Chapter 3 - The Claim
The atmosphere in the grand parlor was suffocating.
Carmine Valenti sat on the velvet sofa like a bloated spider, clutching an ivory-headed cane between his knees. He was sixty-five, with slicked-back grey hair, pinstriped wool, and eyes as dead as a lizard's. Surrounding him were six heavy-set men in dark coats, their hands subtly resting inside their jackets.
Aleandro walked into the room with slow, deliberate authority, Marco walking half a step behind him.
"Carmine," Aleandro said coldly, taking a seat in the single leather armchair across from the rival don. He didn't offer a drink. He didn't offer a handshake. "You’re off your turf."
Carmine let out a raspy, wheezing laugh. "Always so formal, Aleandro. I came to deliver a friendly message. Or rather... a business proposition."
"I don't do business with snakes," Aleandro replied flatly.
Carmine’s yellowed teeth showed in a fake smile. "You think you own this city because your father left you a clean empire. But times are changing, boy. The docks in Brooklyn belong to the Valenti family now. And if you don't sign over the shipping manifests by Friday... well, accidents happen. To your assets. To your estate."
Aleandro leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes flashing with a dangerous, lethal light. "Is that a threat, Carmine?"
"It’s a reality," Carmine sneered, leaning heavily on his cane. "You stand alone, Aleandro. No wife, no heir, no family to secure your bloodline. You’re just a lone wolf sitting in a giant house. When a wolf gets old, the pack eats him."
Before Aleandro could respond, the heavy wooden doors to the parlor creaked open.
Elena had been told by Marco to stay in the kitchen, but Mia had slipped past her guards to look for her misplaced stuffed rabbit. Elena had sprinted down the hallway to grab her daughter, catching Mia just as the toddler trotted right into the doorway of the grand parlor.
"Mommy, look!" Mia chirped loudly, holding up a bright red ribbon she had found on the carpet.
Every man in the room snapped their heads toward the door.
Elena froze, her heart plummeting into her stomach as she scooped Mia up into her arms, backing away frantically. "I'm so sorry—I'm so sorry—"
Carmine Valenti’s eyes widened, a sudden, vicious gleam creeping into his expression as he looked at Elena and the child. He took in Elena’s pale beauty, her trembling form, and the little girl clutched against her chest.
"Well, well, well," Carmine purred, a dark smile spreading across his face. "What do we have here? A maid? I didn't know you kept such pretty little distractions in your house, Aleandro. Who is she?"
One of Carmine’s lieutenants stepped forward, scanning a tablet in his hand. He whispered rapidly into Carmine’s ear. "That’s Elena Rossi. Widowed wife of Julian Rossi. Rossi owed fifty grand to our loan sharks in Queens before he died."
Carmine’s smile turned predatory. He tapped his cane against the floor. "Ah! Julian Rossi’s debt! What a small world. It seems your little maid owes my family fifty thousand dollars, Aleandro. In fact, since her husband is dead, I think I’ll take the mother and the kid to pay off the interest today."
Two of Carmine’s armed thugs immediately took a step toward Elena.
Elena gasped, pulling Mia tight against her collarbone, backing into the doorframe. "No! Please!"
"Touch them," Aleandro’s voice cut through the room like a executioner's blade, "and nobody in this room leaves alive."
The tension snapped tight. Marco and six Moretti guards instantly drew their weapons, aiming directly at Carmine’s men. Carmine’s thugs pulled their handguns in response. The parlor turned into an armed standoff where a single twitch would result in a bloodbath.
Carmine didn't flinch. He laughed softly. "Come now, Aleandro. You're going to start a syndicate war over a servant? She’s just a housemaid with a debt. She means nothing to you."
Aleandro stood up slowly.
He didn't look at the guns pointed at his chest. He didn't look at Carmine. He walked directly past the armed men, stopping right in front of Elena.
Elena was trembling so hard she could barely stand, her eyes wide with terror as she clutched Mia.
Aleandro reached out. His large, warm hand gently cupped the side of Elena’s neck, his fingers resting over her racing pulse. The touch was possessive, solid, and impossibly protective.
He turned his head slowly to glare at Carmine Valenti with eyes of pure fire.
"She isn't a maid, Carmine," Aleandro announced, his voice echoing off the high ceilings with absolute finality. "And her debt was settled the moment she agreed to wear my ring."
A silent shockwave hit the room.
Carmine’s eyes bulged. "What?"
Aleandro pulled Elena flush against his side, his arm wrapping securely around her waist, locking her body against his chest. Mia looked up at him in confusion, but Aleandro gently patted the little girl's back with his large hand.
"Elena Rossi is my fiancée," Aleandro lied smoothly, his eyes burning into Carmine’s soul. "In three weeks, she becomes Elena Moretti. Touch my bride or her daughter, Carmine, and I won't just kill you. I will erase your entire bloodline from the face of this earth."
Elena’s heart slammed against her ribs so hard she thought she might faint. She stared up at Aleandro’s sharp, ruthless profile. Fiancée?!
Carmine stared at Aleandro, searching the Don's granite face for any flicker of a bluff. But Aleandro’s eyes were cold, unyielding, and utterly terrifying.
Carmine slowly stood up, gripping his cane until his knuckles turned white. "A fiancée," Carmine muttered bitterly. "You expect me to believe you’re marrying a penniless widow?"
"I don't care what you believe," Aleandro rasped softly. "Get out of my house."
Carmine spat on the Persian rug, turning toward his men. "Lower your weapons. We’re leaving."
As Carmine walked past Elena, he paused for a brief second, casting a cruel, lingering glance at her face. "Congratulations, Mrs. Rossi. You just stepped into the line of fire."
The Valenti men retreated down the hall, the heavy front doors slamming shut behind them.
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The moment the front gates cleared, Elena pulled back from Aleandro’s grip, her breathing fast and ragged. "What... what did you just do?!" she gasped out. "Fiancée?! Mr. Moretti, have you lost your mind?!"
Aleandro turned to her, his face completely unreadable. "I just saved your life, Elena. And your daughter’s."
