Page 18 of The Enforcer's Possession
I reached the top of the stairs and headed toward my wing of the house, each step taking me farther from Papa’s study and the confrontation I’d somehow survived.
Only time would tell if surviving it had been the right choice.
Chapter Five
Marco
The call came while I was reviewing contracts for the northern shipment routes.Giuseppe’s number appeared on my phone screen, and I answered immediately, already calculating how I’d phrase my gratitude for officially finalizing my engagement to his daughter.Instead, I heard words that made my pen stop mid-signature.
“The arrangement with Caterina is being reconsidered.”
I sat very still, the pen hovering above paper, my other hand gripping the phone perhaps a touch too tightly.“Reconsidered.”
“She’s brought an alternative proposal.With the De Luca family.”Giuseppe’s voice was clipped, professional, but I heard the undercurrent of rage beneath it.“I’m meeting with Dante De Luca to discuss terms.”
The words didn’t compute for several seconds.I stared at the contract in front of me, at my half-finished signature, while my brain attempted to process what I’d just heard.
“The De Lucas,” I repeated slowly.“Caterina went to the De Lucas.”
“She overstepped her bounds.This doesn’t necessarily mean --”
“When’s the meeting?”
“Within forty-eight hours.Marco, this isn’t finalized.The girl acted without permission, but I’m handling --”
I ended the call.
The phone fell from my hand onto the mahogany desk with a clatter that seemed very far away.I could hear my own breathing, sharp and too fast in the quiet of my penthouse.Could hear the blood rushing in my ears like ocean waves.
Caterina Lombardi had rejected me.Had gone behind her father’s back to arrange an alternative marriage.
The little bitch had chosen Dante fucking De Luca over me.
I stood.The movement was too fast, uncontrolled.My chair scraped back and toppled, hitting the floor with a satisfying crash.Not enough.Not nearly enough to release the pressure building in my chest, in my head, in my hands that suddenly wanted to break something.Someone.
The crystal tumbler sat on the bar cart across the room.Baccarat, purchased on a trip to Paris, worth a hefty sum.I’d been drinking eighteen-year-old scotch from it just an hour ago, celebrating the upcoming wedding that would finally give me access to the Lombardi name and network.
I grabbed it and threw it with all the strength I could muster.
It exploded against the wall in a shower of crystal and amber liquid, shards scattering across the imported Persian rug like diamonds.The sound was beautiful.Destructive.Nowhere near enough.
My hand trembled as I lowered it.Not from fear.From rage so pure it made my entire body shake.
Three years.I’d spent three years cultivating Giuseppe’s favor, proving my worth, positioning myself as the ideal match for his daughter.Three years of careful strategy and calculated moves, of swallowing my pride when the old man treated me like a subordinate rather than an equal.
And she’d thrown it away in one impulsive decision.
No.Not impulsive.The little bitch had planned this.Had gone to Dante deliberately, knowing exactly what she was doing.This wasn’t rebellion.This was calculation.She’d found someone she thought would be easier to manage, someone whose reputation for violence she somehow found less threatening than mine.
The thought made me want to laugh.Or scream.Maybe both.
Caterina thought Dante De Luca was the better option.Thought marrying the De Luca enforcer would save her from whatever fate she imagined awaited her as my wife.
She had no idea what she’d just done.No idea who she was dealing with.Dante’s reputation for brutality made my worst actions look like childish pranks.But Caterina saw what she wanted to see.A powerful name, strong connections, an alliance that would satisfy her father while giving her the illusion of control.
I started pacing.The motion helped slightly, gave me something to do with the energy coursing through my veins.Five steps to the window.Turn.Five steps to the bar.Turn.Repeat.
My reflection caught in the window glass.Face flushed, jaw tight, a vein visibly pulsing at my temple.I looked unhinged.Feltunhinged.The careful composure I maintained in public had cracked entirely, leaving only the rage underneath.
