Page 42 of Prince of Vice

Charlie leads me down the shadowy hallway, his polished shoes clicking against the marble floor. The air is heavy with tension that clings to my skin, and the darkness seems to swallow us as we move further away from Isabella's comforting presence.

"Primo," Charlie begins, his voice low and urgent, "there are problems on the ground with gun shipments."

I furrow my brow, my stomach tightening with unease. "What do you mean?"

He leans closer, the scent of his cologne mingling with the dampness of the hall. "The Irish usually move the gun shipments for a certain price, right? They've always been reliable."

I nod impatiently, eager for him to get to the point. "Yeah, I know all that. What's the problem?"

"Word is, they want more money now, or they're not moving the shipment." He straightens up, his eyes searching mine for understanding. "And we both know we can't afford any delays."

My heart clenches at the thought of yet another obstacle in our path, but I force myself to remain calm. "Constantino has always handled the Irish, and things have always been smooth. Now suddenly there are problems?" The mention of Constantino's name leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, but I swallow it down, focusing on the matter at hand.

Charlie nods solemnly. "Something needs to be done about it, Primo. We can't let this jeopardize our operation."

"Of course," I agree, my mind racing with potential solutions. In the midst of my legal troubles and growing infatuation with Isabella, I'd nearly forgotten how high the stakes truly were.

"Listen, I'll handle it," Charlie offers, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "You focus on your trial. I’m still looking for someone who can take over when the time comes.”

I give him a confused look. After the song and dance he just went through in my office, I thought he understood that I didn’t intend to switch lawyers. “Charlie,” I say to him. “I’ve decided to continue through to the trial with Isabella. I thought that was clear.”

Charlie looks shocked at my words. “Are you sure that’s the right decision?”

“Let me ask you this, Charlie,” I say to him, “even if I did doubt her abilities—which I do not—were you able to find anyone anyways?”

“Well, no,” Charlie admits.

“Then, the decision is made,” I say. “And, I’m happy with it.”

“She certainly seems like she believes in you, Primo,” Charlie says.

“Yes,” I reply immediately.

“Good,” he says. “So do I.”

"Thank you, Charlie," I reply, my voice thick with gratitude. "I appreciate your help, but I can't rely on you to do everything."

"Not everything, but some things are okay," he says.

He gives me a curt nod before departing, leaving me alone in the darkened hallway. As I make my way back to the office, my thoughts are a swirling maelstrom of concern for the family business and the alluring pull of Isabella's fiery spirit. It is a dangerous balancing act - and I'm tipping dangerously over the edge.

Chapter Twenty

Primo

I return to my desk with a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. My eyes drift to Isabella, and I see the concern etched on her beautiful features. A swell of gratitude fills me that she is here, standing by me despite the darkness that surrounds us both.

"Primo," she says softly, and as if drawn to me by an invisible force, she moves closer. Her eyes search mine, and I can almost feel her trying to read my thoughts. Seemingly sensing that I'm holding something back, she sits on the edge of my desk, directly in front of me. I place my hands on her waist, and she doesn't resist. The warmth of her body seeping into me is a comfort that I didn't realize I needed.

"Whatever you need to tell me, it's protected under attorney-client privilege," she tells me, her voice steady and reassuring. "You don't have to worry about me sharing anything with anyone else."

I shake my head, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "It's not that I don't trust you, Isabella. I just... I don't want you to become a target because of what I share with you."

"Primo," she says patiently, her dark eyes holding mine captive. "I'm already a target simply by being your attorney. So why not tell me what's on your mind? Let me help you any way I can."

Her fierce dedication and bravery stir something deep within me, and I find myself unable to hold back any longer.

"Our family's power is waning further, and there are problems with the Irish," I admit, feeling as though a weight has been lifted off my chest.

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