Chapter 128

Genevieve stood by the window in Matteo’s office, her eyes following the steady stream of men as they filtered down into the club’s lower level. The room was dimly lit, the faint hum of air conditioning blending with the distant murmur of voices below. Thanks to the quick efforts of the club staff she had rallied, the place was finally ready for the evening’s meeting. Although the club itself would remain shuttered until Matteo was released from prison, maintaining the illusion of normalcy was crucial—especially with the formidable crowd she was about to confront.

Earlier that day, she had faced a different kind of challenge at Accardi Industries. Gathering the heads of every department into the conference room, she had done her best to soothe their fears. The accusations against Mr. Accardi were unfounded, she assured them, emphasizing that neither the company nor their jobs were in jeopardy. To ease tensions, she granted paid leave for the remainder of the week to those whose roles were non-essential, while encouraging others to work remotely if possible.

The rest of her day had been consumed by damage control alongside Cindy, the company’s PR specialist. Together, they fielded call after call from racetracks and casinos nationwide—each one recently raided, with customers witnessing the chaos firsthand. The situation was a public relations disaster of epic proportions. As the day wore on, a pang of longing struck her unexpectedly. She found herself missing Bella—the knowledge and calm Bella brought to the company—and briefly considered reaching out to O’Brien to borrow her. But the favors she needed from the Irishman were far weightier, and Bella’s involvement would only complicate matters.

Meanwhile, Alessio and Conor had been working the other side of the Accardi business. They contacted their own network of allies, reaching out to key players essential to their final strategy: O’Brien, the Russo family, and Michele. Matteo had been right—once the handcuffs clicked on his wrists and the FBI descended, Michele would seize the opportunity to make his move. Every time Gen hung up a call with a shaken casino manager, Alessio would report sightings of Michele’s men meeting with Matteo’s crew. Conor’s conversation with O’Brien revealed that Michele had already reached out to the Irishman. Though she wasn’t sure where O’Brien’s loyalties lay, Matteo was confident his bond with the Irish was stronger than with the Galantes. Something about Michele’s kidnapping of Conor’s Irish mother—and her eventual death—had soured that relationship. The details were vague, but enough to convince her the Irish were no fans of the Italian Don.

Despite the countless threads they still had to weave into their complex plan, one fact stood clear: they needed to reassure their own men, to prevent defections or seduction by Michele’s empty promises. That was why Genevieve found herself standing at Matteo’s office window, swallowing down the tight knots of fear that rose in her throat every few moments.

“Don’t be so nervous,” Alessio said, settling onto the worn couch nearby, its leather cracked and faded.

“Easy for you to say,” Gen sighed, her voice heavy with frustration. “All of you were raised to command, to deal with men like this.”