I've never been one to show fear, hell feel fear, but I hate to admit I'm fucking scared.
Enzo's standing beside me and his body is all tense and there's nothing I want to do more than reach up and run my finger down the pulse point at the side of his neck. I can almost see it beating with the pounding of his heart even though I'm not touching him.
I tried most of the night trying to prove to Enzo—hell, even to myself—that there is nothing I want more in this world than him. But the fear is still there. In his breathing. In the way his hands are clenched so tight his knuckles are turning white. Even in his stand. He is afraid.
I want to grab his hand. I want to anchor myself to something solid because I'm coming undone and I can feel it happening and I can't stop it.
But if he feels for one moment the shaking that's going through my body right now, I know he would turn us both around and say the hell with this. I know he'd choose protecting me over protecting us.
So I don't reach for him.
The elevator doors open and we step out into the hallway greeted with nothing but silence. There is no one here but us. Us versus them. Even though we both fear and respect our fathers there will be no one—and I mean no one—who gets in between us. Our minds are made up. We didn't come here to negotiate. We came here to tell them what's happening whether they like it or not.
We walk toward the meeting room and push through the doors.
My father is standing by the window. Alessandro Moretti stands beside him. They're standing together in a way that doesn't make sense to me.
Dominic is leaning against the far wall.
Anya is standing near the door and when she looks at me she smiles this sharp knowing smile that tells me we have an ally.
My father finally turns from the window.
"Good. You arrived. Take a seat," he says flatly.
Enzo steps forward anyway, ignoring the command.
"If you called us here to tell us to end this," he says flatly, "then you're wasting your time. I'm not sitting through some negotiation where you try to convince us that love is a luxury we can't afford. I'm not choosing between him and anything else. So if that's what this is, we're done."
His voice is steady and hard and there's no room for argument in it.
"Same," I say and I'm looking directly at my father. "I didn't come here to apologize for my decision or listen to all the fucked up reasons you two have came up with why this can't happen. It's happening so if this is what this meeting is about today then we're leaving."
I didn't wait for a response because deep down I already knew where this was going. I reached for Enzo's hand and we turned and headed for the door.
"STOP."
The word cracks through the air like a whip and it's Sergei's voice and the command in it is so absolute that both Enzo and I freeze. It's the voice he uses when he's making decisions that destroy people. It's the voice of a man who doesn't ask twice.
We turn back.
My father is standing perfectly still and his eyes are blazing.
"If you walk out of here today without listening to us," Sergei says flatly, "that would be a huge mistake. And as you know, I never make mistakes."
Alessandro steps forward and places a firm hand on Sergei's shoulder. It's a gesture to stop him. To pull back. To keep him from pushing the boys any further away. It's the first time I've ever seen these two men interact and the sight of Alessandro's hand on my father's shoulder—like he's holding him back—tells me everything I need to know. They've already talked. They've already made a decision. And Alessandro doesn't want Sergei to destroy this before it even starts.
Alessandro unbuttons his suit jacket as he moves toward the table, making himself comfortable as he sits down. He looks up and waves a hand toward the seats in front of him. "Please. Take a seat," he says and it's not a demand. "I agree with your father. If you leave here today without listening to what we have to say, you will regret it."
I look at Enzo and he gives me a small nod. His hand finds mine and he squeezes it so hard I feel my pulse jump under his grip. Then he lets go and his palm presses firmly against the middle of my back, guiding me toward the seats. It's possessive. It's a promise. It's him saying without words that no matter what happens in this room, I'm not alone.
We sit down across from them.
Sergei eyed us, never once breaking eye contact. He cleared his throat.
"I think we need to start off first with an apology," he says flatly.
Alessandro leans forward slightly.
"I gave you an ultimatum," Alessandro says, looking directly at Enzo. "Twenty-four hours to choose between your family and him. That was wrong."
He pauses and I can see the weight of what he's about to say pressing down on him.
"I gave your brother the same choice," Alessandro continues, his voice rough. "And it destroyed him. It destroyed us. To be honest I felt like this was a repeat and once again I was making a huge mistake and I had to stop and ask myself what the fuck was I doing."
He pauses and I can see him struggle with the next part.
"I admit I was stubborn back then and even more stubborn now," Alessandro says. "I was raised in the old ways. Our fathers' words were law no matter the outcome. And dammit I hated the outcome that came from that the first time. So there will not be a repeat."
Enzo's entire body goes rigid beside me.
He looks at Enzo and there's something final in his expression.
"I already know who and what you will say," Alessandro says flatly. "So there is no need to put you through that."
Sergei turns to face me then.
"My turn," my father says, and his voice carries the weight of someone who's been having this sitting heavy on his mind for years.
He looks directly at me and I can see something in his expression that I've never seen before.
"I spent years trying to make you invisible," Sergei says flatly. "Cold. Hard. Controlled. I told myself it was protection. That if you were closed off, if you didn't draw attention to yourself, if you stayed small and manageable, then you'd survive in this world."
He pauses and his hands clench on top of the table.
"But what I was really doing was breaking you down preemptively," Sergei continues. "I was so terrified of watching you become like the sons I've buried. Sons of my soldiers. Sons of my friends. I watched them get into things they couldn't control, get noticed by the wrong people, draw attention to themselves and end up in the ground."
His jaw tightens.
"So I decided you wouldn't be like that. I decided you'd be cold. Hard. But not heartless. Not dead inside. I wanted you strong enough to survive but closed off enough that nobody would see you as a target."
He leans back slightly.
"I had a conversation with your aunt," Sergei says. "She made me understand what I've actually been doing to you all these years. I was dimming your light, smothering your fire. She made it clear that I wasn't protecting you—I was protecting myself by suffocating you in the process."
His eyes lock on mine.
"You don't know how it felt the moment you stood up for yourself and put you first for the first time in your life," Sergei says, and his voice is different now. Rougher. "You chose yourself and not what I wanted and I was damn proud. And Enzo was the person that brought that change. So how could I stop what is happening between you two? You chose him and he chose you and he is the reason you decided to be alive instead of just existing."
He leans forward slightly.
"And that is what made me realize I spent all those years trying to prevent exactly the thing that proves you're the strongest."
Enzo leans back slightly and there's something shifting in his expression. Like he's processing everything but not quite believing it yet.
"So what does it all mean?" Enzo asks flatly.
I look at him and then back at my father.
"So this means we can be together?" I ask, and there's hope in my voice that I'm trying hard to keep controlled. "There's no ultimatum? No choosing between you and him?"
Alessandro and Sergei exchange a look.
"Yes," Sergei says flatly. "But on terms."
I frown. "Terms? What kind of terms?"
Sergei leans forward and his expression is calculating now.
"Yes, terms," he says flatly. "You both know that you are heirs to two powerful families. You both have duties to fulfill. And not only that, in the end two families will end up being one because we know you are not doing this just because. Am I right?"
He pauses, letting the weight of that sink in.
"So yes, there will be terms," Sergei continues. "Each of you will father at least one son to ensure both bloodlines continue. If your first child is a son, you've fulfilled the obligation. If you want daughters after that, adoption or surrogacy is acceptable. But the Moretti line and the Aslanov line both continue, or you walk away from the inheritance entirely."
Enzo's jaw tightens.
"What you mean after that if we want another one," Enzo says flatly. "So surrogacy is off the table for the first child? I'm telling you right now I'm not sleeping with anyone else. Noah is it for me."
Sergei doesn't flinch.
"No surrogacy can be used for all your children," Sergei says. "What's coming from our blood is what we mean. And adoption for any others. Just as long as both bloodlines are protected and able to carry on, we are good."
Enzo nods slowly like he's processing that.
I look at Enzo and the weight of what we're about to commit to settles on me.
"Are you fine with this?" I ask quietly. "Only if you are."
Before Enzo can answer, Alessandro leans forward.
"You can take your time and think on this," Alessandro says, and his voice is different now. Softer but still commanding. "We understand that would be a big step for you two. But we also want you to know that you will not do this alone. We may not have been the best of fathers, but we will do everything in our power for you and our future grandchildren. You will not do this alone."
I look between both my father and Alessandro.
"Okay, is that the only term?" I ask. "Is there anything else you want to ask of us?"
Sergei nods slightly.
"That is the only term we ask of you," Sergei says flatly. "But we have to get to the risky part of things concerning you two being together."
"What's that?" I ask.
Alessandro leans back in his chair.
"Not everyone will be happy about the fact that you two are gay and in line to head our families," Alessandro says, his voice hard. "Some things will have to be dealt with before you finish school."
Enzo leans forward, his body tense.
"Things like what?" Enzo asks flatly.
"Opposition. People who won't accept this," Alessandro says. "But also—"
"And also I don't give a damn what anyone else says about me as long as they fall in line," Enzo cuts in, his voice cold and certain.
Alessandro smiles, shaking his head. There's a look in his eyes that I recognize immediately. Pride. He loves seeing this side of Enzo. The hard, unapologetic part of him that refuses to bend.
"Don't worry son," Alessandro says. "We will handle all of that. It'll be some time before you two take the rings. You will have until then to enjoy each other before our grandchildren start to come into the picture."
He smirks.
Enzo rolls his eyes.
"Old man, don't get too happy over there," Enzo says flatly. "Children will come in time. We're still young."
I laugh. It's the first time in days—since I found out our fathers knew about our relationship—that I actually laugh. And the moment I do, I feel my body start to ease. The tension I've been carrying since we walked into this room begins to dissolve.
"So tell me," I say, my voice lighter now. "What do you have in mind with the members that will not agree? This thing is out already on line. I'm not stupid. I know there will be a fallout behind this."
Sergei leans back slightly.
"You let us deal with that," Sergei says flatly.
Alessandro nods in agreement.
"And you deal with the problem that's going on with your sister," Alessandro says, and his expression changes. Something darker crosses his face. "Care to fill us in on that?"
I feel Enzo tense beside me and I already know what he wants. Blood. Death. Declan erased completely if given the chance.
But I have the Forge.
I sit with that thought and I wonder what these men will think about my plan. Will they think it's not cruel enough? Will they think we're being too easy on him? The Forge has rules. There are boundaries. You can't kill each other on that island—that's the law.
And I know if it was left up to Enzo, if there were no rules to stop him, Declan would already be dead.
I wonder if our fathers will see my plan as weakness. If they'll expect something more brutal, more final, more mafia. Or if they'll understand that there's a different kind of power in making someone suffer publicly. In making them understand exactly what they've done and why it matters.
In making them watch everyone turn their back.
I feel Enzo's hand find mine under the table and squeeze, and I realize he's waiting for me to speak. Waiting to see what I'm going to tell these men about how we handle our own business.