"I want the war between us to end before it costs us both more blood, Dante. I have other fronts to worry about. You are an unnecessary expenditure."
"Peace doesn't come cheap," I say. The implication is clear: I want payment for the blood spilled, the time wasted, and the risk to my family.
"Then name your price."
I hum, low and thoughtful, eyes fixed on the panoramic view of the skyline through the window. The city sprawls beneath me, vulnerable and vast. I think of Isabella, bruised but sleeping peacefully in my bed. I think of Sofia, whose eyes are still watching the shadows. I needed an insurance policy that couldn't be bought or killed.
"There's only one thing that buries bad blood for good," I state, my voice dropping in temperature. "Something that makes our interests irrevocably linked."
He waits. The pause is heavy, Volkov calculating the financial or territorial demand.
"A marriage."
There's a pause. Not of anger, but of surprise. Then a quiet chuckle, deep in his chest. "You surprise me, Moretti. I didn't think you believed in alliances sealed with flesh anymore. That's the old, romantic way."
"I believe in leverage," I reply. "A shared liability. If one of your children is in my house, I know your hand. If one of my people is in yours, you know mine. It's the only language that binds two organizations this size. No money, no land. Just a name."
He laughs again, this time lighter, almost pleased. He appreciated the cold, clean logic of the move. "Send me the name of your man. I'll send my daughter's."
"Later today."
"Good."
The line clicks dead.
I sit there for a long moment, staring at the phone, the wordmarriageechoing in my head. A pact. A forced, personal union that would tether our two worlds together. It makes my stomach twist with distaste for the inherent brutality of the transaction. Still, it's the only way to keep Sofia and Bella safe without another prolonged, devastating war that could flare up at any moment. Sacrifice for security.
I hit the contact on my phone, pressing the button hard with my thumb. "Alessandro. My office. Now."
He comes in a minute later, moving with his usual lean efficiency. His sleeves are rolled to his elbows, revealing the corded muscle of his forearms, and his eyes are still sharp despite the exhaustion that's been riding us both for days. He is the rock, the constant in the escalating chaos.
"You wanted me?"
"Close the door, Sandro."
He does, the heavy wood latching shut with a solidthud.
"The Russians called," I say, watching his face closely. "Volkov wants to talk peace. He claims Danny acted alone, and he wants to end the war immediately."
Alessandro snorts, moving to the small bar to pour himself a glass of water. "You believe that lie?"
"I don't believe in coincidence. But I believe in opportunity when it's handed to me. We're going to end this the old way—by marriage. One of ours for one of theirs."
He's quiet for a long time, sipping the water, processing the cold finality of the decision. He knew the cost of war; he also knew the cost of peace. "You've already got someone in mind."
"I've got a few," I admit. "Men, I trust. Men who are strong enough to carry the weight of this alliance and who won't snap under the pressure. But I won't force it. Whoever it is will have to know exactly what they're walking into."
He's still silent, and when I finally look up, he's watching me with something unreadable in his expression—not judgment, but a deep, profound understanding of the necessary cruelty involved.
Then, he sets the glass down, his eyes fixed on mine. "I'll do it."
It takes a second for the words to cut through the planning storm in my head. "What?"
"I'll marry her. The Russian girl."
"Alessandro, you don't have to—" I started the protest automatically. He was my brother in everything but blood. I wouldn't condemn him to this.
"It makes the most sense," he states, cutting me off, stepping closer, and leaning his knuckles on the edge of the desk. "They know I'm your underboss. I'm your heir apparent. IfImarry her, it sends a clear, powerful message—we're serious about peace, but the Morettis still hold the central power. I am your most trusted lieutenant. And Volkov will know I will never betray you for a woman. My loyalty is absolute."
