Luca's POV
"Vincenzo." His voice changed. Softer. Almost gentle. "Let go of this grudge. It's rotting you from inside. Tell me what I can do. What can I make right? Like when you were small?"
That got my attention.
I looked at him. Really looked. At the lines on his face. At the eyes that made me light up when he walked into a room. At the man who betrayed my mother before her body was even cold.
Enzo Marchetti was not a tall man. That was the first thing people usually noticed—the discrepancy between his reputation and his stature. He stood maybe five-foot-nine in expensive shoes, his frame lean rather than broad, the kind of build that made you underestimate him until it was too late.
But his eyes. God, his eyes.
They were the same gold-flecked green as my own—the only inheritance from him I couldn't burn away.
They sat deep in a face carved by decades of power and cruelty, surrounded by fine lines that spoke of late nights and hard decisions.
When he looked at you, those eyes didn't just see you. They dissected you. Measured you. Found the place where your weaknesses lived.
His hair had gone silver years ago, but it was still thick, swept back from his forehead like a crown.
Everything about him screamed money and control, from the signet ring on his right hand—the Marchetti crest, a wolf devouring its own tail—to the way he stood with his weight perfectly balanced, ready for anything.
It must eat at him that I was one thing he couldn't control.
At sixty-seven, he moved like a man twenty years younger. No shuffle, no hesitation.
When he walked into a room, he owned it instantly—not through violence, but through sheer force of presence. People parted for him without realizing they were doing it.
Well, not me. Not anymore.
He was handsome still, in the way old predators are handsome. Distinguished. Dangerous. The kind of face that made you want to trust him, even knowing what lived behind it.
He was my father.
I hated him.
"One thing."
His eyes lit up. "Say it. It's done."
"If you can get Mamma to tell me it's okay to forgive you..." I paused. Let it land. "I'll forgive you."
The light died.
"Your mother is dead, Vincenzo." His voice was hard now. "What you ask is impossible."
"Exactly, Babbo." I stood. Grabbed the door handle. "I'll have Sofia send you the bill for the furniture. Don't come here again."
My hand was on the door when he spoke.
"We found her."
I stopped.
"Emilia Conti. The bride you refuse to marry." Enzo's voice was casual. "We know where she is."
I didn't turn around. "She's gone."
"She's still in Little Italy." A pause. "Word is she's looking for you."
"She wants nothing to do with the Marchetti name." I forced calm into my voice. "I'll find someone else to marry. She's not worth this."
Behind me, Enzo stood. Picked up the gun.
"You're right." He agreed. "She's not."
I kept my face blank. Don't react. Don't let him see.
"I can call off the engagement," Enzo continued. "She's soiled anyway. You deserve better."
"Yes, sir." The words tasted like poison. "I deserve better."
I reached for the door again.
"Good." Enzo's voice followed me. "I'll tell your uncle Sal he can have the whore. Compensation for getting fucked by a man. It's a touchy subject with him. This might—"
"No."
I didn't mean to yell it. It tore out of me.
When I turned, Enzo was smiling. The smile of a man who'd just won.
He walked toward me. Slow. Savoring each step. Reached up and touched my face.
"The wedding is Saturday. In Little Italy. In your mother's favorite garden." His thumb traced my cheek. "Wear a suit. Your bride will be waiting."
I felt my jaw tighten. My fists clench.
Enzo's smile widened. "Or don't. Just don't forget to send your uncle Sal a wedding gift."
He kissed my forehead again—soft, almost loving—and slipped out the door.
The second it closed, I grabbed the decorative vase by the door and hurled it across the room. It exploded against the far wall. Ceramic rained down.
I pulled out my phone. Dialed.
Teddy answered on the first ring. "Boss?"
"Find Emilia Conti." My voice shook. "Now."
"I know where she is" Teddy said.
I blinked bewildered. "You do?" On a second thought, I added. "Of course, you do"
He was Teddy. He had the annoying habit of knowing things without trying.
"Where?"
"They are in a tiny cabin off the coast of Little Italy. They are starving and penniless."
I paused. Anger exploding inside me.
"Starving?! She's starving!" I asked him.
"Yes. Don't forget penniless too. Oh" He sounded like he was searching something from a note. "They thinks she's pregnant. General consensus is getting an abortion but we are not certain yet. Girl won't pee on a stick"
"Pregnant? Teddy! Why the fuck didn't you say something?"
"Dunno. Nobody asked me" The giant grumbled over the phone.
"Nobody asked you. Nobody asked you?!" I tried to keep my voice contained.
"Nobody asked me" He said again.
"Run! Because I'm going to kill you" I said and hung up angrily.
I stood there in the ruined conference room, surrounded by shattered glass and broken chairs, and thought about a girl with sad eyes and a rose in her pocket. Possibly starving while carrying my child.
Teddy is dead.
Saturday.
Four days.
I had four days to find her, convince her to marry me despite my family's history with hers before my father turned her over to Salvatore.
I pressed my hand to my chest. My heart was still racing.
I'm coming, darlin. I'm coming.