Scorned Vows: An Arranged Marriage Romance (Scorned Fate)

“Doriana is dead.”

I stared at the private message from The Friar who now had a new code name Dead Poet. I wasn’t sure if I was communicating with the same hacker, just as he wasn’t sure I was the same Chimera from two years ago. I’d taken all precautions when I’d logged back into the Dark Web, this time with a foolproof infrastructure that Luca’s formidable IT department had vetted.

Dead_Poet: The compromise came from her end. She’d never recovered from the Santino leak.

Mrs_B’s revenge: Yet she continued to hand us jobs.

Dead_Poet: I suspect one of her sources had been playing her. Using her. I thought at first it was you.

Mrs_B’s revenge: You still don’t trust me, do you?

Dead_Poet: No.

Mrs_B’s revenge: Fair enough. So it’s on me to decide where to distribute the money.

Dead_Poet: Yeah. I already unloaded mine.

I didn’t answer him. And our cursors sat blinking for a while. I didn’t know if I was going to join another vigilante network on the Dark Web. Organized crime was getting way too savvy with their own army of hackers. I wasn’t invincible as I had thought before. Oh, the hubris of youth.

Mrs_B’s revenge: I guess this is it.

Dead_Poet: Yeah. Good luck.

I backed out of the chatroom before he did and unplugged the extra appliance to quarantine any attempts to introduce malware. We hadn’t exposed our true enemy, but Luca and I had our suspicions. For Luca, it had been since I disappeared, while I’d only drawn mine from the last week since I regained my memory.

Carmine.

It broke my heart. He’d been my confidant since I’d been a teenager.

Luca confessed he used Carmine to find out how to manipulate me, and I admitted how Carmine had played mind games with me. It was all about control. Everyone underestimated him, thinking he was weak when he was a master chess player.

He had also gone missing.

Which was why Papà and Mamma couldn’t come over. It was another blow to the leadership of the Galluzo mafia and it was about to fall apart, which could mean a bloody war.

This was what Luca was trying to avoid on top of talking to Orlov.

My husband was in meetings, and my son was sleeping peacefully beside me. We returned to Chicago this morning. It was the first time I’d been to Luca’s penthouse. It took up an entire floor of the M condominium in Lincoln Park. It was one of the many properties of the Chicago crime family and the security was top-notch. Ange and Dario had apartments below us.

Gingerly, I left the bed because it took Elias a while to fall asleep since he kept looking for Gio. Sera and Matteo and the rest of the De Luccis would be in Chicago for the match if Luca accepted Orlov’s challenge.

I stared at the Chicago skyline and wondered if Luca was right all along that Tralestelle was where it was better to raise a family. That would depend on how solid his relationship was going to be with Ange. Now, more than ever, Luca needed a strong underboss.

I checked the time on the clock by the nightstand. It was half past midnight. Luca had been gone for three hours and I could only pray that cooler heads would prevail.

Luca

“You’re a grandstander as much as I am, Moretti.” Orlov smirked at me from his seat in the conference room. “Gladiators originated in Rome.”

“A slight correction,” Dario said. “It originated from the Etruscans, which make them still Italian. They held fights at funerals of noblemen.”

“Whose funeral are we talking about?” I asked dryly.

“Your father-in-law’s, perhaps?” Orlov taunted me before turning to Umberto “Berto” Pirelli, who Vincenzo tapped to take over after Carmine flew the coop. The Galluzo mafia experienced a series of bad luck that unfortunately started when Sera turned down the arranged marriage with Santino. It put me in a difficult position, but I wouldn’t have met Natalya. I wouldn’t have Elias. Fate worked in mysterious ways, but I hated to leave things to fate when the future of my family was at stake. I wanted to ensure their safety.

“Vincenzo and I have an understanding. We will put our misunderstanding behind us. He was ill-advised by his inner circle and Carmine.” Berto looked at me. He was too scholarly looking to be the boss of his clan, but I underestimated my wife, and the deadliest enforcers I knew were low-key. “And I hope you will back my bid for underboss, Moretti.”

“We will discuss after this.” I looked at Dario, who nodded tightly. My consigliere had more personal stakes in this.

In the room with us was Orlov, two of his brigadiers—the equivalent of our capos, and his adviser. Berto made the trip with two of his soldiers who were not allowed in the room. As my guest, I extended him the protection of Chicago. Dario was on my right and Ange was on my left.

This was an unprecedented sit-down with complicated issues because it involved the daughter of the Galluzo who was my wife. The power shift of the Galluzo affected their relationship with both Orlov and my organization.

“Natalya is not returning your money,” I told Orlov in measured tones that left no doubt there was no negotiation. “We will be turning it over to organizations that help human trafficking victims.”

Orlov gave a bitter laugh. “You’re such a Boy Scout. You get married and surrender your balls to your wife?”

I shrugged. “She takes good care of them. You should take a wife sometime and maybe you wouldn’t need to spend two hours a day in the gym.”

Orlov’s eyes narrowed into malicious slits. “You’re having me watched.”

“As if you’re not doing the same.”

“Is that why you hide in your mansion? You’re afraid I will spy on you?”

“Not at all. I’m tired of the city.”

“Or you’re enjoying fatherhood too much,” one of Orlov’s brigadiers said.

My hand automatically sought the place on my body where a gun would have been. Fortunately for the fucker, we agreed to check our weapons at the door because tempers were bound to fray and killing each other was not in everyone’s best interest.

“Refrain from any reference to my son,” I spoke evenly. “You might not make it home tonight.”

“He threatens me, Orlov,” the man sputtered.

“Then stop acting like an idiot,” Orlov said sharply. “That is why I offer the Game of Bosses. Natalya Conte Moretti threatened my organization first.”

“We do this, my wife is a clean slate to you. You will also tell us who gave her up.”

“I’m rethinking this,” the Russian muttered. “What do I really get out of this deal? I lose my leverage over you.”

“I don’t like people having leverage over me. My wife and son’s safety are my priority. If I do not extract this promise from you to leave her alone, we go to war.” I looked at Berto. “You will back me on this if you want my influence for underboss. Your organization is at a critical point. If it falls, then ruthless clans will take over. You need to restore the balance and I could help you.” I turned my attention back to Orlov. “I’ll meet you in a rematch.”

Orlov stroked his blond goatee and didn’t respond immediately, but I was used to his methods. He was trying to keep me on edge, but what he didn’t know was I had already made up my mind. Protect Natalya at all costs. The Russian knew I had the support of New York. Koshkin was neutral because the Game of Bosses was his baby, and Moscow made the most money.

Finally, he said, “You know, with your wife’s skills we can make a lot of money…cryptocurrency—”

“Find your own hacker—”

“And marry her?” Orlov raised a brow.

“Do we have a deal, Orlov?” I enunciated each word.

“Fine.”

I stood up immediately to signal the end of the meeting. There was one other issue I needed to clear up within my organization without the Russians in the room.

Orlov and his brigadiers walked over to me, and we shook hands.

When the Russians left, Ange closed the door. My brother wasn’t happy. Despite the grudge he held when he expected to be named boss, politics still wasn’t his domain and he preferred the streets.

The immediate problem was between Dario and Berto.

Right now, they were eyeing each other like opponents in a coliseum.

The reason I manipulated Vincenzo to reject Berto’s bid for underboss in favor of Carmine was because his father was responsible for the death of Dario’s own. That was twenty years ago when there was bad blood between Chicago and the Galluzo.

I didn’t have a chance to discuss this with Dario before Berto showed up.

Just as well. I hated repeating myself.

“Gentlemen.” I gestured for them to sit. Ange kept his position at the door to keep an eye on the two. Sometimes I felt guilty for doubting my brother’s loyalty. His loyalty would always be for the good of the Chicago crime family. Now that I had Natalya back in my arms, I could see past my resentment. Ange and I balanced each other out.

Dario’s jaw was clenched. He was feeling murderous to be in the same room as his sworn enemy.

“My apologies, Dario, for not discussing with you sooner. There was not enough time,” I said.

“My apologies, too,” Berto said. “Vincenzo also extends his. We realize my appearance here was sudden.”

“You shouldn’t have kept Carmine’s disappearance a secret for three days,” Dario gritted. “My sources say he’d been acting panicked since the news of Natalya’s return reached them.”

“That won’t happen again.”

“Before you promise that.” I looked at my consigliere. “Do we have a problem with this new leadership, Dario?”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” Dario said sarcastically. “We should have followed our instincts before and let the Galluzo self-destruct in their problems.” He let out a sigh. “But I’ve grown fond of Natalya and do not wish to see her legacy destroyed.” He looked at me. “You have my support.” And then at Berto. “Let’s not let the sins of the father be visited upon the sons.” He stood and extended his arm.

Berto also stood, and both men shook hands.

Ange and I looked at each other, our faces barely changing expressions, but the atmosphere of relief cleared the air in the room.

Now to get ready for the games.

Fuck me.