~ Massimo ~
"Firstly, I think it should be backdated," I said to my father, my voice steady. "It'll only be respected if it was dated before she was sold to the Romanovs."
"You're right," Don Giacomo nodded in understanding, his eyes narrowing as he processed the legal trap we were setting.
"That will be difficult though. How're we going to pull it off?" Romeo asked, leaning forward.
"Nothing's too difficult for this syndicate," Don Giacomo gave Romeo a stern look that made him quickly reach for his drink.
He hated his empire being belittled, no matter how slightly, and the air in the room grew colder under his disapproval.
"What he means is we need to come up with something we can execute quick enough before our new enemies strike," Aurelio defended his son, trying to smooth over the tension. "I'm even surprised they haven't struck yet after what you people said Domino pulled off."
"Me too," Cristiano supported with a mock-serious face. "And the longer they take, the worser their attack, eh?"
"Sadly," Marietta sighed, her fingers tapping rhythmically against the table.
"They should bring it on," Domino snorted, sitting like a coiled snake itching for any chance to dish out violence.
"What if they still don't know what hit them?" Lorenzo asked. "None of the Russians in that van Dom ambushed is alive to tell the tale."
"I wish you're right, but it wouldn't take a scientist to figure it out," Aurelio replied.
"Everyone knows how strict we are concerning uninformed territory infiltration, which is what they did. But then the expected scenario was that we seize the van and hold the men hostage until Vladimir pays the fine. Instead, his men and his possessions never returned and we haven't even called him to tell him we have them hostage for territory infiltration. How long do you think it will take him to trace the sudden roadblock between Irish territory and Russian territory that led his men to our own territory and end up disappearing?"
"Actually, it took Vladimir less than twenty-four hours," Don Giacomo answered, and everyone looked at him, the silence in the hall suddenly absolute. "He already called me."
"He did?" We asked almost at the same time and he nodded.
Aurelio straightened. "When?"
It was Juliette who answered, her voice calm but laced with the gravity of the situation. "This morning, before we came down for breakfast."
"Amazing," Cristiano mumbled, his playful mask slipping for a second.
"He asked if I was responsible for the disappearance of his men and said he was ready to pay the fine attached for the uninformed territory infiltration. I told him I was, and that there was no need for a fine because I already collected what I wanted and his men sacrificed their lives trying to stop me," Don Giacomo revealed.
"And what did he say, Pa?" I asked, a bit impatiently, the thought of my son and his mother being hunted making me restless.
"He said I have twenty-four hours to return the woman and kid back or he'll make me do it," my father snorted at his words, like the threat was the funniest thing he'd heard all year.
"For someone that owes us a huge debt, he's sure being mouthy," Aurelio shook his head at the audacity.
"Do you blame him? His deadline for payment hasn't reached yet. When it does, without him paying, he might find it difficult to use his mouth again," Don Giacomo cracked his knuckles, the sound like a series of gunshots in the quiet room.
"Can't fucking wait to get my hands on that dirty bastard," Domino seethed, lighting a cigarette with a flick of his wrist.
A few glances slid my way as if expecting me to react to the f-word, but I didn't. As long as Matteo couldn't hear it, Dom could use it as much as he wanted.
Hell, I would curse too because I felt the same savage heat as him. I seriously wanted to kill Vladimir, then move on to Seamus and do the same—only his death would be much slower and more painful.
"Relax, Dom. The best way to solve this isn't bloodshed. We need something strategic and smart to win this that won't cost us much, and the marriage, I think, is perfect," Aurelio said.
"The issue is, how do we go about it?" Don Giacomo asked.
"Maybe we should explore other options other than marriage," Cristiano suggested with a shrug, and I clamped my jaw shut to stop myself from hissing at him.
I looked at Niamh, who sat as quietly as a ghost, and the sudden, hopeful look in her turquoise eyes told me she agreed with his suggestion.
My chest tightened at the realization of how much she wanted out.
"There would be no need for that because I have the perfect idea to make the marriage work," Marietta smiled confidently at the table.
"And what is it?" Juliette asked.
"Betrothal," Marietta replied.
"A betrothal?"
"Yeah. It has to be a betrothed marriage for it to work. A betrothal will be dated back to the day it was agreed upon—which will be when Massimo and Niamh were kids and then an agreed date when they'll officially get married," Marietta explained.
"That's a sound idea," Don Giacomo commended her, and she grinned proudly. Niamh, though, looked like she was about to reach across the table and pull out Marietta's hair.
"Very brilliant," Aurelio agreed. "But then what are the steps for us to take to achieve this? How're we going to formulate the document?"
"To make it look real, we'll come up with a handwritten paper where Niamh's father and Pa will agree on Massimo and Niamh getting betrothed and then marrying each other when they're older for an alliance between both families, then a blood stamp will seal the agreement.
"The second proof will be the printed version of the betrothal agreement and then a marriage certificate for Niamh and Massimo, honoring the betrothal," Marrieta explained.
"Will they buy this?" Romeo looked unconvinced, his brow furrowed. "Massimo marrying Niamh immediately after kidnapping her and then coming up with a betrothal story?"
"Yes, we'll make it so real that they won't have a choice," Marietta replied confidently. "But first of all, we need someone who can imitate Don Donal's handwriting and then get us his blood for sealing the handwritten document, which would be the original document and foundation of our plan."
"I knew there would be a hurdle, just didn't expect this mountain," Romeo said, leaning back in his seat.
"No kidding. How're we going to get the Godfather's blood while he lies in a coma? Who can even imitate his handwriting? His wife is late, heaven bless her soul," Cristiano nodded at Niamh in respect to her mother.
"Maybe his daughter can do both," Romeo suggested, bringing all the attention onto Niamh.
"I can't imitate my father's writing," Niamh said, her irritation bleeding through her voice, her eyes hard.
"And she won't be the one to get her father's blood. She's a target now, remember?" I reminded them, and there was a collective sigh around the table.
"Is his blood necessary? Any blood can do, right?" Lorenzo asked.
"It is necessary, because when the documents are presented, they'll test the blood on the paper to confirm if it truly belongs to the Godfather," Marietta replied.
"Niamh," Don Giacomo leaned forward, grabbing everyone's attention immediately. The air in the room seemed to vanish as his presence filled the space.
"I believe most Dons leave everything that has to do with documents to their lawyers and only supervise. Like me, Marietta, as the family lawyer, writes everything writable under my instructions. So, are you aware if your father pens documents or agreements down himself or if he has someone—probably his lawyer—do it for him?"
Niamh waited a beat before she replied, her gaze flickering between us. "His lawyer does it for him."
"Perfect," Marietta said, her eyes gleaming. "So the lawyer is who we're looking for, not your father."
"Maybe he could get us the blood we need too," Juliette added.
"That's if he has access to the Godfather's hospital room," Romeo said.
"He has to. The lawyer is like the left-hand man of the Don," Aurelio said.
"Alright then, so he's the key we need to make this marriage work. We need to find him," Marietta said, then added, "Quickly."
"And how do we find him fast enough?" I asked.
"Maybe Niamh could help us with that," Aurelio's smile was a bit coy, his eyes watching her every move.
Niamh shifted uncomfortably in her seat as all eyes fell on her, and I had a sudden, overwhelming urge to shield her from their predatory stares.
"Niamh, do you know how we can find your father's lawyer?" My father pinned her with his hard, unrelenting stare.
It was a simple question, but he had a way of making simple questions sound like lethal threats.
I watched Niamh as we waited for her reply. She looked like she was contemplating telling the truth or lying, her mind working behind those beautiful, troubled eyes.
She never wanted to proceed with this marriage, and now, somehow, the key was in her hand.
The lawyer was the answer, and if she lied, she might just get her wish to be free of me.