His Relentless Ruin - Extended Epilogue - Faye Pierce

His Relentless Ruin – Extended Epilogue

Rafael

One month later

I know something’s wrong the second I walk into Matteo’s office and see everyone’s faces.

Enzo is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed looking like someone just told him his favorite gun got discontinued. Dante is sitting in one of the chairs doing that thing where he pretends to be relaxed but his jaw is too tight for it to be convincing.

And Matteo is behind his desk with a bottle of whiskey already open at eleven in the morning, which is never a good sign.

“Well this looks fun,” I say, closing the door behind me. “Are we planning a funeral or just having one?”

Nobody laughs.

“Wow. Tough crowd.” I drop into the empty chair next to Dante. “Okay, what happened? Did someone die? Are we at war?” I look at Matteo. “So what’s the emergency? Your text said it was important.”

Matteo pours himself a drink, then pours one for me without asking, which means whatever this is requires alcohol.

Not good.

“The De Lucas,” he says finally.

“What about them?” I take the glass he offers. “I thought we were handling that situation. Vittorio’s death was tragic but accidental. We’ve been negotiating for months. Salvatore’s calmed down.”

“He has,” Matteo agrees. “Because he thinks we’re going to give him what he wants.”

“Which is?”

“An alliance. A marriage.” Matteo looks at me directly. “Between you and his daughter.”

I throw my head back and laugh, waiting for everyone to join in and then Luca will say it’s a prank, then Matteo will say what he really called me here for.

Except no one else is laughing though.

Weird.

“Wait.” I sit forward. “You’re serious.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Matteo, I’m not—I can’t—” I stop and try again. “I’m not getting married. To anyone. Ever again. You know that.”

“I know.” His voice is quiet and careful. “Believe me, Rafael, I know. I wouldn’t ask this if there was any other way.”

“There’s always another way.”

“Not this time.” He leans forward. “Salvatore won’t accept anything else. He wants the alliance he was promised. He wants a marriage into our family. And since Isabella is now married to Enzo—” He gestures vaguely. “You’re the only one who makes sense. I’ve given you your own power, your own territory. Luca is too closely tied to me as my consigliere. An alliance through him would still be seen as mine and with the circumstances Salvatore won’t agree. But you… you stand on your own. Salvatore gets a partner, not a shadow.”

The room goes very quiet.

I take a drink because I need something to do with my hands that isn’t putting my fist through Matteo’s desk.

“His daughter,” I say finally. “I don’t even know her name.”

“Gia,” Dante supplies quietly. “Gia De Luca. She’s been in Paris for the last six years. Boarding schools, finishing schools, whatever the hell rich mafia families do with daughters they want to keep sheltered.”

“So she’s a child.”

“She’s twenty-four,” Matteo says. “Old enough.”

“Old enough for what? To be bartered like property? To marry a stranger because her father says so?”

“Yes,” Matteo says flatly. “That’s exactly what she’s old enough for. Because that’s how this works and you know it.”

I do know it. I’ve known it my whole life. But knowing it and accepting it as my reality are two very different things.

“When did you agree to this?” I ask.

“I haven’t yet. Not officially. I wanted to talk to you first.” Matteo’s expression is serious. “This is your choice, Rafael. I’m not ordering you. I’m asking. And if you say no, I’ll find another way. I will speak with Luca and try to persuade Salvatore to consider this option.”

“But if I say yes, the De Lucas are satisfied. The alliance holds. No war.”

“Yes.”

I look around the room at the faces of the men I’ve worked with for years, fought beside, bled with.

Enzo looks guilty, which is fair since this whole situation started because he fell in love with Isabella.

Dante looks resigned.

And Matteo looks tired in a way I’ve never seen before, like the weight of keeping everyone alive is finally showing on his face.

“What’s she like?” I ask. “This Gia.”

“I’ve never met her,” Matteo admits. “Salvatore keeps her away from the business. Protected. Sheltered.” He pauses. “Innocent, probably. Naive about what this life actually looks like.”

“Great. So I get to marry a princess who doesn’t know what blood smells like.” I drain my glass. “This just keeps getting better.”

“You don’t have to say yes,” Enzo says from the wall.

I look at him. “Don’t I though? Because if I say no, Matteo has to find another solution than ask Luca. And another solution probably involves more bodies and more problems and I’m tired of watching people die because we can’t figure out how to play nice with the other families.”

“Rafael—”

“I’m not done.” I stand up because sitting still is impossible right now. “We all know about my wife.” I turn and face Matteo. “Now you’re asking me to marry someone I’ve never met. Someone I will never love?”

The silence that follows is heavy.

“I know,” Matteo says quietly. “And if there was any other way—”

“But there isn’t.” I laugh but it comes out bitter. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t ask me to do it.

“I’m sorry.”

I nod slowly, running the numbers in my head, weighing options I don’t actually have.

A naive sheltered mafia princess who’s probably never held a gun.

A marriage that’s purely political.

A wife I’ll never love because I already buried the only woman I ever will.

It should be an easy no. It should be the simplest decision I’ve ever made.

But then I think about Isabella almost dying six months ago. About Vittorio bleeding out in the car. About all the bodies we’ve stacked up trying to keep this family safe.

And I think about doing it all over again if I say no.

“When does she arrive?” I ask.

Matteo’s eyebrows go up slightly. “You’re saying yes?”

“I’m saying when does she arrive.”

“Two weeks. The wedding will happen immediately.”

“Two weeks.” I laugh without humor. “Well, that gives me plenty of time to prepare for a lifetime of married bliss with a stranger.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Luca says quietly.

“Yes, I do.” I look at him. “Because the alternative is war and I’m tired of war. So, I’ll marry the girl and I’ll keep her safe and I’ll do my duty to this family like I always have.” I turn back to Matteo. “But let’s be clear about something—this is a political arrangement. Nothing more. I’m not going to fall in love with her. I’m not going to pretend this is anything other than what it is. She gets my name and my protection and that’s it.”

“Understood,” Matteo says.

“Good.” I move toward the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go drink until I forget this conversation happened.”

“Rafe,” Enzo says.

I stop at the door and look back.

“I’ll be fine.” My voice comes out harder than I intend. “Just leave me be for a while.”

I leave before anyone can say anything else.

In the hallway I lean against the wall and close my eyes and take a breath.

Two weeks.

In two weeks I meet Gia De Luca, sheltered mafia princess, and we start pretending this is anything other than a business transaction.

It’s fine.

I’ve done harder things.

I’ve survived worse.