Chapter One Hundred and One

Genevieve clung tightly to Matteo’s arm, as if he were the only steady thing in a sea of chaos. The grandeur of the main hall enveloped her as they stepped inside, and she paused to take it all in. The space was vast enough to hold thousands of guests. Tables were arranged along one side, a large open area stretched out for dancing, a podium sat elevated on a stage, and a bar lined the far wall. The air buzzed faintly with anticipation and the subtle scent of polished wood and fresh flowers. She inhaled deeply, steadying herself just as a man approached them.

“Mr. Accardi,” the man greeted with a formal nod, marking Matteo’s name off a lengthy list. “May I inquire who you’ve brought with you?”

“This is Genevieve Sinclair,” Matteo said smoothly, stepping back and raising her hand slightly as if presenting her for inspection. Then, without missing a beat, he pulled her close to his side.

“I’ve also brought my personal security detail,” he added.

Genevieve glanced over her shoulder and spotted Leo and Frankie, both wearing serious, watchful expressions. Leo’s eyes scanned the room with his usual calm vigilance, while Frankie’s gaze was sharper, colder—almost like he wore a mask. She was reminded of the first time she’d met him. Though his tousled hair was now slicked back and his tuxedo concealed most of his tattoos, some ink still peeked from beneath his shirt sleeves. The scars on his cheek and throat remained, impossible to hide. His black eyes didn’t just look around; they locked onto targets, dissecting and dismissing threats with brutal efficiency. A shiver ran through her at the intensity of his stare, but paradoxically, she felt safer than she had in a long time with him standing guard behind her.

Matteo’s own posture had changed the moment they entered the hall. His back was rigid, his eyes darkened with no trace of their usual golden hue. His jaw twitched slightly as he surveyed the banquet room.

“Gentlemen, please step over here and allow our security to collect your weapons. Madame, if you would follow me this way,” the man instructed.

Genevieve’s grip on Matteo’s arm tightened in sudden panic, causing his eyes to dart around the room before he wrapped his other arm protectively around her, shielding her with his body.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered urgently.

“I thought you said we wouldn’t be separated,” she murmured, anxiety creeping into her voice.

Immediately, his gaze softened. He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “We all have to be searched before entering, Weakness. No weapons are allowed past this point. You’ll be searched right here, then taken behind that curtain to be patted down by a woman,” he explained quietly.

Relief flooded through Genevieve, and she exhaled a long breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Matteo kissed her hand as he released it from his arm, then turned to join Leo and Frankie. She followed the attendant behind the curtain, where a burly woman with a bored expression instructed her to raise her hands and spread her legs. The woman’s touch was brusque and clinical as she searched her, then nodded for Genevieve to leave.

“Thank you,” Genevieve said uncertainly, unsure of the proper etiquette after being frisked for weapons. The woman raised an eyebrow but quickly turned away.

Emerging from behind the curtain, Genevieve was immediately shadowed by Leo. Her eyes lifted to find Matteo watching her from across the atrium. He gave her a quick wink while a man ran his hands along Matteo’s arms and down his back. She shook her head with a small smile as the man removed two handguns and three knives from Matteo’s waistband. The search continued with the removal of another handgun strapped to his right ankle and a fourth knife from his left. Matteo held steady eye contact with the man until he was dismissed and sent on his way. Without hesitation, he strode directly to her and wrapped his arm around her back.

“Do you really need all that?” she asked, curiosity mingling with amusement as he guided her toward the stairwell.

“You can never be too careful,” he whispered into her ear with a sly grin. “You should see the one I’ve got loaded between my thighs.”

The joke broke the tension, and she relaxed, her shoulders dropping as they descended the stairs. Matteo intertwined their fingers and gently tugged her toward the bar across the room.

Most of the stools along the excessively long bar were occupied by women, their laughter and chatter filling the space. Matteo helped her settle onto one of the stools and ordered her a tequila. Genevieve’s gaze drifted to the women, who were openly flirting with various men weaving through the crowd. She raised an eyebrow at Matteo, who appeared oblivious to the scene around him. The tequila arrived, and she took a tentative sip.

—

“Accardi,” Frankie announced, stepping up beside them. Genevieve noticed his disheveled appearance immediately. His dress shirt hung loose from his waistband, the buttons on his vest were misaligned, and his belt had slipped through several loops.

“What happened to you?” she asked, concern flickering in her voice.

Frankie smirked with pride. “Strip search, Donna.”

Matteo’s expression darkened with disapproval. “Frankie tries to sneak something in every year. They tend to handle him a bit roughly because of it.”

“One of these years, I’ll get something past them,” Frankie said confidently, nodding toward a group of men watching nearby. “You’re needed.”

Matteo leaned close and whispered in Genevieve’s ear, “I have to go. Enjoy your drink. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Whatever you say,” she replied, watching as he disappeared into the crowd, his eyes scanning the room with sharp intent. Frankie followed, looking like he only needed a single bad look to go feral.

As Matteo passed Leo, who was perched on a stool down the bar, he shot him a warning glance that said to stay glued to Genevieve like his life depended on it. Then Matteo vanished into the throng of men waiting to speak with him. The protective bubble around her instantly burst. She felt dozens of eyes shift toward her, heavy and predatory. Her skin prickled uncomfortably as she nervously scanned the room, locking eyes with several men who watched her like lions spotting a lone, limping gazelle at the watering hole.

Even the women seemed to take sudden interest in the newcomer who had arrived with Matteo. They whispered among themselves and occasionally pointed in her direction. Just as Genevieve felt overwhelmed by the unwanted attention, a familiar voice called out to her.

She sighed with relief. “Hi, Mr. O’Brien. Hello, Maisy.”

Maisy greeted her with a quick hug and slid onto the stool beside her.

“I have to be honest, I didn’t expect Accardi to be brave enough to bring you here,” O’Brien said with a knowing smile.

“Why’s that?” Genevieve asked, hoping to learn more about the significance of this event.

“You’re single,” Maisy replied as if that explained everything.

“Uh, no, I’m with Accardi,” Genevieve corrected.

Maisy giggled. “That doesn’t mean you’re taken. Under this roof, you need a ring to be off the market,” she said, wiggling her empty ring finger for emphasis.

“What exactly are you two talking about?” Genevieve asked, growing more curious.

“Accardi didn’t fill you in?” O’Brien asked, genuinely surprised.

Genevieve sighed. “No, I got into a bit of trouble, and he’s keeping me in the dark as punishment.”

“Ooh, not quite the punishment I’d have in mind for you, but alright,” O’Brien said with a playful raise of his eyebrows. “Oh, that’s the other girl Accardi brought. I need to see if we can use her. I’ll be back, Sis,” he said quickly before hurrying off.

Genevieve followed his gaze and groaned when she spotted Mallory clinging to Louis’s arm. Mallory beamed up at O’Brien as he pushed several admirers aside to reach her. While Genevieve wanted nothing more than to shrink away from the hundreds of leering eyes, Mallory seemed to revel in the attention.

—

“You might want to tell your brother he’s wasting his time with that one,” Genevieve said, turning back to Maisy and taking another cautious sip of tequila.

“He’s hoping to snag one of Accardi’s girls to use them for spy work. He’s always been jealous of Accardi’s knack for recruiting good women. He got pretty butthurt when Bella left. After what happened with Galante, he’s on a mission,” Maisy explained, shaking her head.

“So this is all about networking, finding new employees willing to work in the shadier side of things?”

Maisy gave Genevieve a pitying look. “No, Gen, this isn’t about networking. It’s about diplomacy, orchestrating takeovers, and proving to the other men here who has the bigger wallet and the fatter… well, you get the idea.”

“How?”

Maisy eyed her carefully. “Through the women.”

“Ah, Accardi said it would be a test to see if I’d make a good Donna. I’m supposed to make deals, schmooze, impress?”

Maisy’s eyes hardened. “No, Gen. You’re meant to make alliances through…” She cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable. “Through fucking, basically.”

A chill ran through Genevieve’s veins. “Excuse me?”

“Think of us like the London Ton: high society folk who attend parties, flaunt their wealth, and wager for the best match. Except here, it’s mafia men who put their girls on display and auction them off for money, alliances, or to get rid of a woman in the family who’s become a liability. It’s all very medieval.”

“So by bringing me here without a ring on my finger…”

“You’re close to Accardi. Everyone wants to know his secrets. Add your beauty on top of that, and you’ll go for a pretty penny.”