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“Bianchi is furious,” Paulo explained.“He contacted me, asking to go full-on war with you.I told him I’d consider supporting him after I spoke with you.”He glanced between the others.“I doubt his claim is as outrageous as he makes it.”

Sal’s eyes narrowed.“What’s he saying?”

Luca answered, smooth as silk.“That you kidnapped his daughter and are raping her three times a day.”

For a moment, silence rang in the room.Then Tony let out a sharp bark of laughter.“Oh, the reality is so much worse!”

Paulo smirked.“Jealous, Tony?Romano looks like the type who could manage it.”

Sal’s glare promised retribution, but the corner of his mouth twitched despite himself.

Still, the accusation burned.He might have laughed at the ridiculous claim if it wasn’t Enrico Bianchi making it.That bastard wasn’t just dangerous—he was unhinged.

“As you can see, Catarina is not being held captive.Nor am I raping her,” Sal replied dryly, his control snapping back into place.Only Cata had the power to strip him of sense.Other issues—such as Bianchi—he handled with cold, calculating precision.He turned to Tony.“I suppose that, since the man is maligning my character, I should handle him without the gloves now.”

Tony’s smile was merciless.“I’ll come up with some ideas,” he said, rising smoothly to his feet.

Sal knew what that meant.Tony would head down to his security team—a den of nerd assassins armed with laptops instead of guns.One of them, during his interview, had hacked into the country’s largest bank, plucked out the biggest account balance, and dropped it into Sal’s portfolio just to prove he could.Sal had laughed, ordered the money returned, and hired the kid immediately.

Now, several genius-level techs worked for him.Why weren’t they working for the government?Because Sal paid triple, gave them better toys, and never asked them to wear a tie.

“So what else is happening in your area?”Paulo asked, leaning back with a lazy grin.

For the next hour, Sal, Paulo, and Luca talked about business, batted strategies back and forth like sharks playing with their food.They discussed borderlines, money channels, and new ventures.The three of them might deal in shadows, but the truth was clear: the most lucrative, untouchable profits came from businesses that were clean.Legitimate.And these three men were masters at business strategy.

By the time the meeting wrapped up, Sal leaned back in his chair, a dark satisfaction settling over him.His enemies thought he was distracted, weakened, maybe even sentimental because of his new bride.

Let them think it.

He had his allies.He had his territory.And now, he had Catarina.

Enrico Bianchi had no idea just how badly he’d miscalculated.

Chapter 16

Enricowalkedintothestrip club and immediately felt at home.The air was thick with the reek of stale beer, sour sweat, and cheap perfume that had been sprayed too liberally to cover up the stench.The floor was made up of thirty year old tiles that had never been replaced, sticky with substances that no one wanted to look too closely at, and cigarette smoke clung to the low ceiling in a hazy cloud.

Several of the women on the stage turned their heads away as soon as they spotted him, pretending not to notice.Their cheap glitter makeup sparkled under the flickering neon lights, but they knew better than to pretend to ignore him.

They would pay for that later, he thought with a surge of irritation.

Then his gaze found the woman he needed.

“Diane!”he barked, though he knew it wasn’t her name.He never cared enough to remember their names.Women were tools, nothing more.And this particular tool had huge tits and a great ass that had been bouncing on his lap a few days ago.

She turned, her luscious red lips pressing together in a flash of insolence before she pasted on a bright, sugary smile.Enrico’s palm twitched with the urge to slap her, but she caught herself quickly enough to soothe his temper.

“Hey there, Mr.Bianchi!”she trilled in that too-high, too-fake voice.The customers lapped it up, all of them turning to see who had claimed her attention.They weren’t here for reality; they were here for tits, ass, and the illusion that someone wanted them.

Enrico let his gaze roam over her curves with open disdain.Was she getting fat?He wondered.The lighting in here wasn’t kind—every bit of cellulite showed under the harsh red glow.Most men wanted fantasy when they came here, not some tired broad with thighs like bread dough.

Still, she would do.

“Why don’t we go back to a private room where you can give me an update on our little plan?”he demanded.

Did the bitch cringe?Maybe.It was quick, too quick for anyone else to notice.But Enrico noticed everything.

She smiled wider, showing too-white teeth, and gestured to one of the half walls where lap dances and quick, dirty transactions happened.The air back there reeked worse—sweat, semen, and disinfectant sloppily sprayed over old stains.