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“Don Pirelli,” he says, his voice clipped. “You’re lucky I’m even allowing this meeting to take place after the… incident.”
Angelo nods curtly. “We appreciate your discretion, Dimitri.”
Dimitri leads us through the club, past curious onlookers and whispered conversations. I can feel eyes on us, watching,judging. It takes all my willpower not to fidget under their scrutiny.
We reach a private room at the back of the club. Dimitri pauses at the door, his hand on the handle. “He’s already inside,” he informs us, his tone making it clear he disapproves of this entire situation.
As Dimitri opens the door, I catch sight of Gino. He’s seated at a small table, looking infuriatingly relaxed.
“About time you come back in here,” Gino taunts Dimitri. “Where’s my scotch?”
Dimitri scowls. “You can get it yourself. Like I told Don Pirelli, you’re lucky I even allowed you back inside here.”
Gino looks bored.
“That little stunt outside my establishment has cost me dearly,” Dimitri snaps, his voice rough with anger. “Do you have any idea how many high-profile clients I’ve had to turn away? The reputation I’ve built?—”
Gino cuts him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Spare me the dramatics, Dimitri. Your ‘reputation’ will survive.”
“Dramatics?” Dimitri’s voice rises an octave. “You call a car bombdramatics? This isn’t some cheap action movie, Gino. This is my livelihood!”
Gino rolls his eyes, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a thick wad of cash and tosses it carelessly at Dimitri. “There. That should cover your precious losses and then some. Now shut up about it and get me some goddamn scotch.”
Dimitri’s eyes narrow as he looks at the money, then back at Gino. “You think you can just throw money at every problem? This isn’t about the cash. It’s about respect!”
“Respect?” Gino laughs, the sound cold and humorless. “You want respect? Earn it. Until then, take the money and be fucking grateful I’m feeling generous.”
I watch this exchange, feeling a mixture of disgust and fascination. These men, with all their wealth and power, reduced to bickering like schoolchildren. It would almost be comical if the stakes weren’t so high.
Taking a deep breath, I step forward. “Gino,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel, “we need to talk.”
His eyes meet mine, and I feel a chill run down my spine at the cold hatred I see there.
“Well, well,” Gino drawls. “If it isn’t the happy couple. Come to beg for mercy?”
I clench my fists, forcing myself to remain calm. This is my one chance to reason with him, to find a peaceful solution. I can’t let his taunts get to me.
Angelo places a reassuring hand on my back as we take our seats across from Gino. Marco positions himself by the door, a silent but imposing presence.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us, Gino,” I begin, proud of how steady my voice sounds. “I hope we can come to an understanding.”
Gino scoffs. “I highly doubt it.”
I take a deep breath, gathering my courage. “I have a proposition. Let’s do a DNA test, prove once and for all that we’re not related. Then we can discuss a fair deal for the Perfezione building.”
For a moment, Gino just stares at me. Then he throws his head back and laughs, a harsh, grating sound that sends chills down my spine.
“A DNA test?” he sneers. “You think I’m stupid? I alreadyknowwe’re not related, Sofia. I’ve known for years.” He laughs again. “Did you really think my father impregnated your whore mother? Oh, that is too good.”
My heart sinks. I’d been counting on this revelation to change things. “Then why…” I start, but Gino cuts me off.
“Why do I hate you?” His eyes are cold, filled with a loathing that takes my breath away. “Because you and your family’s success are a physical representation of my father’s weakness. It makes all Timpones look weak.”
I feel like I can’t breathe. I really thought I would be able to get Gino to see reason, but the hatred in his eyes tells me I was fooling myself.
Gino stands abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “This meeting is over,” he snarls. “Fucking waste of time.”
He turns to Angelo, his voice dripping with malice. “Do something about this and ignite a war, or Sofia’s family can pay the obscene price and hopefully bankrupt themselves. Your choice.”
