Chapter 11
JACE MARINO
Family. People romanticize it, like it's this unshakable anchor in a storm. To me, it's a weight—iron chains forged long before I was born. My bloodline isn't just Marino. It's legacy, debt, territory, enemies that multiply faster than friends.
The Marino name carries weight, but weight can crush as much as it protects. My father built an empire in trade—routes that stretch from this city to the edges of the state and far beyond. And because we hold so much, there's always someone clawing to take it away.
I learned early: silence wins over noise. Silence makes people underestimate you. That's why I don't drink coffee in crowded shops, don't waste words where none are needed. But silence is hard to keep these days. The Serranos have been testing how far they can push before someone snaps. And Enzo… Enzo is the one holding their leash.
He's been circling, testing the edges of our territory, sending men into spaces that should've stayed off-limits. A bold move, even for him. And people talk. They whisper that Enzo walks through hospitals like he owns them, maybe he does, smiles his way into galleries, eats with people he shouldn't even know.One name keeps surfacing in those whispers.Julian.The first time I heard it, I dismissed it. Coincidence, I told myself. But it's been repeating too often to ignore. Julian isn't supposed to matter. He's supposed to be just another face in the crowd. But lately, I've been noticing him more than I should. And if I've noticed him, that means Enzo has too.That thought alone makes my blood run hot.I've always preferred silence—silence over noise, silence over pointless conversation. But silence won't protect what's mine. Not this time.So when the message came that Enzo wanted a meeting, I didn't hesitate. I went.
The room Enzo picked was a glass box over the river in DUMBO—quiet, slick, expensive. He was already there, jacket off, cuffs neat, like he'd been born waiting for people to arrive.
"Jace." He smiled like we were friends.
I didn't sit right away. "Make it quick."
"I will." He folded his hands. "The Marinos have their hands on everything—construction, bids, city contracts, favors upstate, even out of state. Leave the trading lines. Let us run them."
"No."
He tilted his head. "You didn't even ask what you'd get."
"I heard you the first time."
A small laugh. "You're still your father's son. Fine." He shifted, eyes light. "How was Azure House?"
My jaw went tight. "What?"
"The gallery." He watched me. "Nice show. I took some new friends. The loud one—Luka?—he loved it. The other—Rico—didn't love me. And Julian…" He said the name like he was tasting it. "He has a good eye."
"Stay away from him."
"Relax." He lifted a hand. "We walked, we ate, we took pictures. He's very polite. Loyal to his mother. People at the hospital adore her."
He shouldn't have known any of that.
Enzo kept going, easy voice, sharper words. "Big week for you, too. Talk of a marriage. The Yakuza daughter. Good alliance. Strong walls… if you like walls."
"My family is my business."
"And yet you spend time caring about a student," he said, smile thin. "Interesting use of your hours, Professor."
I leaned forward. "Say his name again."
He held my stare, pleased to find the bruise. "Sensitive." A beat. "Here's my offer, simple and clean. You step back from trading. We keep things calm at the docks. No delays, no inspections, no boys with more guns than sense practicing on your buildings. Everyone wins."
"The Serranos are your dogs," I said.
He didn't deny it. "They're useful."
"I'm not handing you anything."
Enzo sighed like I'd disappointed him in a small way. "Then we'll all keep spending money until one of us is tired. You hate noise, Jace. This path is noisy."
I stood. "We're done."
"Last thing," he said, still seated, still calm. "Tell your father congratulations on the engagement talks. And tell Julian I enjoyed the gallery. He should go back—without the weight he's carrying."
I took a step toward him. He didn't flinch. Smart—he knew I wouldn't break the table.
"Don't put his name in your mouth again," I said.
Enzo's smile came back, slow. "Then keep him far from mine."
I left before I did something stupid. Outside, the air was cold enough to bite. I called Mateo the second I hit the sidewalk.
He pulled up immediately like he was around the corner.
I slid into the seat, shutting the door behind me, and exhaled slowly. Chaos threatened to spill out of me, control slipping thread by thread, but I held on to whatever passed for sanity these days.
Silence stretched. Mateo didn't speak, which made me uneasy. He only stared. He's always been the quiet one. To most, unreadable. To me, brutal and cold. I've never seen him with friends, never seen him soften. He takes after me, not our father. That's why I keep him close.
"You look like you just came out of a war," he finally said.
I didn't reply to him immediately.
"Keep your eyes on the docks," I said. "If an inspector sneezes, I want to know before he finds a tissue. And put a quiet tail near the hospital and Azure House. Enzo's fishing."
"For what?" Mateo asked.
"Leverage." I looked back at the glass room. Enzo hadn't moved. "And I think he thinks he found it.".
He nodded.
"Your bride is flying into New York tomorrow." His eyes never left mine. "Say the word, and we'll burn it all before it begins." A pause. "You can't hide from me, Jace. I know you don't want this. You can't keep two people. You're drowning in whatever it is you feel for that kid, and trouble is circling him." He cleared his throat. "And you don't want that storm."
"Why New York?" I asked.
He frowned. "What?"
"Why is she flying into New York and not Brooklyn?"
"That's Father's territory. He wants you there tomorrow to pick her up from the airport."
My jaw tightened. I hate New York. Brooklyn gives me distance, control, and a sliver of peace. New York strips it from me. My father knows that. He's plotting something—he always is. He knows my secrets, my triggers, and he'd love nothing more than to drag out the boy he once commanded, the boy who still flinches at his voice.
"I'm not going," I said flatly.
Mateo didn't push. "Alright. Marco and I will handle it."
That's how he is—no questions, no digging. He understands me too well. He was there when everything fell apart, long before Marco joined us.
My phone buzzed. I ignored it. "Take me to the office," I said. Mateo nodded, started the car, and pulled us through the driveway. I leaned back, exhaled again. Too much breathing today. Never a good sign.
The phone buzzed again. And again. With reluctance, I pulled it out. My heart stopped.
Him.
The text was from him. My chest tightened, beating too hard, too fast. I felt like I might break apart right there in the seat. Since the first day I noticed him at Brooklyn Law, I haven't been able to look away. He's been pulling me under ever since. And God help me, I want to drown.
I unlocked the phone.
Julian:You don't want to open your door for me? I've been knocking forever.
Did I do something wrong? You haven't texted or called. Scratch that, you never call.
Are you giving up on me? I thought you said I had hope.
Adorable.
A low laugh slipped out before I could stop it. "So you are worried about me," I muttered, smiling like a fool.
Mateo scoffed. "Your little baby is texting you now? You're grinning like an idiot."
I ignored him. "Take me home. He's waiting."
My body itched with the need to see him, touch him, claim what's already mine. I missed him more than I wanted to admit.
Mateo chuckled darkly. "I'm telling Marco. He'll annoy the hell out of him."
I didn't care. I just smiled, pulse racing. I couldn't wait to get home.