I need my own R letter word to stomp all over their shit.
Revenge.
That’ll do just fine.
But when Adriana’s face pops into view, I forget about everything and everyone else.
Together. I like that.
Four words. So simple, but they settle in my chest… like a promise of what’s to come.
Whatever comes next, we handle it together.
I can definitely work with that.
CHAPTER 20
ADRIANA
Riccardo thinkshe's so smart.
That's his problem. Always has been. He thinks he’s the smartest person in the room, even when the room is full of people who could end him without breaking a sweat. And because of my father, nobody tried.
But I’m not my father. And Riccardo better be prepared to deal with a new boss.
I pace the living room when Lochlan walks through the door, gym bag flung over his shoulder, slightly sweaty and looking way too good for someone who just spent two hours in a sparring war with his brothers.
“How bad is it?” he asks, dropping the bag. Reaper runs over to him, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. Lochlan bends down to give him some belly scratches while he watches me.
“Bad enough.” I stop pacing and let out a huff. “He called a meeting with Carlo Bianchi, Tommy Greco, and Enzo Caruso. Three of the most influential capos. Vincenzo found out and shut it down before they got too far, but the damage is done. He’s challenged me publicly and made moves to discredit me.”
Lochlan straightens up. “What was he telling them?”
I throw my hands into the air. “That I'm in over my head. That I ran from Moretti's. That the Russians are circling, and I don't have what it takes to protect the family.” My jaw tightens. “He's positioning himself as the alternative.”
“He's a fucking idiot,” Lochlan grunts, pushing his hair back.
“He's a dangerous idiot. That’s way worse than being a simple idiot.” I grab my phone. “I'm calling a meeting with all of them. Today.”
A flicker of uncertainty shadows Lochlan’s face. “You sure that's the right move?”
“If I wait, I let him control the narrative. I let the capos wonder why I'm not addressing it. I let doubt fester in their minds.” I twist my ring. “Ican’tlet doubt fester. That’ll be the beginning of the end.”
He nods and walks toward me. “What do you need? What can I do?” he asks.
“Same as before. Just stand behind me.” My lips quirk. “Try to look like you'd enjoy ripping Riccardo's throat out.”
Lochlan chuckles. “I won’t have to try at all.”
“I know.” I reach for his arm and give it a little squeeze. “That's why it’ll work.”
Two hours later, we're in a private room at an off-the-beaten-path kind of restaurant called Ragazzo’s. Vincenzo told me about it. Said the men frequently come here to enjoy a meal and “handle problems.” The room has the same setup as before with a long table, capos seated around it, and tension thick enough to choke on.
But this time, I'm not trying to prove myself. I'm not asking for their respect.
I'm taking it. So fuck you, Riccardo.
Riccardo sits at the far end with his arms crossed, a smugexpression making my fists twitch. I’ve never punched a man in the face before but my God, I’d love to launch a fist at his jaw and crack it in half. He thinks he's untouchable. He thinks blood protects him.
