Page 51 of Twisted Devotion

I glance at him. “I thought of that too.”

“We don’t go in too hard—nothing that looks like a full-blown retaliation,” Matteo continues. “Just enough to remind them who the fuck they’re dealing with.”

I nod, weighing the idea. “A direct hit won’t be enough. They’ll expect that. We need to force their hand. Draw them out.”

Aria leans forward, listening intently. Marco is uncharacteristically silent for once.

“We set the bait,” I say, thinking aloud. “Make them take a risk. Something that not just any mindless goon can handle. Something that forces a higher-up to intervene. Then we strike.”

Matteo smirks, already on the same page. “And get him in custody.”

“Exactly.”

Nowthatis a plan.

“And how do you plan to do that?” Marco asks, probably just trying to stay relevant in the conversation.

I consider reminding him that he’s not here to interrogate but to contribute. Before I can, Aria shifts in her seat.

She clears her throat, her expression thoughtful. “What if you staged a false shipment?”

Silence.

All eyes turn to her.

Marco frowns, caught between surprise and confusion. His gaze flicks from me to Matteo as if expecting us to share in his disbelief. When he finds no support, his expression darkens. His jaw tightens, his lips pressing into the thin line.

Then he turns to Aria. “Aria, dear,” he says with an exasperated sigh. “Don’t talk when men are talking. I’ve told you this many times.”

What. The. Fuck.

Don’t talk when the men are talking? To an international diplomacy graduate who was ten times, no, a hundred times smarter than him?

I must have misheard.

“I was just trying to-”

“I don’t think anyone in this room needs to hear what you were trying to do, Aria. I’m not sure why you’re even here, but-”

“Shut up,” I say, my voice firm as I clench my fists, trying to hold back the frustration bubbling inside. The tension in the room thickens, and I feel like I’m about to explode. He’s been irritating enough with his smug attitude and useless contributions, but this? I won’t tolerate it. I want to fly across the table and punch him in the mouth over and over again. If I didn’t stop him before he finished his sentence, I’m fairly certain I would have killed him. The room goes silent for a few seconds, and I use the time to pull myself together.

I remind myself that I’m a rational man, not ruled by his emotions. I repeat it a few times in my head, and when I’m sure I’m okay, I speak.

“Let her speak,” I say, my tone firm. “And don’t you ever speak to my wife like that again. Do you understand?”

Marco stares at me for a beat, clearly weighing whether or not to push back. After a moment, he leans back in his chair, as if reluctantly acknowledging the point, and gestures for her to continue. ‘Sure,” he mumbles, pride clearly hurt.

Aria looks at me, her eyes betraying a flicker of surprise and something that almost feels like gratitude. She straightens up, gathering her thoughts.

“You’ve mentioned that they’ve been targeting supply lines,” she begins, her voice calm and controlled. “Both yours and Nicolas’. We need to give them a supply to target.”

Matteo and I share a look, silently giving her the go-ahead. She’s onto something, and I like where this is going.

“What if we set up a fake supply? Something large enough to grab their attention. Make it seem like an easy, unprotected shipment.”

“Low security could raise red flags,” Matteo interjects, his brow furrowed. “We’ve never done anything like that.”

Aria pauses, considering, and I start thinking along the same lines as her.

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