Chapter Twenty-seven – Protective Detail

Chapter Twenty-seven – Protective Detail
BLAINE

Val didn’t laugh this time. She knew I wasn’t exaggerating. The title of principessa didn’t just mean diamond rings. It meant power. And power always came with predators. Everyone wanted a piece of that throne—especially if they thought it was empty.
“Isn’t it counterproductive to add more detail to her entourage?” Gabe asked reasonably, his tone as steady as ever. “Shouldn’t Val and Isabella be enough?”
“Theoretically, yes,” I said with a slow nod. “But I have no illusions. Her status will come out sooner or later, whether we want it to or not. When it does, I want her untouchable. Not just to outsiders. To everyone. Inside and out.”
They both nodded, already understanding the full weight of what I was implying.
“Most of the girls I’d trust are already too busy playing their own political games or too obsessed with your name,” Val said, with brutal honesty. “But…”
I waited. She was never dramatic without a reason.
“Sofia,” she said finally. “She’s a little younger, but fiercely loyal. You already know she’s practically obsessed with Malia—like, adoration-level loyal. And she doesn’t give a shit about status. She won’t get tempted.”
I nodded. “And the second?”
Val’s smirk returned like a blade unsheathing. “Marco.”
I huffed a breath of amusement. “You’re serious?”
“Dead,” she replied. “He’s gay, and he’s known Sofia since they were in diapers. They’re a package deal. You assign one, you get both. And he’d slit a throat without hesitation if anyone touched her. He takes his work seriously, but protecting his people? That’s sacred to him.”
Perfect. Too perfect, really.
I turned to my desk and pulled open the bottom drawer, extracting two slim folders from the contingency stack I kept for cases like this. Of course, I already had profiles on them. I didn’t do anything without preparing backup plans six moves in advance.
“They’ll be assigned as protective detail. Casual. Friends only. Nothing official,” I said, placing the folders on the desk for Gabe to review.
Both nodded in unison, and I knew them well enough to catch the glimmer of pride behind their expressions. Another Moretti positioned close to the throne. Another piece falling into place.
“Anything else I should consider?” I asked.
“Yes,” Gabe said, leaning forward. “You’re going to need more NDAs.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“There’s a high chance her friends will start figuring things out, even if she’s trying to keep it quiet. When that happens, they’ll need to sign nondisclosures to cover us legally.”
Right. There was only so much pretending we could get away with before the cracks started to show.
“Why are we doing this again?” Val asked, clearly bored by the red tape, her voice flat with faux innocence.
Gabe sighed and touched his forehead, already exasperated. “Because we don’t kill without cause, Valentina. We’re not savages.”
“Potato, potahto,” she muttered with a shrug.
“Gabe, draft something airtight,” I said, brushing past her sarcasm. “Val, you’ll brief Sofia and Marco personally. Make sure they understand the stakes.”
“Of course.” She checked her watch, then pushed off the desk. “But I should probably vanish before your princess sees me here and starts thinking you’re handing out golden tickets to her private kingdom.”
As if the universe had a sick sense of humor, a knock echoed through the study, followed almost immediately by the soft creak of the door being nudged open.
Val froze.
I shot to my feet.
Shit.
Malia peeked her head in, her eyes widening with surprise the second she spotted Val.
“Val?” she asked, stunned.
Her gaze flicked from her friend to me and back again. A wave of confusion passed over her face, followed by caution. “What… what are you doing here?”
I stepped around the desk just as Val, cool as ever, slipped into the hallway to meet her.
Malia stood barefoot, dressed in a black oversized sweater that made her look smaller than usual, her hair half up, her expression written in open disbelief.
“I—” Val started, hesitating for just a beat. “Uh…”
My jaw tightened. It was too late to lie, too early to come up with something believable.
But then again… sometimes I forgot that Valentina Moretti was damn near brilliant when she needed to be.
She gave the smallest smile and said, “I’ve been messaging Isabella nonstop. She told us you were fine on Friday, but refused to tell us anything else. I said I wasn’t going to shut up until someone gave me answers. So Marcello—your charming stand-in boyfriend—ordered me to come here. He made me sign a nondisclosure first, but now… I know everything.”
I blinked once.
Smooth. Risky. But smooth.
Malia’s eyes widened. “You… you know?”
Val nodded, tone calm now. “Yeah. The engagement. The Mafia stuff. The protection. All of it.”
I stepped in with folded arms and kept my voice steady. “She kept pressing. So I gave in—for your sake.”
Malia looked between us, blinking rapidly like she was still trying to process the absurdity of it all. And then something changed.
Her face cracked—not with fear or suspicion.
But with relief.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
She moved fast, darting past Val—and straight into my chest.
I barely caught myself in time.
Her arms wrapped around me with a force that stole the breath from my lungs. It wasn’t just a hug. It was desperate. Fierce. Real.
And I didn’t know what to do with it.
I froze for a second before my hands found her back—not pulling her closer, not forcing the moment—just steadying her. Holding her without question.
Her warmth. Her scent. The feel of her against me.
It crawled under my skin, slow and dangerous. She was in my arms by her own choice.
She didn’t pull away. Not at first.
Then, barely audible, she whispered, “Thank you, Marcello.”
And with that, she stepped back, her gaze layered with something I couldn’t quite decipher. After the way she had looked at me just a few days ago—in horror and disgust—I would’ve never predicted this.
“Um… I wanted to give you this,” she said, handing over the folder with the documents.
The signed contract.
She grabbed Val’s hand and tugged her down the hallway with new energy. “You’re not leaving until we talk. I have so much to tell you.”
Their footsteps echoed down the corridor, fading fast.
The hallway fell quiet.
I stood there, completely stunned.
“Did you see that?” I murmured, blinking. “She hugged me.”
Gabe raised his eyebrows. I couldn’t tell if he was more shocked by her action—or my reaction to it. “Yes. She did.”
And I was still trying to process the feel of her in my arms.
That soft, stunned warmth.
The way it settled something in me.
And disturbed everything else.
Eventually, I turned back into the study and opened the folder she had handed me. My eyes scanned the signature at the bottom of the contract.
She had signed.
It was official now—her promise inked in black and white.
She was mine.
My bride.