8. Carlito

Chapter 8

Carlito

The boardroom in the Venetian is all polished wood and sleek glass, its opulence a reflection of the stakes at hand. Evening casts a golden glow through the floor-to-ceiling windows, highlighting the weight of the discussion.

Bianca sits across the table, her posture relaxed but her sharp gaze betraying her intent. She’s observant, always has been. Mia sits to my left, her notebook open and pen in hand, as though bracing for another barrage of questions.

“Alright,” Bianca begins, her tone deceptively light. “Let’s talk about why I need to be involved in this gala in the first place.”

“You represent the personal side of the Marcelli image,” I reply, keeping my voice measured. “It’s good for optics. The public sees a strong, successful family. It’s... persuasive.”

Bianca narrows her eyes at me, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Persuasive, huh? And what about Mia? She’s the one pulling this whole thing together. Seems to me you’re already covered on the professional front.”

Mia glances at me, startled by the unexpected compliment. Her cheeks flush a delicate pink as she quickly looks back down at her notes.

“She’s done exceptional work so far,” I admit, my tone neutral despite the tug of warmth that Mia’s reaction stirs in me. “But this isn’t just about the logistics of the event. It’s about perception.”

Bianca crosses her arms, leaning back in her chair. “Perception is great, but I can’t help but notice how much you’re relying on her.”

Her statement hangs in the air, weighted with implications. My jaw tightens, but before I can respond, Mia speaks up, her voice steady despite the tension.

“I appreciate the trust, Bianca,” Mia says, her tone polite but firm. “But this is a team effort. Your presence adds a personal touch that no amount of planning can replicate.”

Bianca raises a brow, clearly impressed by Mia’s poise. “Nice deflection,” she says with a grin. “You’re good at this.”

Mia offers a small smile, but her fingers grip her pen just a bit tighter.

“Good enough to deserve a little credit,” Bianca adds, her gaze shifting to me. “Don’t you think, Dad?”

Her words are pointed, deliberate. I meet her gaze evenly, knowing full well what she’s implying. “I’ve given her credit where it’s due,” I reply. “This isn’t about playing favorites. It’s about results.”

Bianca smirks, leaning forward. “Results. Right. Just don’t let your... personal feelings get in the way of business.”

Her words hit their mark. Mia’s blush deepens, and for once, I find myself at a loss for a response.

Instead, I lean back in my chair, exuding calm control even as her observation sharpens my focus.

“This isn’t personal,” I say at last, my voice even. “It’s practical. You’re a part of this family, and that makes you an asset.”

Bianca’s smirk falters for a moment, but she recovers quickly, her gaze darting to Mia. “I’m an asset, huh? And what about my dear Mia over here? I think she’s proving to be more than just a contractor to you.”

Mia’s eyes widen slightly, and her hand freezes mid-note. “I’m here to do my job,” she says, her voice steady despite the tension. “And I appreciate the opportunity to work on something this important.”

Bianca studies her for a moment, then nods. “Deflecting again, Mia. I like that.”

“Enough,” I cut in, my tone firm but not harsh. “Bianca, your role is critical. This event is as much about legacy as it is business. Your involvement strengthens the message we’re sending.”

Bianca sits back, her expression softening slightly. “Legacy,” she echoes, her voice quieter now. “That’s a heavy word, Dad.”

I glance at her, noting the flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. “It is,” I admit. “But you’re strong enough to carry it.”

She doesn’t respond immediately, her gaze shifting to Mia. “Well, if I’m carrying legacy, I’m glad I have my best friend here to keep me grounded. This thing’s going to be huge.”

Mia smiles, the tension easing slightly. “That’s what I’m here for. To make sure everything runs smoothly.”

Bianca exhales sharply, shaking her head. “I don’t know how you do it, Mia. Balancing all this pressure and my father’s... demands.”

Mia glances at me briefly, her cheeks warming. “It helps when the stakes are clear. This event matters, and that keeps me focused.”

Bianca gives her a knowing look. “Focused, huh? You’ve got nerves of steel, I’ll give you that. But don’t let him intimidate you too much. He might be a perfectionist, but deep down, he’s all bark and no bite.”

“Bianca,” I warn, my tone low.

She holds up her hands in mock surrender, grinning. “Relax, Dad. I’m just saying. She’s already got you wrapped around her finger, whether you realize it or not.”

Mia’s blush deepens, and she looks away, pretending to jot something down in her notebook.

“See? Even she knows it.”

Mia clears her throat, her voice steady despite the flush in her cheeks. “I think we’ve covered everything we need for today. Bianca’s role is clear, and I’ll ensure the details reflect her importance to the gala.”

Bianca smirks knowingly. “Fine. I’ll play along. But don’t expect me to act like some perfect debutante.”

“I’d never ask that of you,” I interject, my tone firmer than intended. “Be yourself, but remember this event reflects the family. Every move matters.”

Bianca gives a small salute. “Yes, sir. Anything else, or am I free to escape now?”

I nod toward the door. “We’re done here.”

Bianca stands, stretching dramatically. Before leaving, she throws a parting glance at Mia. “Good luck with him. You’ll need it.”

The door closes with a soft click, leaving an electric silence between us. Mia busies herself with her notebook, avoiding my gaze. Her movements are precise, but there’s an edge of tension I don’t miss.

“You handled that well,” I say, breaking the quiet.

Her head snaps up, and for a second, something flickers in her eyes—an echo of the intimacy we shared. “Bianca’s protective of you,” she says, deflecting.

“She’s perceptive,” I reply evenly, stepping closer. The way Mia’s fingers tighten around her pen doesn’t escape me.

“I noticed,” she murmurs, dropping her gaze back to the papers in front of her. “But it’s good to see how much she cares about the gala.”

“You’ve earned her respect.” I pause, searching her expression for any sign of acknowledgment of our shared night. “And mine.”

Her cheeks color faintly, but she keeps her focus on her notes. “Thank you, Carlito. That means a lot.”

The use of my first name, deliberate or accidental, sharpens the air between us. For a moment, I think she might say more, but instead, she slips her notebook into her bag and straightens.

“I’ll finalize the details and have them ready for review by tomorrow,” she says, her tone clipped.

I step closer, the space between us charged. “Mia.”

Her breath catches, but she forces herself to meet my gaze. “Yes?”

“There’s something we haven’t addressed,” I say, my voice lower now.

Her lips part, and for a brief second, vulnerability flashes across her face. “If you’re referring to—”

“I’m not.” I cut her off, the words harsher than I intend. Her shoulders stiffen, and I hate the way her guard snaps back into place. “I’m referring to the gala. Security needs to be a priority.”

Relief and something akin to disappointment flicker in her eyes. “Of course. I’ll coordinate with your team.”

“Good.” I step back, giving her space.

She nods, her professionalism firmly in place once again. “Well, if there’s nothing else, I should get started on the updates.”

“Mia,” I say again, softer this time.

She pauses at the door, her hand on the knob, waiting.

“Thank you,” I say, the words coming out rougher than intended. “For everything.”

Her gaze softens, and a faint smile tugs at her lips. “You’re welcome, Carlito.”

She slips out the door, leaving me alone in the stillness of the room. I stare after her, the weight of unspoken words pressing heavily on my chest.

This tension between us is becoming harder to ignore.

---

Minutes after Mia leaves, the quiet of the boardroom is interrupted by Leo stepping in, his expression unreadable as always. He shuts the door softly behind him, the faint click grounding me back into reality.

“There’s something you need to see,” Leo says, sliding a tablet across the polished surface of the table. On the screen is a grainy still from security footage—a man, nondescript except for the way he carries himself. Confident, too confident for someone who should be invisible.

“Who is he?” I ask, my tone sharp as I study the image.

“Not sure yet,” Leo replies. “But he’s been spotted hanging around a few of our vendors’ locations. Could be a scout, could be someone testing the waters.”

“Or it could be worse,” I murmur, the implications settling heavily in my chest.

Leo nods, his voice steady. “I’ll dig deeper. But whoever he is, he’s playing close to our orbit. That makes him a problem.”

I lean back in my chair, my gaze fixed on the screen. “Make sure the problem doesn’t become a threat. I want his movements tracked and everything about him uncovered.”

Leo smirks faintly. “Already on it.”

As he leaves the room, my focus shifts back to the image on the tablet. The man is a stranger to me, but the way he carries himself is all too familiar of a Mafia type. He moves like someone with a purpose. Someone who doesn’t plan to leave quietly.

The gala is fast approaching, and with it comes an audience strangers I cannot control.

I set the tablet aside, my thoughts circling back to Mia. She has no idea what kind of life I lead and what kind of world she’s about to be dragged into.

If this stranger is a sign of what’s to come, the path ahead is going to be a whole lot more interesting.

Tomorrow, Mia will face her own challenges, though she has no idea how dangerous they might turn out to be.