Lissy Romano

93| Near my sister.

Vincenzo Romano

I'm furious. What the hell does he think he's doing? The moment Federico walked out of my nightclub, I lost it.

"Levi!" I barked, my voice cutting through the tense silence.

"Yes, boss?" Levi rushed into my office, his eyes sharp with concern.

Levi's one of my most trusted men. He's reliable when it comes to handling situations like this. I need him to figure out what Federico's really after. I can already smell the bullshit.

"When you find out what he's up to, call me immediately," I ordered, my eyes narrowing.

"I will, boss," he responded, nodding quickly before disappearing out the door.

Federico wants to meet Lissy. His claim that it's just because he's her godfather and "family" is complete garbage. He's never been a family man. He has no kids of his own, and I know damn well he's only interested in one thing: his own agenda.

Federico is our father's younger brother, and when I say he's done nothing for us, I mean it. He's always lurked in the shadows, appearing only when it suits him. Now he thinks he has the right to decide what my sister should know about our family? He's out of his mind.

I'm going to protect Lissy from him—there's no question about that. I'm certain my brothers will back me up. They may not know him the way I do, but they know he's a dangerous influence. He's always been a dark presence, and none of us trust him.

That's why we never told Lissy about his existence. But sometimes, things slip through the cracks. And here we are.

I was trying to focus on paperwork when my phone buzzed. A message from Lissy popped up.

Hi, we're doing good. We just got our food. I got French fries and a vegan burger. So excited to try it! The twins are here, right next to me. Love you.

I read the message, and for a moment, my heart melted. She's just too sweet—so innocent, so pure. I smiled, and in that instant, all the anger I felt toward our uncle seemed to vanish.

Okay, eat your food, sweetheart. I'll meet you at home later. I love you more.

Her response was quick, as always. She sent back:

That can't be true. I love you more. ❤️

I chuckled and grabbed my jacket. Slamming my office door behind me, I locked it and headed to my car.

I drove straight to the clinic and walked into the meeting room. Dante was there, sitting at a desk, working on some stuff I'd asked him to check.

"What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at the nightclub today," he said, glancing up at me.

"We need to talk. It's important," I replied, sinking into the king-sized chair across from him.

"I'm listening," Dante said, sensing the gravity of the situation.

I sighed, unsure of how to break it to him. How do I even tell my brothers about Federico? He's been a terrible relative—one of those people who only shows up when he needs something. After Dad died, he pretended we didn't even exist, only appearing to flaunt his so-called success.

He's also the don of a mafia family in Calabria. He's reckless, ruthless, and never thinks about the consequences of his actions. That's the Federico I know.

"Federico's here," I said, keeping my tone calm.

Dante's brow furrowed, and I could see the anger bubbling up inside him. "What does he want?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"He found out about Lissy. He wants to meet her," I said, and Dante's jaw clenched.

"That's not going to happen. He's an aggressive asshole," Dante spat, his anger rising.

I nodded. "I agree. But what can we do? You want me to start a war between two powerful families? Do you want me to kill our uncle?" I threw my hands up in frustration.

"If that's what it takes, yeah. He's not going anywhere near Lissy," Dante snapped.

"Our sister," I reminded him sharply, "And it looks like you've forgotten that she's not speaking to you. You forgot that you acted like an aggressive asshole yourself."

Dante turned away, refusing to meet my gaze. "Don't even start with that. It was a mistake. I was drunk. I didn't mean anything I said. I didn't want to yell at her, but I was worried about Giovanni," he muttered.

"Yeah, keep talking," I said, not hiding the irritation in my voice. "You haven't even apologized to her for your behavior. That's so immature."

He buried his head in his hands. "I wanted to give her space. Don't fucking scold me. I'm not sixteen anymore."

I shook my head, a bitter laugh escaping me. "With your mindset, you're just letting her pull away from you. You're giving her no reason to need you anymore. You have to think about that."

He was quiet for a moment, regret flashing across his face. "What should I do then?" he asked, his voice full of genuine concern.

"You start with an apology," I said firmly. "A real one. Not some half-assed excuse like 'I didn't mean that.' She doesn't care about that. Explain to her why you acted the way you did. Show her you understand what you've done, and for fuck's sake, give her space if she doesn't want to talk to you. Don't press her."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not good at that shit, and you know it. She clearly doesn't want to talk to me, but I can't make it right if she won't let me."

"I know, Dante. But that's the point. You've got to show her you can change, that you're willing to try. She won't forgive you if you don't show her you respect her boundaries."

He sighed heavily, his frustration palpable. "I'm an idiot," he muttered.

"You're not wrong," I said quietly. "But that's not why I wanted to talk to you. We've got bigger problems—Federico. He's her godfather, whether we like it or not."

Dante clenched his fists, clearly furious. "I don't understand why Dad and Mom chose him as her godfather," he grumbled.

"Neither do I," I replied, my voice low. "But he's still family, and that means he has some claim. As her godfather, he has rights. We have to figure out how to handle this."

We sat in silence for a few moments, both of us stewing in our thoughts.

Finally, I leaned back in my chair, exhausted. "I don't fucking know, Dante. I really don't."

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