Page 53 of His Forced Irish Mafia Bride

“I’m not joining hands with other families,” I said coldly.

But she didn’t stop. “That’s pride talking,” she said. “Anton doesn’t care about your control. He’s building past it.”

I shifted my weight slightly, jaw tightening. “I can handle him,” I said.

Gabrielle’s eyes stayed on me. “That’s what you always say.”

I didn’t answer because arguing would mean I was considering her suggestion.

Maeve’s presence sat at the edge of my focus again, uninvited and persistent. I pushed it down. Gabrielle noticed the silence. Then she changed direction again, softer this time, almost casual.

“You should be careful with her,” she said.

That got my attention. “I’m not discussing Maeve with you.”

Her expression didn’t change. “I’m not asking,” she replied. “I’m telling you what I see.”

I didn’t respond. Because if I did, this would turn into something else entirely.

And I didn’t want that. Gabrielle let the silence sit for a moment, then used it.

“You’re not refusing help because it’s risky,” she said. “You’re refusing it because you don’t trust anyone outside your own structure.” I didn’t respond, and she took that as permission to continue. “You still think the Japanese brothers were a clean partnership?” she asked. That landed differently, but I didn’t show it.

She tilted her head slightly. “They weren’t. You know they weren’t. They were leaking from the start. You just chose to believe your control would hold them in line.”

I remembered that deal, and I remembered how it had ended. Not clean. Not contained.

Gabrielle kept going. “And the Norwegians,” she added. “You called that one stable, too.”

A pause.

“It wasn’t stable,” she said. “It was predictable. There’s a difference.”

I exhaled once through my nose. She wasn’t wrong, but she also wasn’t neutral.

“You’re listing my failures,” I said.

“I’m listing patterns,” she replied. Then she stepped closer to the edge of the desk, her voice lowering slightly. “You don’t learn from alliances that hold,” she said. “You only remember the ones that break.”

My jaw tightened, but she didn’t stop. “And Romario…” she said.

That one hit harder than the others. I didn’t move.

She watched me carefully now. “That deal didn’t fail because of external pressure,” she said. “It failed because you were exposed.”

The memory wasn’t something I invited back—the meeting, the shift in tone, the moment everything turned too fast to correct, the first shot.

I pushed it back down. But Gabrielle saw enough.

“You survived it,” she said. “But you changed afterward.”

I kept my voice even. “I adapted.”

“No,” she said. “You isolated yourself.” Silence returned again, heavier now. She straightened slightly. “You’re doing it again,” she said. “Even with Anton moving like he is. Except this time you’re not just isolating yourself from potential allies. You’re isolating yourself from being able to win this.”

I narrowed my eyes slightly. “That’s not accurate.”

“It is,” she said. “Because Anton isn’t operating like your past enemies. He’s building something that requires coordination beyond your reach alone.”