Page 59 of Claimed Through Deception

"You are insane," he whispers.

"I am the Don," I correct him. I look at my brother. "Alessio. Go to the Falco estate. Smooth out Caterina's bruised ego. Offer them the northern shipping ports as a severance. But make sure that they understand that the marriage is dead."

Alessio nods, a rare flicker of respect in his eyes. He takes Roberto by the arm, ushering the old man out of the room.

I am left with Enzo, Dante, and I just stripped my father of his throne. The syndicate will fracture before it realigns under my absolute control.

"The northern harbor is exposed," Dante points out, shifting his weight. His eyes flick to the door where my father just exited. "If the Falcos pull their soldiers, the Irish will flood the docks by midnight."

"We need a new border strategy," Silvio pushes, stepping closer to the desk. "We have to move the perimeter guards from the south to cover the gap."

My jaw locks. A vein throbs at my temple. I am not in the mood for logistics. The Irish are a nuisance, and my men are standing in my office demanding answers I am too wired to give.

"Don Niccolò," Dante presses, his voice rising a fraction. "If we do not act immediately—"

The sound of his voice grates against my skull like a serrated blade. My hand drops to the desk and my fingers close around an empty crystal tumbler. The cut glass bites into my palm, but it isn't enough to ground the violent hum in my veins.

I don't give him a verbal answer. I whip my arm back and hurl the glass straight past Dante's ear.

It connects with the mahogany paneling. A sharp, explosive crack rings out, showering the Persian rug with a hundred razor-sharp fragments.

"Secure the perimeter!" I roar, pointing a finger at Dante. "Put snipers on the roof. If anyone approaches the gates, you put a bullet in their skull. Do not question me again."

During my rampage, the door clicks open.

Livia walks in. She carries a silver tray with coffee. She stops, taking in the shattered glass, the furious Capos, the rage in my body.

She doesn't flinch. She sets the tray on a side table.

She looks at Dante. "Leave the room."

Dante hesitates. He looks at me.

I give him a single nod. He and Silvio quickly exit, pulling the doors shut. Enzo follows them without a word.

We are alone. I grip the edge of the desk, my knuckles white.

Livia walks across the rug. She steps into my space, placing her hands on my chest. Her touch is a cool balm on a blistering burn.

"You are pissed," she murmurs.

"I just overthrew my father," I say. "He threatened you. He said he would have you removed."

Her breath catches. She searches my eyes. "And you took his crown."

"I chose you."

She slides her hands up to my shoulders, her fingers tracing the collar of my shirt. "You took over the syndicate for me."

"I would burn the world for you."

She smiles. It is a seductive, confident curve of her lips. She steps closer, pressing her hips against mine. "Then show me, Don Niccolò."

She tugs my tie, pulling my mouth down to hers.

The kiss is an explosive clash of teeth and tongues. I grab her waist, lifting her onto the edge of the mahogany desk. She wraps her legs around my hips, pulling me flush against her.

She is wearing a simple skirt today. I push the fabric up, my hands finding bare skin. She gasps, her head falling back.