Chapter Fourteen: The Deal

The dim light of the warehouse flickered as Antonio stepped inside, his boots clicking against the cold concrete floor with every measured stride. He had been here many times before—back when his hands had been bloodied by deals that went wrong, when the air had smelled of fear and metal. But tonight, this warehouse would hold a different kind of weight. It would hold a meeting that would change everything.

Leonardo Carlos was already there, his back to Antonio, as he looked out of the window at the distant city lights. The two men were mirror images of each other—both powerful, both untouchable in their own right, and both driven by a hunger for dominance that ran deep in their blood.

“Leonardo,” Antonio’s voice broke the silence, low and steady, like a predator’s whisper in the dark.

Leonardo turned slowly, his gaze piercing. He had known this day would come. Antonio de Luca had always been patient, always calculating. And now, the time had arrived to seal the fate of their families.

Antonio stepped into the dim light, his presence radiating authority. The air grew heavy with tension as he stood before the older man, his eyes cold and unwavering.

"Non pensavo che fossi così stupido," Antonio said, his voice laced with disdain. (“I didn’t think you’d be this stupid.”)

Leonardo’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing, allowing Antonio to continue. He already knew where this conversation was headed, but he couldn’t help but feel the sharp sting of Antonio’s words.

"Questa è la mia ultima offerta, e ti consiglio di ascoltarla bene," Antonio continued, his tone cold but firm. (“This is my final offer, and I suggest you listen carefully.”)

Leonardo’s eyes narrowed. He could see that Antonio wasn’t here to negotiate. He was here to demand. "Parla, de Luca. Dimmi cosa vuoi." (“Speak, de Luca. Tell me what you want.”)

Antonio’s lips twisted into a thin, mocking smile. He stepped closer, the distance between them closing as he asserted his dominance. His hand rested lightly on the edge of a nearby table, his fingers curling around it like a predator preparing to strike.

“Voglio tua figlia," Antonio said flatly, his eyes glinting with the fire of a man who had already decided. (“I want your daughter.”)

Leonardo’s gaze hardened. The calm of the moment was shattered by the weight of Antonio’s words. Isabella—his only daughter, the jewel of the Carlos family. To have her taken from him, especially in this way, felt like a betrayal.

“Che cosa intendi?” Leonardo growled, his voice growing colder, darker. (“What do you mean?”)

Antonio let out a small, almost imperceptible chuckle. He could feel the power shifting in the room, and he savored it. This was the moment he had been waiting for. “Non farò domande, Leonardo. Se mio figlio vuole tua figlia, lui avrà tua figlia. E tu non farai nulla per fermarlo." (“I won’t ask questions, Leonardo. If my son wants your daughter, he will have your daughter. And you won’t do a damn thing to stop it.”)

Leonardo’s expression was unreadable, but his fists clenched. He had known that Antonio would be relentless. But there was something in the way Antonio spoke, so sure of himself, that struck a chord of fear in him. His family had been powerful, but Antonio’s reach was growing, and his ambition had no bounds.

“Stai cercando di manipolare la situazione. Isabella è mia figlia,” Leonardo snarled, his voice cutting through the air. (“You’re trying to manipulate the situation. Isabella is my daughter.”)

Antonio’s eyes darkened, his expression turning colder than ice. “Quella è la tua debolezza, Leonardo. Non vedi il quadro più grande. Il potere che ti stai preparando a perdere. E se non mi ascolti, perderai più di tua figlia.” (“That’s your weakness, Leonardo. You don’t see the bigger picture. The power you’re about to lose. And if you don’t listen to me, you’ll lose more than just your daughter.”)

Leonardo took a slow breath, his face twitching with barely contained anger. Antonio had always been a master at playing the game, and right now, he was playing it to perfection. “Non voglio vedere tuo figlio soffrire,” Leonardo said, his voice taut with controlled fury. (“I don’t want to see your son suffer.”)

Antonio’s gaze didn’t waver. “Nessuno soffrirà, Leonardo. Non se capisci come funziona. Mio figlio avrà Isabella. E tu farai quello che deve essere fatto, o finirà tutto per te. La tua famiglia non avrà più posto nel mondo che stiamo creando.” (“No one will suffer, Leonardo. Not if you understand how this works. My son will have Isabella. And you will do what must be done, or it will all end for you. Your family will have no place in the world we’re creating.”)

The room seemed to contract around them, the weight of Antonio’s words pressing down on Leonardo like a vise. His fists trembled with the weight of the decision he was about to make. To give his daughter to Antonio? To bind his family to this monster, this cold-hearted king of the underworld? The idea revolted him, but the truth was inescapable: he had no choice.

Isabella was everything to him, but the reality of the situation was clear. He could not protect her from Antonio. No one could.

Leonardo took a long, deliberate breath, the fight draining from his posture as he realized the inevitable. He had no leverage left. “Lo farò. Ma ricorda, Antonio, che nulla di questo è senza conseguenze. Se mia figlia soffre, sarai tu a pagarne il prezzo.” (“I will do it. But remember, Antonio, none of this is without consequences. If my daughter suffers, you’ll pay the price.”)

Antonio’s smile stretched across his face, sharp and predatory. “Non preoccuparti per Isabella, Leonardo. Mi assicurerò che lei sia… trattata bene. Avrà il suo posto. Un posto che le spetta. E alla fine, lo accetterà. Perché è così che funzionano le cose nel nostro mondo. Io controllo tutto.” (“Don’t worry about Isabella, Leonardo. I’ll make sure she’s… well taken care of. She’ll have her place. A place she deserves. And in the end, she’ll accept it. Because that’s how things work in our world. I control everything.”)

Leonardo nodded stiffly, his anger still simmering beneath the surface but resigned to his fate. Antonio had won. The deal had been sealed.

“Va bene, Antonio,” he muttered, his voice strained. (“Fine, Antonio.”)

Antonio’s eyes gleamed as he stood up, his posture still commanding, his presence filling the room like an undeniable force. He walked slowly toward Leonardo, a sense of satisfaction flooding through him. The deal had been made, and now, everything would fall into place.

“Ricorda, Leonardo,” Antonio said, his voice low and dangerous. “Questo non è solo un matrimonio. È una dichiarazione di guerra. E ora, sei dalla mia parte. Non c’è via di fuga.” (“Remember, Leonardo. This isn’t just a marriage. It’s a declaration of war. And now, you’re on my side. There’s no escape.”)

Leonardo remained silent, his fists clenched at his sides as Antonio turned to leave. But just before he reached the door, Antonio paused, casting one last glance over his shoulder.

“Oh, e Leonardo,” he said, his smile dark and knowing. “Mi divertirò molto a rimodellarla. Un uomo come me sa come fare.” (“Oh, and Leonardo. I’ll have a lot of fun breaking her. A man like me knows how to do that.”)

With that, Antonio de Luca left the warehouse, his plans already set in motion. And as he walked out into the cool night air, he knew that nothing would stand in his way now. Isabella Carlos would be his, and soon, the entire mafia world would bend to his will.