Chapter 46: Proving Them Wrong

IZZY'S POV

By nightfall, I was standing in front of Ricardo’s office. It was on the second floor of a cheap building downtown, the kind of place that tried to look respectable with fake marble tiles but screamed desperation.

Two men stood at the door. They looked me up and down like I was in the wrong place.

“Izzy Romano,” I said firmly. “Your boss is expecting me.”

They hesitated, then stepped aside. One of them opened the door, and I walked in.

Ricardo was behind a desk, smoking a cigar like he thought it made him look powerful. He was heavyset, with slicked-back hair and a gold chain that looked too big for his neck.

His eyes narrowed when he saw me. “You’re not who I was told to expect.”

I sat down across from him without asking. “I’m exactly who you’re supposed to see.”

He smirked. “Really? Vincenzo sends his little girl to do his dirty work now?”

My stomach twisted, but I kept my face calm. “He sent me because I’m the one who’ll decide whether you walk out of this owing us money or owing us blood.”

He leaned back, laughing. “Cute. You’ve got his mouth, I’ll give you that. But you don’t scare me.”

“I don’t need to scare you,” I said evenly. “I just need to remind you of numbers. Two hundred thousand, three months late. That’s not a debt anymore. That’s theft.”

Ricardo waved his cigar. “It’s not theft. Business is slow. My clients..”

“Don’t care,” I cut him off. “Your problems aren’t our problems. You made a deal, and you broke it.”

He frowned. “Your father would’ve understood. He knew how business works.”

“My father isn’t here,” I snapped. “I am. And I don’t have patience for excuses.”

He leaned forward, his face hard. “Listen, little girl. You think you can come in here and tell me how it works? I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been alive. If your father was still running things, he’d know better than to push me like this.”

I met his stare. “If my father was still running things, you’d already be dead.”

Silence. The cigar smoke hung heavy between us.

Finally, he barked out a laugh. “You’ve got guts. I’ll give you that. But guts don’t pay bills. I don’t have the money.”

“Then find it,” I said.

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“It does when you’re dealing with us,” I said firmly. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to pay one hundred thousand within a week. The rest within the next thirty days. Fail, and you’ll lose more than money.”

He shook his head, smiling like I was ridiculous. “And if I refuse?”

I leaned in closer. “Then I make sure every one of your clients knows you can’t keep a deal. You’ll be finished by the end of the month. You’ll be begging for scraps.”

His smile faded. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” I said coldly.

For a long moment, he just stared at me. Then he stubbed out his cigar, his jaw tight. “One week, you said?”

“One week,” I repeated. “Half now, half after. Don’t test me on this, Ricardo. You won’t like the result.”

He didn’t answer right away. Finally, he nodded once. “Fine. One week.”

I stood. “Good choice.”

As I turned to leave, he muttered, “Your father would be proud.”

I stopped, my hand on the door. “No,” I said quietly. “He’d expect better.”

Then I walked out.

Back at the house, the council was waiting for me. Marco looked smug. “So? Did he laugh in your face?”

“No,” I said flatly. “He agreed to pay half in a week, the rest in a month.”

The room went silent.

“You’re lying,” Marco said finally.

“Call him,” I said, crossing my arms. “Ask him yourself.”

Councilman Vance studied me carefully, then nodded slowly. “Impressive.”

Marco scoffed. “She’s bluffing. Leone will never pay.”

“Then you’ll see in a week,” I said.

I turned and walked out before Marco could say another word.

The hallway outside the council chamber felt too bright after that dark room. Voices trailed behind me, murmurs, a few snorts, the scrape of chairs. I heard Marco still talking, loud enough that half the building could hear. “Mark my words. He won’t pay.”

I kept my steps steady and didn’t look back. My jaw ached from clenching it, but I forced my face to stay calm. That was the point. Let them doubt and let them whisper. I wanted them to have the satisfaction of underestimating me. I’d enjoy proving them wrong.

Janet caught up with me at the stairwell. She moved fast, falling into step beside me. “You handled that well,” she said. “Very well.”

“You think?” I asked.

Her eyes were sharp. “I think you played him. You made him think he could get away with something, and then you boxed him in.” She eyed the council room door. “Marco looked like he wanted to spit.”

“Good,” I said. “Let him spit.”

We rode the elevator down in silence. The doors opened and Matteo was waiting by the front hall. He gave me a look, part worry, part pride. Durk was there too, leaning against the wall, arms folded.

“You got it done?” Matteo asked as I stepped off the elevator.

“Yes,” I said. “Half in a week. The rest in thirty days.”

Matteo whistled low. “Lucky he didn’t try to laugh in your face.”

“He tried,” I said. “Then he bluffed.” I glanced at Durk. “Call his number now. If he answers, ask him to confirm the terms. I want no room for them to twist this later.”

Durk pulled his phone out and dialed. I could hear one of Ricardo’s men in the background, a gruff voice that sounded annoyed. Durk handed me the phone.

“Leone,” the man barked when I put it to my ear. “What do you want?”

“Confirm you agreed to pay one hundred thousand in a week and the rest in thirty days,” I said, clear and even.

Silence. Then the man’s voice, softer. “Yes, we agreed. He can’t wait to give you the money.”

I hung up and looked at the three of them. “Good. Send that to the council and put it in writing. I want a record.”

Matteo nodded. “I’ll mail them a copy and keep the original signed agreement.”

Janet gave me a small smile. “You stepped up. That was sharp.”

“We can’t celebrate yet,” Durk said. “He could be trying to stall. Or worse, he could be setting something up.”

“I know,” I said. “That’s why we get the money in one week. No extensions and no excuses.”

Marco’s voice drifted down the hall as we walked away. “You’ll regret this, girl. Mark my words.”

I stopped for a second and turned so he had to see me. My voic

e was quiet but steady. “I’ll remind you of that when your name comes up empty.” Then I kept walking.