Page 50 of The Serpent's Bride
“And your cousins probably don’t know that yet.” My pulse quickened as both men stared at me. “Offer them partial control in the docks. They’ll have no idea it’s wasted land.”
Sergio blinked once. I kept going. “Make it look like a compromise. A peace offering. Let them think they’re winning part of the city.”
Understanding slowly spread across Sergio’s face.
“They’ll pour money into protecting territory that’s about to become unusable,” he murmured.
“And while they’re distracted,” I said softly, “you strengthen the profitable areas they actually should’ve fought for.”
Complete silence followed. Then Sergio leaned back in his chair slowly, staring at me differently now. Not warmly, but no longer dismissively.
“Well,” he muttered. “That’s an interesting fucking idea. Make them think we’re working with them, but give them nothing but a wasteland.”
Leo hadn’t looked away from me once. There was something unreadable in his expression now. Something darker than amusement.Pride.
“You’ve been listening to men talk business your whole life,” he said.
It wasn’t a question. I swallowed. “My father liked pretending I wasn’t intelligent enough to understand him.”
Leo’s gaze dragged over my face slowly. “He was wrong. And I think you’ve earned a reward now, Chiara.”
Chapter Nine: LEO
Ishould’veknownChiarawouldbe dangerous the second she opened her mouth at breakfast.
Not because she threatened me. Plenty of people had done that before. Men with guns in their hands. Blood on their suits. Fear hidden beneath fake confidence. No, Chiara was dangerous because she sat barefoot at my table, sunlight spilling over her pale skin like molten gold, and solved a problem my men had spent months fighting over without even realizing how brilliant she was.
That kind of intelligence was rare. That kind wrapped itself around a man’s throat before he noticed he was choking.
The dining room stayed quiet after she finished speaking. Steam curled lazily from Sergio’s coffee while pale morning light stretched across the marble floors and white walls of the penthouse. Everything felt too still and controlled. Even the silence belonged to me.
Chiara shifted slightly beneath our attention, one tiny bare foot curling against the chair leg. She tried to hide her nerves, but I noticed anyway. I noticed everything about her now.
The way her fingers tightened subtly around the edge of the table. The faint flush creeping up her throat. The loose strands of blonde hair escaping the braid she’d twisted together purely to spite me.
And the ring. My ring. The precious stones flashed against her delicate hand every time she moved, obnoxiously large against her tiny fingers. She could’ve taken it off upstairs. Could’ve thrown it across the room out of spite. But she hadn’t.
Something dark and deeply possessive settled warmly in my chest at the sight. Christ. She was beautiful. Not in the polished, predictable way most women around me were beautiful. Those women tried too hard. Too much makeup. Too much perfume. Too eager to please.
Chiara looked untouched. Soft golden hair. Huge blue eyes sharp with fury. Full pink lips practically made for sinful things. And that tiny little body wrapped in silk like a fucking present I hadn’t been allowed to open yet.
It was becoming a serious problem. Plus, Sergio noticed the ring too. Of course he did. His gaze dropped briefly to Chiara’s hand before flicking toward me with immediate amusement.
“Well,” he drawled lazily, “would you look at that.”
Chiara frowned. “What?”
“You’re wearing boss’ engagement ring,” he drawled. “For someone who claims to hate all this as much as you do, it’s a bit unusual, don’t you think?”
Her hand curled inward protectively, like she realized what he meant. Interesting.
Sergio smirked into his coffee. “I honestly thought you would’ve thrown it at his head by now.”
A faint blush crept into her cheeks. “I just forgot to take it off.”
I didn’t believe her for a fucking second. And judging by Sergio’s expression, neither did he.
“Mm,” he hummed. “Sure.”
