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"Let me guess – he's never forgiven you for stealing his girl?" Jasmine asks, arching an eyebrow.
"Something like that," I admit. "But despite our rivalry, there's always been a level of respect between us. And while we might sabotage each other's businesses from time to time, neither of us would resort to something as drastic as the shooting at my father's compound. We have our own code of honor."
"Alright," Jasmine concedes, looking thoughtful. "So if it wasn't Frank, who do you think it could be?"
"Someone trying to play us against each other, most likely," I reply grimly. "The question is, who stands to gain from our mutual destruction?"
“I don’t know,” sighs Jasmine, looking out of the window once again.
At last, my sleek black car glides down the winding road to the Marchetti compound. I can feel Jasmine's unease radiating off her, even though she tries to hide it behind a forced smile. Her fingers tap nervously on her thigh, and I reach out to still them with my hand.
"Are you alright?" I ask, quietly.
"Are you sure about this, Dario?" she asks hesitantly, her voice barely a whisper above the hum of the engine. "I mean, is it really a good idea for me to come along?"
Her words hang in the air between us, and I can't help but feel a pang of guilt. I know that bringing her into my world comes with risks, but I also cannot imagine leaving her behind. My grip on the wheel tightens as I take a deep breath, trying to think of the right words to say.
"Jasmine," I begin, my voice steady and reassuring. "I understand your concerns, and I appreciate them. But I promise, I thought this through."
"But your father called you in for an urgent meeting," she mutters. "It's a private family business. Won't he be mad, or perhaps even critical or distrusting, of you bringing me here? He doesn't even know me and with everything going on, he must be paranoid about outsiders."
"Jasmine, you're not just coming along for this one mission." I pause, swallowing the lump in my throat as I try to express the depth of my feelings. "I want you here – with me. Not just now, but always. There's no better time than now for my father to get to know you."
Her eyes widen at my words, and I can practically see her heartbeat beneath her skin. A delicate blush creeps up her cheeks, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. She opens her mouth to speak, but no sound comes out.
"Are… are you saying what I think you're saying?" Jasmine finally manages, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and hope.
"Si, cara mia," I confirm softly, keeping one hand on the wheel while the other squeezes hers reassuringly. "I'm saying that I can't imagine my life without you anymore. So my father better get used to it too."
The car speeds down the road, taking us closer and closer to the compound, but all I can focus on is Jasmine's reaction. Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, and she bites her lower lip, as if afraid to believe what she's hearing.
"Please don't make promises you can't keep, Dario," she whispers, her voice wavering.
“Have I ever broken a promise?” I ask.
She doesn’t reply, but pulls her arms into herself and almost shrivels into a ball. I frown and want to comfort her, but before I can, we reach my father’s doorstep and the guards open our doors for us.
Time to face the music. Jasmine and I have our entire lives to talk about things, we just need to get through the next hour.
Chapter 33
Betrayal’s Sting
Jasmine
I stand in the heart of the Marchetti estate, feeling the weight of its opulence. Despite the breathtaking beauty of my surroundings, an undeniable tension hangs thick in the air. The atmosphere charged with anticipation.
My hand instinctively seeks out Dario's, intertwining our fingers as we face his father at the far end of the room. I can feel the tremor in his grip, the tightness in his jaw as he struggles to keep his emotions under control.
It's no secret that trust does not come easily to him, – a fact that I've come to understand all too well in our time together. And right now, he is forcing himself to act like he trusts his father.
"Padre," Dario begins, his voice steady despite the turmoil I know he must be feeling. "You summoned us here without explanation. What is the meaning of this?"
"Us?" his father beseeches, cold eyes trailing me from head to toe. "I believe I asked for just you and yet you bring a stranger into our midst?"
"She is no stranger," Dario snaps back, leaving no space for argument. I notice some of Don Marchetti's mafioso exchange wary glances. I know what they're thinking. Is anyone allowed to us that tone on the Don like his son just did?
"Oh?" the Don grimaces. "Whoever she is. Why is she here?"
