Caleb’s POV
The morning shadows had barely lifted from my penthouse office when my secure line shattered the silence. I answered to hear Gemma’s weary voice cutting through the encrypted connection.
"The snake himself demands an audience with you."
I knew exactly which venomous bastard she ant. There was no avoiding this confrontation. Gemma patched the call through, and Roman Rossi’s grating voice imdiately assaulted my ears, launching into what he clearly believed was an intimidating power play.
"How dare you humiliate my daughter in front of the other families like that? She ca ho devastated, physically ill from the sha and heartbreak your cruelty caused her. Caleb, you’re about to bind yourself to our bloodline. You need to show my daughter the respect befitting a future Syndicate wife."
"What respect, Roman? The respect owed to a scheming viper who drugged a man at a family gathering to get pregnant and trap him into a political alliance? Because that’s exactly what your precious daughter earned." My blood was already reaching a dangerous boiling point.
"You will not speak about my daughter that way!" Roman’s voice exploded through the encrypted line.
"Are you forgetting who controls the family’s purse strings and territory assignnts?"
"Caleb, you need to sit down with my daughter properly. There’s a Syndicate wedding to orchestrate, and countless family protocols to observe. You’re coming to dinner at our compound tonight."
"Absolutely not. If you want this discussion, we’ll et for lunch at Romano’s." My tone brooked no argunt. "Early afternoon, and we’ll settle everything once and for all."
I imdiately contacted Xavier, who agreed to accompany without hesitation. At the appointed ti, we entered Romano’s to find Roman already positioned at a corner table like so self-appointed capo holding court over his diminished territory.
"What’s that street rat doing here?" Roman’s eyes narrowed with unconcealed hatred as they landed on Xavier.
"You brought your leverage, I brought mine," I replied with a cold smile that promised violence. "If you show Xavier even the slightest disrespect, this negotiation ends before it begins."
Roman grumbled but backed down like the coward he was. A waiter appeared with a bottle of Dom Pérignon, which imdiately ignited my fury. There was absolutely nothing here worth celebrating.
"Remove that. We’re not toasting anything," I told the waiter with deadly calm.
"Nonsense, we’re celebrating your engagent to my daughter and the strengthening of family bonds."
"Like hell we are!" I turned back to the waiter. "Take it away. No alcohol."
The waiter retreated with the champagne. Just as I felt the familiar sensation of manipulation closing around my throat like a garrote, I snapped to full alert.
"Get your hands off ."
Yara stepped back, releasing her grip. Yara had arrived with her mother, both dressed in coordinating designer outfits that made my stomach turn with their obvious calculation. I wanted to disappear through the restaurant floor.
"Sit down! And if either of you even considers insulting Xavier, this entire marriage charade ends right now." I could already read their predatory intentions from their expressions. "So what exactly do you want?"
"Darling, let’s order first and discuss family business afterward," Yara purred with fake sweetness.
"Yara, I’m barely tolerating your family’s presence as it is, so get to the point." I was ready to snap her neck.
"Sweetheart, I’m planning our engagent celebration and the Syndicate announcent..."
"I already told you there won’t be any announcent party!"
"Caleb, she’s my only child, and if she’s marrying into the Thorne bloodline, there absolutely must be a proper family celebration," Roman interjected with calculated pressure.
"Here’s what’s going to happen. We’ll have a private ceremony with complete financial separation and an ironclad prenuptial agreent protecting Thorne assets. I’ve secured an apartnt where we’ll maintain separate territories under one roof." I fixed Roman with a stare that promised retribution. "You and I will simply coexist in this arrangent because of the pregnancy claim."
"But I assud you’d establish residence in the family estate," Yara’s mother finally spoke up with greedy calculation. "That magnificent compound with the fortress-like security. My daughter deserves that level of protection and status."
"Your daughter will never set foot in my family’s stronghold or my private penthouse," I replied to the scheming witch.
"Caleb, Syndicate marriages don’t function that way," Yara protested with rising panic.
"Well, that’s exactly how this arrangent will function," I shot back without compromise.
Suddenly, an escalating wail filled the restaurant, sounding like a child’s tantrum. I turned to see Yara sobbing dramatically with calculated manipulation. Christ, it was absolutely revolting. Every ti she perford this act, I felt both disgusted and genuinely alard by her instability.
"I want a celebration! I want one! Daddyyyy..." she looked at Roman with her mouth hanging open pathetically like a deranged doll.
Xavier discreetly sent an encrypted ssage on my phone:
"Agree to the party and buy yourself ti. Postpone the ceremony for several months using celebration planning as justification. Maybe we can force the DNA test before any binding contracts?"
Xavier had just thrown a crucial lifeline. It was brilliant tactical thinking. I hadn’t realized it, but they’d inadvertently given negotiating leverage and precious ti.
"Fine, I’ll agree to the celebration, but strictly under my terms." The spawn of Satan looked at with so grotesque open-mouthed grin, mascara streaming down her face.
"And what terms are those?" Roman demanded with suspicious calculation.
"The ceremony happens after several months pass. I’ll assign the Syndicate’s event coordinator to organize this circus." I stated with finality.
"Absolutely not, Yara’s pregnancy will be showing by then." The mother from hell complained with obvious alarm.
"As if she wants to hide her supposed condition anyway!" I replied sarcastically. "It’s either this tiline or no celebration whatsoever."
"I accept!" Yara answered before Roman could object, sensing her window of opportunity.
"Excellent! In that case, this eting is concluded. I’ll have our coordinator contact you directly. Ready to leave, Xavier?" I was already standing and adjusting my suit jacket.
"Not so fast, Caleb. We have nurous other family matters to discuss." Roman attempted to reassert his dwindling control.
"I can’t imagine what those would be." I remained calm but unmovably firm.
"Your living protocols, the honeymoon expectations, your attitude toward my daughter’s status within the Syndicate..." Roman listed desperately.
"My attitude remains unchanged, there won’t be any honeymoon, and our arrangent is already established with proper security clearance. Everything’s settled! Excuse us."
Xavier and I escaped as rapidly as possible, returned to headquarters, and ordered secure takeout that we consud in the war room, finally able to breathe freely again without the stench of Roman’s desperation polluting the air.
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