______________________

HEARTLESS

♧

KANYE WEST

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I WATCHED Celine storm back into the building, her heels clicking against the pavement with a defiance that sent a ripple of irritation through me. What the fuck was I going to do with her? She didn't understand how dire this situation was—or maybe she just didn't care.

The alliance was more than a piece of paper, more than some fancy ceremony and whispered promises of loyalty. It was survival, legacy, power. Families like ours didn't get to play by the rules of the common world. We were the rules. And rules didn't bend for tantrums, no matter how sharp her tongue or how fiery her glare.

I exhaled, dragging a hand down my face. She was impossible—beautifully, infuriatingly impossible. I should've known that the woman who walked into this marriage with a smirk and venom in her veins wouldn't suddenly soften to the realities of our world.

But this? This was more than her rebellion or her pride. This was everything.

I leaned against the railing, staring at the skyline as if the answer would materialize in the distance. The Genovese name was built on decades of dominance, carved into history with blood and fear. My father made sure of that. And now, with enemies watching our every move and alliances hanging by a thread, this marriage—this alliance—was supposed to cement our power.

Instead, it felt like trying to tame a hurricane.

Her mother had been clear when the arrangement was made: Celine was headstrong, a wild card. But even wild cards played a role. And this role? It wasn't optional.

I straightened, brushing off my sleeves. She thought this was about control, about forcing her hand. But it wasn't. Not entirely. It was about necessity, about survival.

She didn't see the bigger picture yet, but she would. She had to.

I followed her back inside, my steps measured, deliberate. She was at the bar, laughing with her friends like she hadn't just walked away from a conversation that would define the future of two empires.

I turned back to the main room where her friends were still lingering, watching them with more scrutiny this time. The girl with the fiery red hair—Valencia Bottega—twirled the stem of her glass between her fingers, a grin on her face that said she was up to no good. Bottega. That name carried weight in our circles, infamous for their finesse in stealing anything and everything. Jewelry, secrets, identities—if it existed, the Bottega family could take it and make it disappear.

Valencia had the air of someone who never took anything too seriously, but I'd learned over the years not to mistake lightheartedness for naivety. The Bottegas didn't survive this long by being careless. And judging by how closely she guarded Celine, she was more than just a friend—she was a weapon Celine wielded without needing to give the order.

Then there was Malakai. He leaned against the bar, his dark eyes unreadable, his quiet presence demanding respect in a way that was almost unnerving. His family, the Santiagos, were once FBI royalty—a legacy of agents and investigators who had prided themselves on unshakable integrity. Then, years ago, they'd crossed the line, trading badges for influence within the shadows. The Santiagos became an invaluable resource, a kind of unofficial council for the underworld. They knew everything about everyone. If someone sneezed, Malakai likely knew before they grabbed a tissue.

He didn't say much, but when he did, people listened. Including Celine, which was a feat in itself. That kind of trust wasn't given—it was earned. And somehow, these two misfits had earned their way into her life and stayed there. They weren't just her friends; they were her co-conspirators, her safety net, her family.

"Valencia. Malakai." I used their full names, testing the weight of them. Val blinked, surprised, before grinning. "Ooh, I like that. So formal. You should try that with Celine—she'd probably call you a pretentious asshole, but at least you'd get her attention."

Malakai raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You didn't call us out here to practice your manners. Spit it out."

I straightened, ignoring Val's amused snicker. "I need your help. You've known Celine since she was a kid. I need to know how to get through to her."

Val set her glass down, her expression softening just slightly. "Antonio, let me save you some time. Celine doesn't 'do' getting through to. She's like a brick wall with spikes. And poison ivy. And maybe a bear trap, for good measure."

Malakai smirked faintly. "She respects strength, not groveling. If you go in soft, she'll eat you alive."

"Which is why you need to surprise her," Val cut in. "Do something unexpected."

I raised an eyebrow, my patience thinning. "Like what?"

"A pet," Val said without hesitation, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"A pet," I repeated flatly.

"Yeah!" Val said brightly. "Something she can take care of, something that's just hers. It shows you're paying attention to what she might want, not just what you think she should have."

"No dogs or cats," Malakai added. "She says they look like discombobulated rats in designer fur coats. Her words, not mine."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Then what? A fish?"

Val shook her head. "A scorpion. It's perfect."

"A scorpion," I said, deadpan. "You're joking."

"Dead serious," Val said, her grin widening. "Think about it. Scorpions are small, lethal, and gorgeous in a dangerous kind of way. Just like Celine."

Malakai leaned against the wall, his voice low and even. "She'll appreciate the thought. It's not something generic or predictable. And she'd respect a creature as poisonous as she can be."

I stared at them, both so certain of this absurd idea, and realized they weren't wrong. Celine wasn't the kind of woman who wanted roses or jewelry. She wanted respect, understanding, and, above all, effort.

"You really think this will work?" I asked.

Val shrugged, picking up her glass again. "No guarantees, boss man, but it's a hell of a lot better than nothing."

Malakai nodded once, his gaze steady. "You're not trying to tame her. You're trying to meet her on her level. Show her you see her for who she is."

I considered their words, filing away the way they spoke about her with such ease, as if Celine were a puzzle they'd long since solved. I didn't know whether to envy them or thank them.

"A scorpion it is," I said finally.

Val clapped her hands together, delighted. "Oh, this is gonna be fun. Can we come with you to pick it out?"

"No," I said sharply. "But you can keep me from making a fool of myself."

Val laughed. "You're on your own there, Antonio."

Malakai's smirk deepened. "Good luck. You'll need it."

As they turned to leave, I stood there, my mind racing. A scorpion. Of all the things. But they were right about one thing: Celine wasn't like anyone I'd ever known. If I wanted to win her over, I'd have to think like her.

I exhaled, my lips curving into a faint smile despite myself. A creature as poisonous as her. It was fitting, in its own way.

The kitchen was quiet when I walked in, the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air. Albert stood by the counter, meticulously wiping down a knife as if it had personally offended him. His crisp white shirt and tailored vest made him look more like he was about to attend a royal gala than clean up after Celine's friends.

"Albert," I said, leaning against the doorframe.

"Sir." He didn't look up, his movements efficient and practiced.

"You didn't seem fazed by Celine's guests. Val and Malakai."

He let out a soft snort, placing the knife back in its proper slot. "If I allowed myself to be fazed by every hurricane that woman brings into this house, I'd have died of stress decades ago. Besides, I like Valencia. She has a certain... flair."

"Flair?" I repeated, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes, flair. A charming recklessness. Reminds me of you, back when you were tolerable."

I ignored the jab. "And Malakai?"

Albert finally turned to face me, his expression as dry as his humor. "Malakai is a man of few words, and I, for one, appreciate the reprieve. Between you, Celine, and Valencia, I consider him the calm in a very loud storm."

I smirked, stepping further into the room. "Fair assessment. Though I doubt even Malakai can help me with this situation."

"Ah, the situation." Albert folded his arms, his sharp eyes studying me like I was a particularly tricky chess move. "Would this be the same situation that has you pacing around like a caged tiger, or a new one entirely?"

"The same," I admitted. "Celine."

Albert's lips twitched, a flicker of amusement breaking through his usual stoicism. "Of course. The storm queen herself."

"She's impossible." I ran a hand through my hair, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Stubborn, volatile, utterly unpredictable."

"Sounds like someone I know," Albert quipped, earning him a pointed look.

"I'm serious, Albert. Her friends suggested I get her a scorpion."

Albert raised an eyebrow. "A scorpion? How delightfully macabre. And yet... oddly fitting."

"That's what they said." I sat at the kitchen island, my tone growing thoughtful. "She's not like anyone I've ever dealt with. She doesn't respond to power plays or charm. She doesn't care about the things most people do."

"No," Albert agreed. "Celine Genovese cares about authenticity. She may be prickly, but she's remarkably perceptive. She'll see through any attempt to manipulate her, intentional or not."

I stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. "You think she'll like the gift?"

Albert tilted his head, his gaze unyielding. "I think she'll recognize the effort. Whether she likes it or not will depend on whether she believes it came from you or from her meddlesome friends."

"Good point," I muttered.

"Of course, if you'd like my advice," Albert continued, his tone taking on that sardonic edge he wielded so well, "perhaps you should consider speaking to her. Honestly, I mean. Not your usual brooding riddles and veiled threats. Actual words, Antonio."

I gave him a wry smile. "And here I thought you were just a butler."

Albert smirked, grabbing a bottle of wine from the rack. "I'm an exceptional butler, sir. Don't forget it."

---

The next day, I was in my office, sorting through contracts and shipments, when my phone buzzed. I picked it up, glancing at the screen. Val.

I answered with a clipped, "Yes?"

"Good morning, sunshine," Val sang, her voice gratingly cheerful.

"What do you want?"

Malakai's voice came through next, calm and blunt. "She likes the scorpion."

I straightened in my chair. "She does?"

"Well, she hasn't killed it yet," Val added. "She's calling it Venom, so I'd say that's a good sign."

"She named it?"

"Yep. She even made sure Albert set up a proper tank for it," Val said. "But, uh, don't think this means she's suddenly in love with you or anything. She's still pissed."

"Noted," I said dryly.

Malakai cut in again, his tone as measured as ever. "You've got a foot in the door. Don't screw it up."

"Good advice," I said, leaning back in my chair. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," Val said, her voice dropping into something almost conspiratorial. "If you really want to impress her, try doing something unexpected. Like, I don't know, actually asking her what she wants instead of deciding for her."

I smirked. "Duly noted, Valencia."

"Oh, he's using my full name again," Val teased. "Someone's in a good mood."

I ended the call before she could say anything else, setting the phone down with a sigh. A scorpion. Of all the ridiculous things, it was working.

But as Albert had said, effort only went so far. If I wanted to truly understand Celine, I'd have to do more than just follow advice.

I'd have to earn it. Earn it? Seriously? I'd have to earn pussy? What type of fucking arrangement was i trapped in.

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AYY YOUR GIRLS BACKK !!

happy new years everyone, I am so so sorry for being gone for so long I dropped my phone and couldn't write but now I have a substitute as mine is getting fixed so I can write again ahh !!

I hope you're all doing well and that you remember to drink water today !

-zio 🍸