"There is nothing wrong with revenge. The wrong has already been done, or there would be no need to even the score."
- Ashly Lorenzana
I was a mess of contradictions. One moment, I couldn't stand him, the next, I wanted him so bad I couldn't put it into words.
Was I losing my mind? There was no shred of doubt that I was.
But I was done thinking about him.
I allowed myself to drift so far away from my goal, but not anymore.
The usual monotone ring of my phone shattered the peace of my evening as I was comfortably sprawled out on the couch. Squinting against the intrusive glow of the screen, I fumbled a moment before finally answering.
"Papa, hey," I said, keeping my tone light as I stretched out my sore muscles. The spar with Hector was.. quite something.
"Hey, still tied up at the office?" papa asked.
"No, I'm at home now, kicking back," I chuckled into the phone, stretching my feet onto the coffee table. "What's going on?"
"There's something I'd like to talk to you about. Can you come by? There's someone here that I'd like you to meet," his voice dropped to a serious undertone.
"Sure thing, papa. I'll be there in twenty," I replied, struggling to keep the apprehension out of my voice.
Papa had never really formally introduced me to anyone before, which only served to heighten my nerves. And yet the earnest gravity of his voice suggested that this wasn't just some ordinary introduction. It was more serious, it felt somehow important.
Without wasting a moment, I fetched my handbag and proceeded to the driveway, calling out for Sawyer. I got into the car, anticipating his arrival.
"Where are we headed?" Sawyer inquired, turning on the car.
"Papa's place. He called me," I responded.
"Any clue as to why?" he wondered.
"All he said was that he wanted me to meet someone. It sounded urgent," I muttered, brows furrowing in thought.
"That's unusual," he commented, a tone of curiosity in his voice.
"Exactly what I thought," I sighed.
I couldn't shake the uncomfortable prickling sensation crawling up my spine. Something didn't sit right with me.
Less than twenty minutes later, we pulled up outside papa's mansion. As soon as I stepped out of the car, I was greeted by Vito, one of my father's most trusted men.
"Ma'am, it's good to see you. How's your day been?" he asked.
"Vito, always a pleasure. I'm doing well. How's your mother?"
"She's doing well ma'am, thank you for asking," he said, a broad grin breaking out on his face.
"Take good care of her, she's a gem," I returned his grin and left him to turn my attention towards the entrance of the house.
Stepping through the doors, my eyes quickly scanned the spacious living room. They darted from the grand piano to the family portraits hanging above the fireplace before landing on the notorious Camorrista, Salvatore Lombardi, also known as Big Solly, and his son, Severino.
The two of them were as notorious as they came, with reputations of fear and respect trailing in their wake. Papa and Ronan had often spoken about them and even showed me pictures of their hunting adventures together.
"Frankie, dear," papa left his plush seat and warmly engulfed me in a comforting embrace. Despite the warmth from the fatherly hug, my gaze stayed glued onto the intimidating figure of Salvatore Lombardi.
Following a round of formal introductions, I stepped forward and extended a hand to Big Solly, who stood to reciprocate the gesture. Contrary to the tough reputation that preceded him, his grip was incredibly soft, and his smile radiated a warmth that was entirely unanticipated.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Monroe," he said in a voice so thickly coated in an Italian accent that it added a certain charm to his persona.
"The pleasure is all mine," I reciprocated and shifted my attention to greet Severino. His presence was more restrained compared to his father's but the strength in his handshake spoke volumes of his inherited vigor.
To be completely honest, I wasn't expecting the Lombardis at papa's. My initial sense of shock gave way to uneasiness, particularly when I felt Big Solly's gaze scrutinizing me as I settled down beside my father on the sofa. It felt like he was sizing me up, probing into my soul with his eyes that held an intensity strong enough to cut through steel.
"Everything alright?" papa questioned.
Snapping back to reality as if jolted, Big Solly attempted to explain himself. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, it's just that you bear a striking resemblance to someone I know," he apologized.
"I don't get that a lot, but don't worry about it. It's perfectly alright," I chuckled, easing any tension that may have lingered in the air.
There was an air of confusion as to why I was summoned here, yet it was perfectly clear that my presence carried great weight for my father. With his honour at stake, I needed to give the performance of a lifetime.
"So, Francesca," Big Solly began, the tremble in his throat subtly suggesting tension, "What exactly is it that you do for Conor?"
I locked my gaze with his for a brief second before answering. "I handle all of his legal matters, from contracts to disputes to negotiations," I replied confidently. "I'm here to ensure that his interests are protected at all times, like any good lawyer would."
Salvatore studied me, as if measuring the sincerity of my words. "Is that all?" he questioned.
Reading his implied suspicion, I realized the truth was the only way forward.
"You don't have to answer that," papa interjected.
"It's okay," I reassured him before turning my attention back to Big Solly. "I do whatever it takes to protect Conor and his business interests. Whether it's gathering intel, negotiating deals, or dealing with any threats that may come our way. I make problems go away, Big Solly. Permanently." My eyes gleamed with a dangerous light.
Papà shifted in his seat, a clear sign of discomfort.
Big Solly's eyes narrowed as he processed my response. "I see," he said slowly.
Maintaining the balance between sounding credible but not weak was crucial before Salvatore and his son, hence, I straightened my posture and held his intense stare without blinking.
"But what sets you apart from the others who have worked for Papa Jones before?" Severino chimed in, his eyes flickering with curiosity.
Suppressing a smirk, I softened my demeanor. "I am someone who always gets the job done. No matter how difficult the task is or how dangerous the threats are, I always find a way to make it work."
Big Solly's eyes narrowed slightly again, but he seemed impressed by my answer. "And what kind of threats are we talking about?"
I shrugged casually. "All sorts. Competitors, informants, law enforcement, you name it."
"That sounds pretty dangerous. Have you ever been in any shootouts or anything like that?" Severino questioned.
I couldn't help but grin at his eagerness and I simply nodded as an answer to his question.
Severino looked at his father, his admiration clearly showing. "È incredibilmente brava, è tutto ciò che vorrei che fosse il mio avvocato, (she's incredibly good, she's everything I wish my lawyer was)" he chuckled.
"Gli avvocati come noi sono una razza rara, (Lawyers like us are a rare breed)" I quipped, shooting him a playful smile.
"E puoi anche parlare italiano! Cos'è che non puoi fare? (and you can even speak Italian! What is it that you can't do?)" Severino quipped back, amusement shining in his eyes.
I couldn't resist smirking at him. It was satisfying to see the impressed looks on their faces, and I knew I could put my worries about papa to rest.
Salvatore nodded thoughtfully. "Well, it's good to know Conor has someone like you looking out for him. But just remember, Francesca, there's always someone out there who wants what Conor has. And they'll stop at nothing to get it."
I met his gaze unflinchingly. "I know, Salvatore. But that's why I'm here. To make sure no one gets in Conor's way." It was more of a threat than a statement.
The room fell silent for a moment as everyone contemplated my words. The tension was then broken when papa gently touched my shoulder.
"That's my girl," he declared proudly before addressing Salvatore, "She's my red line, Big Solly."
"I get it," Big Solly acknowledged. "What we discuss here stays strictly confined within these four walls. I give you my word."
"I appreciate it, Salvatore," papa nodded.
"Now, onto the second reason why I'm here," Salvatore declared.
"Alright then, I'll let you proceed," I replied, standing up to leave.
"No, please, stay," Big Solly insisted. "You've demonstrated your importance in Conor's business, and it's only fair for you to be present in this meeting. I truly value your input on this matter."
I glanced at papa, waiting for his approval.
"It's alright, honey. Stay," papa gave his consent.
Accepting their request, I reseated myself, keen to hear what Big Solly had to discuss.
"We all know that there's a power struggle in the Bratva after Sergei's passing. With no rightful heir, his nephew Aleksander Ivanov has stepped forward to try and resolve the conflict. He reached out to me, wanting a meeting to discuss his interest in continuing his uncle's business here in Chicago," Big Solly announced.
Curious, I didn't hesitate to ask, "Does he have any information about his uncle's murder?"
"Actually, he does. He knows the details and surprisingly, he's not seeking revenge. He simply wants to focus on the business side," Big Solly responded with a touch of unease in his voice.
"Do you believe him?" papa interjected.
"Whether I believe him or not is beside the point, Conor. It's crucial to have an Ivanov involved to avoid internal conflicts. We need to maintain control. The last thing we need is a turf war," Big Solly explained. "What are your thoughts, Francesca?"
The logic was sound, war would only hurt our business.
"Look, I've already had my people do some digging about him, and I have some concerns. It seems he hasn't always been the most reputable person to do business with. However, I believe we should give him a chance to prove his worth and see how he handles things," I said.
Salvatore nodded approvingly, clearly impressed.
"Alright, let's do this. When and where?" Papà asked with a poker face, but his tone said otherwise.
"Tomorrow at eight p.m. We've secured The Langham for the meeting. Severino has taken care of all the arrangements," Big Solly answered, signaling the end of our conversation. "I'll see you all there, my friend."
Papà firmly shook Big Solly's hand, his apprehension evident. "I'll be there."
Big Solly then turned to me, extending his hand. "Once again, Francesca, I apologize for the confusion. We're starting fresh, alright?"
With a nod, I accepted his handshake. "Clean slate."
──●◎●──
My workload had been sky high recently and free time was a luxury I had to savour. It had been far too long since I'd made my way over to see Ronan, so I decided to swing by his place for a visit.
Upon reaching Ronan's villa, Hector's jet-black Jeep Wrangler immediately caught my attention. I would have reconsidered my visit if I had known he'd be here, but it was too late now. I had to face him.
My thoughts were soon pushed aside when the front door of the villa opened to reveal the broad, familiar form of Ronan. "Frankie! It's great to see you, sweetheart!" he hollered out with unbridled enthusiasm, his broad arms open and ready for a welcoming hug.
I embraced him, a faint smile managing to break through my concerns. "Missed you, Rory," I murmured into his shirt.
Ronan chuckled softly, squeezing me tighter. "And I you, baby." His voice took on a softer tone as he pulled back to address Sawyer. "Sawyer, how's it been?"
"All good here, Ronan," Sawyer responded. "You?"
"Absolutely stellar, my man. Let's get comfortable inside," he suggested, beckoning us to follow him into the living room.
As we crossed the threshold into the spacious room, my gaze immediately fell on Hector, sprawled in ease by the crackling, warm fireplace, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. His presence brought forth an instant sense of familiarity, one that calmed and agitated my nerves simultaneously.
"Hey," I greeted casually, forcing an unaffected air. I found a comfortable spot on the plush leather couch adjacent to him.
"Hey, how you doing?" he questioned, shifting his eyes from the fireplace to me, holding my gaze with a discerning look.
"I'm good, you?" I retorted, keeping my expression guarded.
He offered no response verbally, instead opting to answer with a thoughtful nod, maintaining the weight of his stare on me. This attention was enough to cause an onslaught of suppressed emotions to start pushing through the carefully crafted defenses I had put up.
He looked icy cold but with a fiery spirit that was easy to feel coming off of him in waves. His eyes pinned me in place, making me incredibly aware of the desire rising in me. His lips were like the darkest and most evil sins, and they seemed to tempt me with little effort.
Why did he have to be so insanely good looking? Why did his gray eyes have to be so dark and alluring? Why did I love to lose my sanity around him? Why was I so hypnotically drawn to his darkness?
Just then, Ronan playfully interrupted the charged silence between Hector and me. Ronan made his presence known. "Frankie dear, it warms my heart to see you making time for this old man," he teased.
I rolled my eyes playfully at him. "Don't start, Rory. You know I'll always have time for you. And for the last time, you're not old!"
"That's exactly what I wanted to hear," he retorted, his chuckles ringing in the room. "So, what's the latest, kids?"
Hector answered first, breaking the news we'd come to deliver. "Sergei's nephew, he's here, in town."
"Sergei had a nephew?" Ronan's brows furrowed in a combination of shock and confusion.
"Apparently so. Aleksander Ivanov. At the ripe age of thirty-five, this man has built a name for himself in Russia. And believe me, it's not a good one. Notorious for his ruthlessness, the guy doesn't possess an iota of morals or boundaries." Hector painted a chilling picture of Sergei's nephew.
"Just what we need!" Ronan grumbled. "Is he here for revenge?"
"As far as I've gathered, he's here on business," Hector clarified. "But knowing his reputation, we shouldn't rule anything out."
I was amazed at how quickly Hector had gathered such extensive information. I had only just learned about Alexander's arrival in Chicago today.
The severity of the situation hit me suddenly. "We're going back to square one," I found myself saying, sinking deeper into the plush cushions of the couch.
"What do you mean?" Ronan questioned, baffled.
"I mean tightening our security detail, doubling up on men and strengthening the protocols. We need to operate like we did in the beginning. Basically, we're back at square one," I clarified, the undertone of worry slipping into my voice.
Hector nodded gravely. "Square one. You've got to make sure you're doing that, Frankie. And Ronan and I will do the same. We can't underestimate this guy, he's far worse than Sergei."
"Frankie, for the love of all that's holy, maintain some distance from Conor and me. This man should never know of your connection to us," Ronan pleaded, a glint of genuine concern for my safety reflected in his eyes.
I shook my head vehemently. "That's not going to happen, Rory. I will always be where I have to be, doing everything in my power to ensure you and Conor are safe."
"But..." Ronan began to object but I stopped him, walking towards the exit with Sawyer in tow.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Rory." With that, I made my way out of the house.
A storm was brewing. That much was evident. No matter how ready I was for it, the uneasiness was gradually and relentlessly crawling up my spine.