick bastard. “Why are you here?”

“Let me see.” He taps his thin, wrinkled lips and pretends to think. “I wonder what Peter’s reaction will be when he finds out about this little wedding of yours.”

I stare him down, cursing at the way he gets on my last nerves with such little effort. I drop the façade of a smile and wear my cold mask. “It is not a wise choice to threaten me in my own home, Salvatore.”

“Threaten you?” He tsks. “I wouldn’t dare. I am here to offer a proposal.”

I spot Mariana standing with Dario and Ginny. It’s a struggle not to let my attention drift to them. “This proposal of yours better be worth my time.”

Salvatore chuckles. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the ongoing war between the Bratva and the Irish Mob.”

“What about it?”

His brows shoot up to his receding hairline. “You may not be aware, but Malachy encroached on my territory eight years ago. There’s no better time for me to get back at him than now.”

I heave a sigh as disgust creeps up my throat. The bastard may not notice, but I’m bored of this conversation. “How do I come in the mix?”

He smiles. “Good question. You’re closer to the Irish territories than I am. I need you to help me take it.”

My horselaugh escapes from my throat. “Me? I didn’t realize we’d established the type of relationship where we help each other, Salvatore. That’s impressive!”

“Think of everything we could have,” he urges in a near whisper. “We could run this world together, Antonio. We could find Dante’s killer as quickly as we could snap our fingers. Everything will be ours, you and me.”

My nostrils flare at the mention of Dante’s name from his filthy mouth. “Don’t ever mention his name again. Dante would be turning in his grave if he knew this stupid plan of yours.”

“Watch it, boy?—”

“No. You fucking watch it!” I growl. I don’t give a fuck if all eyes are on us now. “Don’t forget on whose ground you stand. I am not Dante; I can make you vanish with just a snap of my finger.”

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