Strategy or Sacrifice
Callum was dead. And I didn’t feel a single ounce of satisfaction.
I’d put men in the ground for less than what Callum had said to my wife. I would have done much worse than a merciful bullet to the head if he’d had another minute to breathe. Some men die too easily for the damage they’ve caused. The only satisfaction I had was that I’d tortured him so brutally that suicide felt like his best option.
But there was no point dwelling on the dead. A dead enemy was straightforward. An enemy network like McKenna’s was not. Men like Callum were rarely the architects. His death meant nothing if the machine behind him was still moving.
Men’s voices droned in the background of my turbulent thoughts as I picked at the dried blood under my nails, tilting my head to one side to crack my aching bones. I hadn’t slept last night. I’d held my wife all night, watching the grief on her face even as she dreamt. I knew how to live with blood on my hands. What I didn’t know how to live with was the image of Aria shattering into pieces before my eyes when Callum admitted what he’d done. It sent me into a blind rage, and I needed him to pay for it. Alessio blamed my lack of control at that moment for us never finding out who Callum truly was, but honestly, I didn’t give a shit. He was dead. That’s all that mattered.
We’d flown into Verona early this morning after Alessio called a meeting to discuss our next move against the Irish. I was running on adrenaline, fury, and silent murderous thoughts as Alessio, Gio, Fabi, and Max all tried to think with less violence and more logic.
The long mahogany table was covered with maps of Italy and Ireland, lists of ex-Leone soldiers our men needed to track down who were spying for McKenna, trading routes that could be used to plan an attack, and several safehouses.
“Before we reach out to allies, we need to know what sacrifices we are willing to make,” Fabi said from beside Alessio, who was standing at the head of the table with his hands planted on the surface.
Alessio's piercingblue eyes darted over all the different options that had been put forward, but from the tension in his jaw, he didn’t like any of them. None of us agreed. Being a mafia king was often about choosing which disaster you could survive better. But every option had consequences.
“I say we send McKenna Callum’s head so he knows exactly who he’s starting a war with,” I said, my tone calm and cold. Externally, I appeared composed, but inside, I was calculating Sean McKenna’s demise. Because every bruise on Aria’s life now felt personal, and until he was dead, Aria would always be looking over her shoulder, just like Aisling McKenna had.
“First, we should decide what to do with Aria,” Gio said, glancing towards me. I narrowed my eyes. “If the Irish can’t take her through deception, they’ll try to take her by force. We should move her to one of our safehouses in Sicily for the time being.”
“Or out of the country,” Max suggested. “Hide her somewhere they’d never think to look.”
“My wife is going nowhere without me,” I snapped. I would destroy every route out of Italy before I let another man decide where my wife belonged. There was only one answer. With me.
“It wouldn’t be for long,” Alessio added. “Just until we have a plan on how to deal with McKenna.”
“Aria isn’t leaving my side. She’s safest with me.”
“Whatever way you look at it, Sani, she needs to stay hidden. Preferably out of Rome, where most of McKenna’s men are operating.”
There was a knock on the door, causing all our heads to turn as Elle entered first with that sassy, defiant glare, followed by Olivia, who gave us all a bright smile, then Soraya with her eyes naturally cast down, and finally Aria. Her blue eyes darted frantically around the room until they found mine, and she exhaled.
Alessio straightened up and folded his arms across his chest as he looked at his wife with confusion. “What’s this?”
“You called a strategy meeting without inviting your best strategists,” Elle retorted, placing her palms on the other end of the table and taking the same stance he’d just had. He smirked but extended his hand, suggesting they all sit down. Aria sat beside me, and I immediately placed my hand on her bouncing knee to soothe her.
“So what were you discussing?” Olivia asked.
Alessio’s eyes flicked to my wife. “Aria. And where she should go to keep her safe.”
“Well,” Elle clapped. “Good thing we got here just in time then. Considering this is about her and her future, how about we ask her where she feels safest?”
Alessio rolled his eyes but turned his attention to my wife. It was remarkablehow tightly my sister had the mafia king wrapped around her little finger. He answered to no one but her.
Aria swallowed and glanced at me. “Wherever Sani is.”
I gave a small smile and squeezed her thigh.
“Rome isn’t safe for you,” Gio argued. “But you are more than welcome to stay here in Verona. We’ve doubled guards and security, and no one will be able to get to you from behind these walls.”
“But I will be able to go back to Rome eventually?”
“Of course. Once we have a plan in action and McKenna is no longer a threat.”
She nodded. “Okay. I feel comfortable with that.”
The tension in my shoulders eased slightly. I would go back and forth from Rome until we had things under better control, but knowing she’d be here in my childhood home with my family’s protection felt like a weight had been lifted. She wouldn’t be able to leave my family’s estate, but unfortunately, there was no version of safety in our world that didn’t mean giving up some freedom.
