CHAPTER FIFTEEN: my Hope

HOPE

The clinking of silverware and soft classical music filled the extravagant dining hall. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above us like frozen fire. Every table was its own universe of whispered power plays and fake laughter.

I sat beside Ace, trying to blend in. Trying to remember that I was playing a role—a carefully scripted character who didn’t have real feelings for the man beside her. Too bad my body never got the memo.

Dinner had barely started when trouble arrived.

He walked in like he owned the damn floor. Broad shoulders, a scar splitting one brow, and the kind of smirk that promised danger for breakfast and disaster for dessert.

“Ace,” he called out smoothly as he approached our table. “Didn’t think you’d actually bring a date. She’s a knockout.”

Ace’s jaw clenched, but he kept his tone even. “Salvatore. Thought they banned you from anything with table manners.”

“Temporarily,” the man chuckled. “But I clean up well, don’t I?”

His eyes—dark, calculating—landed on me. Too long. Too curious. Too damn bold.

“And who’s this beautiful creature?”

Before I could answer, Ace spoke. “She’s off-limits.”

I felt it—the subtle shift in air. Like we weren’t just talking anymore. Like lines had been drawn.

Salvatore leaned a little closer to me anyway. “That wasn’t what I asked, amore. Just your name.”

I smiled, tight but polite. “Hope.”

“Hope,” he repeated, savoring it. “You don’t look like someone who plays with the wolves. But I suppose even lambs get a taste for blood when they sleep in a den long enough.”

He winked and moved off, leaving behind an aftertaste I wanted to spit out.

“What the hell was that?” I whispered as soon as he was out of earshot.

“Salvatore Rossi,” Ace muttered, taking a sip of wine without looking at me. “Rival family. Obnoxious, powerful, and a pain in my ass since we were teenagers.”

“And he was undressing me with his eyes.”

Ace finally looked at me, his gaze searing. “If he tries again, I’ll take his eyes.”

The heat in his voice wasn’t just anger. It was something deeper. Possessive. Raw. It did things to me I couldn’t even admit to myself.

I toyed with the edge of my napkin. “You’re not reacting like this because I’m your assistant.”

“No,” he said simply. “I’m reacting like this because you’re mine.”

I blinked.

That wasn’t part of the script.

“Yours?”

His jaw ticked, as if he regretted saying it out loud.

But before I could ask what the hell that meant, the event organizer tapped the mic again and the room quieted for speeches as  if they didn't make one before.

The moment was gone.

But the tension wasn’t.

And as I sat there beside Ace, barely hearing a word the speaker said, one thing rang louder than the applause around us:

I was no longer pretending.

And if I wasn’t careful, this war would swallow not just my mission, but my heart.

ACE

The private room away from the main hall was smoke and tension. Crystal glasses clinked lazily, but no one here was truly relaxed. The heads of the five families sat like royalty draped in silk and secrets, waiting for me to speak.

I didn’t waste time.

“The Giordanos sabotaged my last shipment,” I said, cool and firm.

A murmur ran around the table. Enzo Giordano leaned forward, fake surprise painted on his aging face.

“We don’t touch other families’ business, Ace. You know that.”

Bob had already confirmed it. The attack was surgical, timed to the second. They’d known exactly what route to intercept. Only a Giordano insider could’ve pulled it off.

“Don’t lie to me, Enzo,” I said, my voice low and dangerous. “You touched it. And now I’m touching back.”

He smiled like a snake. “And what would you want from us?”

“A replacement,” I said. “Twice the amount you cost me.”

“Or?” he asked, brows raised.

“Or I’ll take it in blood. And you won’t know which of your sons dies first.”

The silence was immediate. And that was how I knew they believed me.

The meeting wrapped with other family saying their pieces and new rules and suggestions approved and disapproved.

My business was done, but my mood didn’t improve until I walked back into the ballroom.

And what I saw set me on fire.

Hope—my Hope—stood near one of the fountains, cheeks flushed with champagne. Salvatore Rossi had her cornered, his hand grazing her hip like he owned her, his mouth dangerously close to hers. She looked tense, not drunk enough to welcome the contact, but too polite—or too careful—to shove him off.

I didn’t think. I moved.

One second, I was pushing through the crowd. The next, my fist connected with Salvatore’s jaw.

The music stopped.

Gasps echoed. Salvatore staggered back with a laugh, rubbing the corner of his mouth where blood now pooled.

“Well, well,” he said, eyes gleaming. “That wasn’t very diplomatic of you, amico. And at a gala too.”

He wasn’t angry. No. He was satisfied.

Like I’d just confirmed something he’d been fishing for all night.

I’d walked into his trap. And I didn’t even care.

I grabbed Hope by the wrist—firm, not harsh—and dragged her out of the ballroom before the wolves could close in again.

She stumbled beside me, still dazed. “Ace—what the hell—”

“Not here.” I said directing her to the car that was already waiting for us.

*********

We didn’t stop until we reached the elevator. The ride up was silent except for her sharp breathing and the war drum in my chest.

She turned to head into her suite, but I pulled her in the opposite direction.

“My room,” I said gruffly, opening the door.

She froze. “Ace—”

“I don’t want to argue.”

I closed the door behind us, locking the world out.

Hope was still stunned. “Why am I in your room?”

I walked past her, pulled off my blazer, and poured a glass of water. I handed it to her without looking.

“Because if you think I’m letting you sleep in a room where Rossi or any other bastard might follow you, you don’t know me at all.”

She took the glass but didn’t drink. “That punch. Was it really about Salvatore? Or about me?”

I didn’t answer.

Because deep down, I wasn’t sure where the line was anymore.

I just knew I didn’t want her anywhere near danger. Or temptation. Or anyone who wasn’t me.

And that terrified me more than anything in that boardroom.