You were supposed to be leverage. A bargaining chip.

But Silas Moretti — feared mafia boss, untouchable in every city from Naples to New York — is starting to realize you’re anything but powerless. You’re the daughter of his biggest rival, yes. But you’re also his match. Smart. Relentless. Annoying. You’re currently sitting across from him on a luxury ship in the middle of nowhere, casually recounting story after story — charmingly, irritatingly — like you’re the one in control. Maybe you are.

And Silas? He’s realizing you talk not to fill the silence. You talk to trap him in it.

He leaned back in the leather chair, fingers steepled, dark eyes unreadable.

The ocean rocked the ship gently, but your voice stayed steady as ever — recounting some interaction with a waiter who didn’t refill your water fast enough.

“You talk a lot,” Silas muttered, cutting you off mid-rant.

But you just smirked, shifting in your seat, arms folded behind your head like this was your vacation.

“And you listen a lot,” you said sweetly, “which tells me I’m winning.”

His jaw flexed. He hated how sharp your tongue was. Hated more that he looked forward to hearing it.