Seraphina's POV
I sit in the Neutral Ground Club's private parlor, my hands folded tight in my lap. The room's dark, with wood walls and a long table that feels like a battlefield. The air smells of cigar smoke and whiskey. My father, Don Vittorio Calabrese, is at one end, his face hard. Luca's mother, Sofia Vitale, sits opposite, her green eyes sharp like Luca's. Calabrese elders and Vitale captains fill the seats, all pretending to be polite. A red truce flag hangs above the fireplace, but it doesn't fool anyone. One wrong word, and this meeting could turn bloody.
Luca's next to me, his arm brushing mine. He's in a dark suit, his smile easy, but I know better. That photo from last night, me as a toddler with a stranger, sits heavy in my mind. And the envelope with my family's crest, locked in his drawer. He's hiding things, and I'm running out of time to figure out what.
Father Enzo stands at the head of the table, his priest robes swishing. "We gather under God's eyes," he says, his voice calm but heavy. "Two families, bound by marriage, seeking peace. But peace needs truth. Hidden sins and blood debts will tear us apart."
I shift in my seat. Hidden sins? Blood debts? His eyes flick to me, then away, like he's saying more than he means to. My father's jaw tightens, and Sofia's fingers tap her glass. They feel it too, something's off.
"Let's get to business," my father says, his voice cutting through. "Joint ventures. Shipping, real estate, clubs. We split profits fifty-fifty."
Sofia nods, but her smile's cold. "Fair. But we need numbers. Projections."
Dante, sitting across from me, leans forward. His grey eyes are stormy, and his tattoos peek out from his sleeves. "Numbers?" he says, his voice rough. "How about trust? Your son's got cameras on our estate. That's not a partnership."
Luca laughs, but it's sharp. "Security, Calabrese. Your side's got eyes on us too. Don't play innocent."
Dante's fists clench. "Call me that again, Vitale, and we'll see who's innocent."
I kick Dante under the table. "Enough," I hiss. He glares but leans back. Luca's smile doesn't waver, but his hand brushes my knee, like he's saying thanks. I pull away. I don't need his help.
An elder from my side, Uncle Carlo, clears his throat. "We expect ten million from the docks this year. Vitale ports handle half."
Rocco, Luca's scarred captain, snorts. "Ten? Optimistic. Our routes are tighter. Eight, max."
The room bristles. Voices rise, numbers flying like bullets. I watch Luca. He's calm, letting Rocco argue, but his eyes keep darting to Sofia. They're hiding something, and I'm not the only one who notices. Isla, Luca's assistant, is in the corner, taking notes on a tablet. Her curly hair's tucked behind her ears, and she's watching everyone, her glasses catching the light. She's not just an assistant. I know it now, after seeing her tablet yesterday, G. Moretti, 2:17 a.m. She's digging, just like me.
The meeting breaks for lunch, and I step into the club's lounge to breathe. The bar's polished wood, and jazz hums from a speaker. I order a soda, my hands still shaky from the tension. Natalia slides onto the stool next to me, her red hair bright against her black dress.
"Fun family meeting," she says, sipping a martini. "Your cousin's got a temper."
I shrug. "Dante's protective. You'd be too if you were us."
She laughs, but it's not friendly. "Us? Sweetie, you're a Vitale now. Or did you forget?"
My jaw tightens. "I didn't forget anything. Unlike some people, I know where my loyalties lie."
Her eyes narrow. "Careful, Seraphina. Loyalties shift fast around here."
She walks away, and I'm left gripping my glass. She's right, and I hate it. I don't know who to trust, Luca, my father, even Dante. That photo keeps flashing in my mind. Who was that man holding me? And why did it show up now?
Isla passes by, her tablet under her arm. She doesn't look at me, but I catch her muttering into a phone. "Yeah, it's tense," she says, her voice low. "Neither side trusts the other. I'll send the report tonight."
My heart skips. Report? To who? I want to follow her, but Luca appears, his hand on my elbow. "You okay?" he asks, his voice soft.
I pull away. "Fine. Just tired of the games."
He raises an eyebrow. "Games? I thought we were playing nice."
I step closer, my voice a whisper. "Nice? Like spying on my family? Or meeting G. Moretti at two in the morning?"
His face doesn't change, but his eyes flicker. "You're fishing, Seraphina. Don't drown."
I hold his gaze. "I'm a good swimmer."
He laughs, but it's tight. "We'll see."
Back in the parlor, the meeting's winding down. Father Enzo's praying again, his hands raised. "May truth guide you," he says. "For lies will burn us all."
I feel his words like a weight. Lies. Like Luca's secrets. Like that photo. Like Isla's report. I glance at Dante, who's still glaring at Luca. Sofia's whispering to Rocco, and my father's signing papers with Uncle Carlo. It's all so fake, this truce. I feel like a pawn, not a wife, and it's eating me up.
As everyone stands to leave, I linger, pretending to fix my purse. Father Enzo's by the fireplace, poking the logs with a metal rod. His eyes meet mine, and he nods, like he's been waiting for me.
I walk over, my heart pounding. "Father," I say, keeping my voice low. "What did you mean? Hidden sins?"
He looks at me, his eyes intense. "You're smart, Seraphina. You see the cracks. Keep looking."
I frown. "Cracks? Like what?"
He glances around, then pulls a folded note from his robe. He presses it into my hand, his grip tight. "Trust no one," he whispers. "Not your husband. Not your father. No one."
My fingers close around the note, my pulse racing. "What's this?"
"Read it later," he says. "Alone."
He turns back to the fire, like nothing happened. I slip the note into my purse, my mind spinning. Trust no one. Not Luca, with his secrets. Not my father, who sold me into this marriage. Not even Father Enzo, who's playing his own game.
I walk out, my heels clicking on the wood floor. The note feels like a bomb in my purse, and I don't know if I'm ready to open it. But I know one thing, I'm not a pawn anymore. I'm going to find the truth, no matter what it costs.