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So much for letting my ego run the show.
Not only was I at odds with my mother, but now Fee hated me, and my best friend was pissed.
I swallowed the bitter taste of regret and shoved all thoughts of my mother, Matteo, or Fiona from my mind. There would be time to make amends later. For now, I had to focus on the Morettis and how best to retaliate against them. Or get my ass out of the way so Gabe could re-establish the power structures.
“We need to send a message,” Cristo said, eyes glinting with barely restrained violence. “Go on the offense. Show them we’re not the suckers they think we are.”
“We could do that.” Gabe’s tone turned pensive. “Any further aggression will escalate the conflict.”
Cristo bristled, shoulders tensing, but remained silent. Gabe was right, as much as I hated to admit it. Gabe’s position as the head of the family was still new. The family was still in shambles over my father’s death and the discovery of Uncle Fausto murdering his own brother.
The Morettis knew we were weak—that’s why they weren’t afraid to attack us on our own territory.
Gabe sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been trying to reach out to our contacts in the Moretti family, but no one is willing to talk. Killing Bruno will have them out for blood.”
“We were defending ourselves,” Cristo said.
Gabe raised a brow. “You know as well as I do that right now, they probably won’t operate on reason or logic.” Gabe slumped into a chair, looking suddenly older and tired.
The stress of the situation was taking its toll—not the honeymoon bliss he’d hoped for.
“All we’ve done is give them an excuse to start a war. If we want to survive this, we need to make a truce before things escalate further.” Gabe’s tone of voice brooked no argument.
And I hated it.
The thought of groveling to the Morettis left a bitter taste in my mouth, but Gabe was right. My sheer existence had already cost us too much. If swallowing my pride was the only way to secure peace for my family, then so be it. I would do whatever it took to protect my brothers.
Even if it meant sacrificing my dignity.
“Try to set up a meeting,” I said. “It’s time to end this ridiculousness once and for all.”
Gabe’s shoulders relaxed, but doubt flickered in his gaze. “They might just flat-out assassinate you.”
I shrugged, then managed a grim smile. “They can always try.”
But Gabe’s face didn’t show any relief, and neither did Cristo’s at my sad—and failing—attempt to reassure them.
But no matter what happened, it was time to stop avoiding the inevitable.
Family and honor, above all else, was the Morettis credo, as it was ours.
And even if I had no place in the family, I still had my honor.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Istormed out of the room, fists clenched, with rage coursing through my veins.
The bastard.
After everything, this is how he treated me? With a sneer and a snarl, casting me out like yesterday’s trash? He was the one who pursued me; he was the one coming onto me.
Not the other way around.
And also, if he wanted a brainless bimbo, who just said yes and fluttered her eyelashes, he should’ve gone with that sub-server of his.
Asshole.
My chest tightened, and my eyes stung with threatening tears. What was going on that the world was conspiring against me?
