THE ROSSI EMPIRE

CHAPTER 7- THE DEAL

We sent word to Draco before the sun went down.

Marco drafted the message himself, three short lines saying the Rossi family had considered his proposal and was willing to hear him out. Nothing eager, nothing grateful.

I read it twice, nodded, and one of our runners carried the sealed envelope across the city.

The answer came back in less than an hour.

Tomorrow, six in the evening, his warehouse on the eastern docks.

"He picked the place," Dante said when I read it aloud in the hallway. "Of course he picked the place."

"He's the one making the offer," I said. "Let him have the home advantage. It costs us nothing."

Dante didn't argue, but the muscle in his jaw said everything he was choosing not to.

The docks smelled of salt and diesel when we arrived the next evening. I brought Marco, Dante, Elena and four soldiers.

Marcus and Luka stayed behind to hold the mansion, because if this was a trap, I wasn't going to hand Draco the whole family in one car park.

The warehouse was bigger than I expected, a steel cavern lit by hanging lamps, shipping containers stacked three high along the walls. Men stood on the catwalks above us, armed, relaxed, and watching. Nobody pointed a gun at us. Somehow that felt worse.

Lord Draco Draven sat at the far end of a long table with an empty chair waiting across from him, as if he had known the minute when I would walk in.

Silver at his temples, a dark suit that fit too well, hands folded calmly in front of him.

He was the kind of man who never needed to raise his voice, because the room already knew better than to make him.

Behind his chair stood a younger man with the same sharp eyes. His son, Cassian.

He didn't look at Marco, or Dante, or the guards.

He looked at me, steadily, like I was a problem he was already half done solving.

"Valentina Rossi," Draco said, rising just enough to be polite. "You have your father's way of arriving exactly on time. Please, sit. Will you drink something?"

"No, thank you."

"Wise." A faint smile touched his mouth.

"Your cousin is thinking the same thing. It's only tea, Dante. I would not poison anyone in my own warehouse."

Dante's face didn't change. "Then you won't mind if we skip it."

"Not at all."

I sat. Marco took the chair on my right, Dante the one on my left, Elena standing behind me, the soldiers spread along the wall.

Draco poured himself a cup and took his time with it.

"Let's not waste the evening," he said at last. "My letter was an introduction. You came to hear what I want, so I will say it plainly. I have a surplus of weapons that I cannot move through my usual channels this season.

You have territory, discipline, and a need for reinforcement, if the rumors about your recent troubles are true."

"Rumors are often wrong," I said.

"Often," he agreed. "Not always."

I let that pass. "Go on."

"Two shipments.

The first is small, a test, so that neither of us has to trust the other more than we should. You pay in gold on delivery.

If it goes smoothly, the second is larger."

"Your letter said diamonds," Dante said.

"My letter said what I thought would earn your attention." Draco didn't blink. "Diamonds are for people who want to be admired. Gold is for people who want to be paid. I prefer the second kind of business.”

He named a price then, and I braced myself for an insult. It never came. The number was fair. Slightly under what we would have paid elsewhere, if I was honest with myself.

"That's generous," Elena said from behind me, her voice light but her eyes not.

"I don't want a customer, Miss Reyes," Draco said. "I want a partner who comes back."

I felt Dante go still beside me. Nobody had introduced Elena. I filed it away and said nothing.

We negotiated for the better part of an hour.

I pushed on the delivery point and he gave it up almost immediately, agreeing to neutral ground chosen by both sides. I pushed on the timing and he gave that up too.

Every time I leaned, he moved, calmly, without any sign that it cost him anything.

"A moment to confer," I said finally.

"Of course."

We stepped back toward the shadow of a container, out of earshot, the three of us in a tight half circle.

"It's too fair," Dante said at once, low and fast. "The diamonds turned into gold in one breath, he knew Elena's name without being told, and he gave you everything you asked for. Men like him don't give. They invest."

"Fair is what a smart man offers when he wants the second shipment," Marco said evenly. "We're not signing our lives away. It's one small delivery, on neutral ground, and we can walk away if anything smells wrong."

"And if it doesn't smell wrong until it's too late?"

"Then we'll have learned something cheaply," Marco said. "Valentina, this is a good deal. You know it is."

I looked at Dante. His eyes held the same worry they had held in the hallway, the same quiet plea. Then I looked back at the long table, at the silver-haired man pretending to read nothing into our whispering.

"The first shipment only," I said. "Nothing is promised past that.”

Dante exhaled through his nose and said nothing, which from him was its own kind of answer.

We walked back to the table. "We accept," I said. "The first shipment, on the terms we discussed."

Draco stood and extended his hand. His grip was dry and steady, and a fraction longer than it needed to be. "To a long partnership."

"To the first shipment," I corrected.

Something flickered across his face, and I could have sworn he was pleased. As if I had just handed him something instead of taking it away.

The headache started before we reached the car.

It began as a pressure behind my eyes and spread until every sound felt too sharp, the engine, the tires on wet road, the low murmur of Elena's voice from the front seat. I pressed my fingers against my temple and watched the dock lights slide past the window.

"I'll say it once more and then I'll stop," Dante said beside me, quietly enough that the driver couldn't hear. "I hope I'm wrong. I really do."

"I know you do."

"Then be careful. That's all I'm asking."

"I'm always careful."

"No," he said, almost gently. "You're always brave. It's not the same thing."

I didn't have an answer for that, so I looked away. On my other side, Marco's phone buzzed against his leg. He glanced at the screen, turned it face down, and went back to looking out at the road. I didn't think anything of it. It had been a long day for all of us.

By the time we reached the main road, the ache had settled in like it intended to stay. I thought of the mansion, the empty rooms, the portraits of Rossi men watching me from the walls. I thought of the silence waiting for me there.

"Take a left," I told the driver. "Take me to the hospital."

Elena twisted around in her seat. "Are you hurt?"

"No. I just need to see someone."

Her eyebrow lifted, and a small knowing smile began to form.

"Not one word, Elena."

"I didn't say anything."

"You were about to."

Dante looked out his window and said nothing at all.