Page 17 of Made for Sinners

But instead, they’d thrown her into the deep end and expected her to swim.

And now, she hated me for it.

I finished the drink in one long swallow, the burn searing down my throat as I stood and made my way to the window. The city stretched out before me, a glittering expanse of light and shadow. Somewhere out there was the person who’d orchestrated this chaos, the one who’d used Emilia as a pawn in their game.

And I intended to find them.

My thoughts drifted to Valentina, her sharp mind and even sharper tongue. She’d been instrumental in uncovering the truth, her expertise in banking and finance cutting through the layers of deception like a scalpel. But her help hadn’t come without conditions.

She wanted something from me—something I wasn’t sure I was willing to give.

The thought made my chest tighten, and I turned away from the window, pacing the length of the room. The penthouse felt too big, too empty, the silence pressing in on me like a physical weight.

Would it feel the same with Emilia here?

I couldn’t imagine her fitting into this world, couldn’t picture her in the sleek, minimalist space I called home. She was chaos and fire, a storm that refused to be tamed. And yet, the thought of her here—of her presence filling the empty corners—wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

I shook the thought away, pouring myself another drink as I tried to focus on the task at hand. There was too much at stake to let my emotions cloud my judgment.

This was business.

Nothing more.

And yet, as I stared out at the city, the glass cool in my hand, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was standing on the edge of something I couldn’t control.

The restaurant was tucked awayin the corner of the city’s financial district, an unassuming facade hiding a world of exclusivity. It was the kind of place where deals were made over dry-aged steaks and overpriced whiskey, where the hum of conversation was a low, calculated murmur. The kind of place where power was palpable, and weakness was a scent everyone pretended not to notice but always hunted down.

I arrived first, as I almost always did. Punctuality wasn’t just a habit—it was a weapon. Being early meant I controlled the room before anyone else walked in. It gave me time to assess, to prepare for whatever bullshit my brothers were about to unload on me.

The hostess greeted me with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, her gaze lingering just a second too long. I offered a curt nod, brushing past her as she led me to our usual table in theback. It was private, secluded, the kind of spot where no one could overhear the Ricci family’s dirty laundry—or the Conti family’s, for that matter.

I slid into the leather booth, the cool surface pressing against my back as I scanned the menu I didn’t need. The waiter approached, his demeanor polished and professional, and I ordered an espresso. No food. Not yet.

Luca and Raphael arrived together, their voices carrying across the room before I even saw them. Luca was laughing, his easy charm on full display, while Matteo trailed behind him, his expression as unreadable as ever. They were opposites in every way—Luca, the silver-tongued negotiator, and Rafe, the silent enforcer. Together, they were a force to be reckoned with.

“Dante,” Luca greeted as he slid into the booth across from me, his grin wide and unapologetic. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“Long enough,” I said, my tone dry as I sipped the espresso the waiter had just placed in front of me.

Rafe took the seat beside Luca, his dark eyes flicking to me briefly before settling on the menu. He didn’t say anything—he never did unless it was necessary—but his presence was enough.

“So,” Luca began, leaning back in his seat as he signaled for the waiter. “How’s married life treating you?”

I shot him a look that could have frozen the espresso in my hand. “We’re not married yet.”

“Details,” he said with a dismissive wave. “You’ve got the contract ready, don’t you?”

“It’s being finalized,” I replied, setting the cup down with a soft clink. “Her lawyer will have it by the end of the day.”

“And?” Luca prompted, his grin turning sly. “Did you add anything… special?”

I allowed myself a faint smirk, the kind that made lesser men squirm. “A few clauses. Nothing she’ll notice. At least, not right away.”

Luca laughed, the sound rich and full of amusement. “Oh, she’ll notice. And when she does, I hope I’m there to see it.”

Rafe’s lips twitched, the closest he ever came to a smile. “You’re playing with fire, Dante.”

“I always do,” I said, my tone flat.

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