Page 14 of Shadows of Steel
I don’t move. Instead, I take another slow step forward, my tone severe. “I’m not going anywhere. If you think otherwise, you’re welcome to try and make me.”
The air between us crackles with tension, each word a gauntlet thrown down. For a moment, the room is heavy with unspoken threats, neither of us willing to back down.
Finally, Ricci exhales sharply, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Fine.” he mutters, though his tone makes it clear he’s anything but pleased. “But don’t push me, Salvatore. This isn’t your game to play.”
“You’re not the first man to warn me about that,” I reply, a faint smirk curving my lips. “Funny thing is, none of them could stop me either.”
Ricci’s glare burns into me, but he doesn’t reply. Instead, he turns back toward the woman in the room. His eyes narrow, scrutinizing her with renewed focus, suspicion darkening his features.
“So,” he begins. “If you’re Moretti’s niece, then that means…” His gaze sharpens, the weight of realization settling behind his eyes. “Carmela—she’s your mother, isn’t she?”
Her expression shifts instantly, her guard snapping into place like steel doors slamming shut. “How do you know her?”
Ricci’s face remains impassive. “Answer the question.” He replies coolly, dismissing her demand without a second thought.
The woman doesn’t flinch. Instead, her chin lifts just slightly. “No. You tell me.” Her voice sharpens, cutting through the space between them. “What’s your connection to her?”
For the briefest moment, something flickers in Giovanni’s eyes, a shadow of memory, perhaps, a ghost from the past. Butjust as quickly as it appears, it vanishes, locked away behind an unreadable mask.
“We crossed paths.” He states. “A long time ago.”
And then, as if struck by a realization, his gaze narrows, piercing, dissecting her with ruthless intensity. “How old are you?”
Her eyes slit further, wariness settling into every taut line of her posture. “Twenty-five.” She replies cautious.
Ricci’s stare hardens, his mind clearly working behind those sharp eyes, pieces shifting into place at an unrelenting pace. “Who is your father?” His voice is adamant, slicing through the charged air. “Is it someone in the family?”
She lets out a short, bitter laugh. “Never met him. Nor do I intend to.”
Giovanni stares at her, his expression shifting from suspicion to something heavier. I don’t miss the way his hands clench slightly, the way his breathing slows. He’s piecing it together, and the realization is written all over his face.
“You don’t know his name?” he presses, his voice quieter now.
“No.” She snaps.
The tension in the room thickens, the air growing stifling. Ricci turns to me, his expression confirming what I already suspected. He looks at the officer and orders, “I want a DNA test to be done this instant.”
Her scoff cuts through the silence like the crack of a whip. “No. Even if you are my father, I have no interest in finding out. I don’t need answers. You abandoned me, so stay gone.”
A flicker of pain crosses Ricci’s eyes, brief, but undeniable. “If you are truly my daughter, then understand this, I was never told you existed.”
She doesn’t soften. Not even a flicker. “Well, if you have sex, there's always a risk. Next time, maybe wrap it up, or at least make sure you’re not leaving any surprises behind.”
A chuckle escapes me. She has a sharp tongue.
The sound draws both their attention, but I remain at ease, leaning back, my gaze settling on her with quiet amusement.
“This just keeps getting better. If this is indeed true,” I say smoothly, letting the weight of my words stretch between us, “then it appears you now have a daughter. And naturally, a marriage must follow.”
Ricci’s head snaps toward me, his gaze glacial. “I’ve always known you were soulless, Salvatore,” he says, his tone laced with quiet venom, each word precise, a blade honed to cut. “No heart. No humanity. Nothing you value beyond your own power. But for once, read the damn room.”
His eyes narrow further, the disdain rolling off him in waves. “You only see the advantages to be taken, the leverage to be gained. You’re incapable of anything else.”
A smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth, though it never quite reaches my eyes. “Spare me the sanctimony,” I say. “You didn’t build your empire out of compassion, Ricci. You built it through dominance, because men feared your name, feared what you could do. So let’s not pretend morality had any place in your rise to power. You wouldn’t be where you are without the very ruthlessness you now condemn in me.”
The tension between us builds, thick and oppressive, until the woman in the room tears through it. “I have no intention of subjecting myself to a DNA test.” She snaps, her voice sharp and resolute, fire flashing in her eyes. “And I’m definitely not marrying anyone. If you’re delusional enough to think otherwise, think again.”
I glance at her, a smirk tugging at my lips as I lean against the doorframe. “We’ll see about that.” I say smoothly, my tone ascutting as hers, but layered with amusement. “I suggest you start shopping for a wedding dress.”
