Rivals and Allies
Aria's POV
The wine glass shattered against the wall inches from my head.
"You disrespectful little girl!" Antonio Moretti screamed, his face swollen with rage. "I've been in this business since before you were born!"
I didn't flinch, even though my heart was racing. We were in the back room of Moretti's restaurant, apparently having a peaceful dinner to discuss territory agreements. Instead, the seventy-year-old don was throwing things at me.
"Calm down, Antonio," Isabella Marchetti said from her place across the table. "Violence during negotiations is so... uncivilized."
But her dark eyes were amused. She was liking this.
"She wants to change everything!" Moretti continued, pointing a shaking finger at me. "Protection, gambling, police - all of it! These are customs that go back generations!"
"Traditions that aren't working anymore," I replied, wiping wine drops from my face.
"Not working?" Moretti laughed bitterly. "I've made millions using the old ways!"
"And how much have you lost to police raids, rival takeovers, and public investigations?" I asked.
His face got even redder. Behind me, I felt Marco tense, ready to protect me if the old man tried anything else.
"The girl has a point, Antonio," Isabella said, studying her perfectly groomed nails. "Your operations have been... messy lately."
"Don't you start, Isabella. Your Chicago family isn't exactly clean."
Isabella's smile turned sharp. "No, but we're profitable. And we adapt."
This dinner was supposed to be my chance to build alliances with two of the most powerful crime families outside my area. Instead, it felt like going through a minefield.
"Let me be clear," I said, standing up. "I'm not asking for your approval to change how I run my family. I'm offering to work together in ways that help everyone."
"Work together?" Moretti spat. "You mean work for you. I know what you're really after."
"What am I after?"
"Control. You want to be the queen of all crime families, just like your grandfather Vincent."
"Vincent is dead because he made too many enemies. I'm trying to make friends instead."
"Pretty words," Isabella said. "But words don't stop bullets."
She was testing me, seeing how I'd respond to pressure. Everything in this business was a test.
"You're right," I agreed. "guns stop guns. Which is why I brought insurance."
I nodded to Kai, who put a manila folder on the table.
"What's this?" Moretti asked suspiciously.
"Information about the FBI task force investigating both your families," I said calmly.
Isabella's smile disappeared. Moretti went pale.
"How did you get this?" Isabella demanded.
"I have good sources. The raids are planned for next week. Unless, of course, the FBI gets sidetracked by bigger problems."
"You're threatening us?" Moretti's voice was quiet now, which was more dangerous than his screaming.
"I'm offering to help. My sources can feed fake information to the FBI, send them chasing ghosts while your real operations stay safe."
Isabella opened the folder and read quickly. Her eyebrows went up.
"This is very detailed," she said.
"Very real," I confirmed. "The question is whether you want my help or not."
Moretti was still looking at me like I'd grown a second head. "Why would you help us?"
"Because war is expensive. Peace is profitable."
"And what do you want in return?"
"Respect for my territory limits. No interference with my business changes. And cooperation when we have mutual goals."
Isabella closed the box. "What kind of cooperation?"
"Joint efforts against families that threaten all of us. Shared information. Coordinated reactions to law enforcement."
"You want to form an alliance," Isabella said.
"I want to form a relationship. Equals working together, not one family leading the others."
Moretti laughed loudly. "Equals? You're twenty-three years old with one week of experience."
"And in that week, I've killed Vincent Torrino, survived multiple assassination attempts, and gotten FBI intelligence that could save both your operations."
The room went quiet. Even Isabella looked impressed.
"The girl's got steel," she admitted.
"The girl's got luck," Moretti amended. "Luck runs out."
"So does stubbornness," I responded. "The world is changing, Mr. Moretti. We can change with it or get left behind."
Before Moretti could answer, the restaurant's lights went out.
Emergency lights kicked in, bathing everything in red. Through the windows, I could see black SUVs circling the building.
"FBI!" a voice yelled through a megaphone. "This is a raid! Everyone remain calm!"
Isabella swore in what sounded like Italian. Moretti was already moving toward a secret door behind the bar.
"How did they find us?" he asked.
My blood turned cold as I realized what had happened. "Someone told them we were meeting."
"Who?" Isabella asked, pulling out her phone.
"Someone who wanted to test whether I'd really protect you," I said, the pieces clicking together. "This whole dinner was a setup."
Marco grabbed my arm. "We need to move. Now."
But as we headed for the back exit, Isabella called out.
"Aria. The FBI information in that box - was it real?"
I turned back. "Every word."
"Then this raid proves you were right about having good sources."
She was right. Someone had warned me about the raids, then planned this dinner knowing the FBI would come. They wanted to see if I'd really help my possible allies or leave them to get arrested.
"There's another exit through the kitchen," Moretti said grudgingly. "Follow me."
As we crept through the restaurant's back areas, avoiding the federal officers, Isabella moved up beside me.
"That was well played," she said softly. "You turned a threat into an opportunity."
"I had good teachers."
"Yes, but you're learning to think for yourself. That's dangerous."
"Dangerous how?"
"Dangerous for everyone who underestimates you."
We made it out through a service tunnel that linked to the building next door. As we caught our breath in an alley, Moretti shocked me.
"Your partnership idea," he said. "I want to hear more."
"Really?"
"You saved my job tonight. Maybe you're not as innocent as I thought."
Isabella smiled. "Welcome to the big leagues, Torrino."
But as we split up to go our different ways, my phone buzzed with another message.
"Congratulations on passing tonight's test. But the real battle starts now. Check tomorrow's papers. Front page. You're going to need new friends very soon. - A Friend "
I showed the message to my team.
"What do you think it means?" Marco asked.
"I think," I said slowly, "someone's about to make our private business very public."
The next morning, I woke up to Luca shaking my shoulder anxiously.
"Aria, you need to see this."
He gave me a newspaper. The title made my stomach drop: "CRIME PRINCESS: 23-Year-Old Takes Over Major Mafia Family "
Below it was my picture from the Commission meeting, along with shots of Marco, Luca, Dmitri, and Kai.
"How did they get these photos?" I whispered.
"That's not the worst part," Luca said grimly. "Keep reading."
The article outlined everything - Vincent's death, my inheritance, even the new alliance structure. But the closing paragraph made my blood freeze:
"Sources close to the investigation say that Miss Torrino's rise to power may have been orchestrated by a federal informant working inside the crime families. The FBI is likely to make arrests within 48 hours."
Someone was painting me as a government rat. In the mob world, that was a death sentence.
My phone started ringing. Isabella's name showed on the screen.
"You better have a very good explanation for this," she said the moment I replied.