203
Alaric’s POV
The meeting room was quiet except for the low hum of voices as my men debated logistics. Allesio stood at the head of the table, his arms crossed, the tension in his posture mirroring my own. I sat back in my chair, listening but not speaking, my fingers steepled as I processed the information.
“They’ve been hitting our distribution routes near the docks,” Allesio said, his tone clipped. “Two shipments delayed this week alone. It’s not coincidence, Alaric.”
My jaw tightened. “And you’re sure it’s the Santoros?”
Allesio nodded. “As sure as I can be. The timing, the method-it fits their MO. They’re small-time, but they’re not stupid. They see the tension with Alonso and think it’s their chance to play kingmaker.”
“Idiots,” I muttered, leaning forward. “They won’t survive stepping into this war.”
“We could let them,” Allesio suggested. “Let them hit Alonso’s operations, stir up trouble on his end. It might even work in our favor.”
“No,” I snapped, the finality in my voice silencing the room. “I don’t want Alonso anywhere near this. He’ll twist it, claim we owe him for dealing with it, and I’m not giving that bastard any leverage.”
Allesio studied me, his expression carefully neutral. “So, what’s the play?”
I stood, pacing to the window. The city stretched out below, sprawling far and wide, and blinking with several bright lights. “We hit them back, hard and fast. Make it clear they chose the wrong side to antagonize.”
Allesio smirked. “I like the sound of that.”
Before I could outline the specifics, the door burst open, slamming against the wall. I turned, my annoyance ready to erupt, only to freeze when Francesca barreled in, clutching a stack of papers and wearing an expression of pure determination.
“What the hell is this?” I demanded, though my tone softened when I saw her. It was impossible to stay angry with Francesca, no matter how much chaos she brought into my life.
“I’m here to help,” she announced, marching straight to the table. She slapped the papers down in front of Allesio and put her hands on her hips. “You’re planning something, and I have ideas.”
Allesio’s lips twitched, but he wisely kept quiet. The other men exchanged glances, clearly unsure how to react to the small girl who had just commandeered our meeting.
“Francesca,” I began, pinching the bridge of my nose. “This is not the time-”
“It’s always the time to be prepared,” she interrupted, cutting me off with the confidence only a three-year-old could muster. “I made a map.” God. Sometimes she acted like more than a three year old.
She spread out one of the papers, revealing a crayon drawing of what I assumed was the city. There were squiggly lines for streets, X’s marking what I guessed were strategic points, and what looked like a stick figure version of me labeled “Boss.”
I exchanged a look with Allesio, who was doing a poor job of hiding his amusement. “Francesca,” I said, crouching down to her level, “this is very… creative, but we’re handling something very serious right now.”
“I know!” she said earnestly. “That’s why I’m here. You always say teamwork is important.”
“That’s true,” Allesio chimed in, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “She’s got a point, Boss.”
I shot him a glare before turning back to Francesca. “This isn’t the kind of teamwork I meant.”
“But you’re always saying we’re family, and family helps each other,” she argued, her eyes wide and earnest. “I just want to help you, Daddy.”
The room fell silent, her words hitting me harder than any argument Allesio could have made. She wasn’t wrong. Everything I did was for her, for Emilia, for our family. How could I argue with her logic when it was exactly what I preached?
“Fine,” I said, standing and crossing my arms. “Tell me about your map.”
Her face lit up with a grin, and she launched into an explanation about how we could “sneak around” and “surprise the bad guys.” Her plan was, of course, utterly nonsensical, but the passion in her voice made it impossible not to listen. The men around the table were doing their best to keep straight faces, though a few let out quiet chuckles.
By the time she finished, she was beaming, clearly proud of herself. I crouched down again, resting a hand on her shoulder. “You did a great job, Francesca. Thank you for sharing this with us.”
She nodded solemnly. “You’re welcome. Now you can catch the bad guys.”
“We will,” I promised. “But I need you to do something very important for me.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“I need you to go check on Mommy. Make sure she’s okay while I finish up here.”
She hesitated, clearly reluctant to leave, but eventually nodded. “Okay. But you have to use my map.”
“I’ll keep it right here,” I said, tapping the table. “It’s very important.”
Satisfied, she turned and skipped out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind her. I stood, shaking my head as I turned back to the table.
“Well,” Allesio said, smirking, “that was… enlightening.”
“Shut up,” I muttered, but even I couldn’t suppress a small smile.
“She’s got good instincts,” Allesio added, clearly enjoying himself. “Maybe we should put her in charge.”
“I’ll let her know you volunteered to babysit,” I shot back. “Now, focus. We need to shut this down before it escalates.”
The mood in the room shifted back to seriousness, though the warmth Francesca had brought lingered in the air. We spent the next hour finalizing plans, deciding on the best way to hit the Santoros without drawing unnecessary attention. It would be swift and decisive, sending a clear message that we weren’t to be underestimated.
As the meeting wrapped up, I glanced at the crayon map still sitting on the table. It was ridiculous, of course, but it also reminded me why I did this-why I fought so hard to keep our world intact. Francesca’s innocence, Emilia’s strength-they were the reasons I couldn’t afford to fail.
“Let’s move,” I said, standing and pushing my chair back. Allesio nodded, and the men began filing out of the room, their steps purposeful.
As I followed them, I couldn’t help but glance back at the map one last time, a small smile tugging at my lips. Maybe Francesca wasn’t so far off after all.