Every Mafia's Favorite Girl novel Chapter 5

Chapter 5: "Recalculation Required"

House Moretti’s cleaners moved through the room with quiet efficiency.

Among the Ten Houses, they had a specific reputation: they handle what others preferred not to see — bodies, blood, anything that needed to disappear.

One by one, the unconscious attackers were lifted and dragged toward the service corridors. The dead body was cleaned, leaving the room as polished and cold as if the violence had never happened.

The Summit did not end.

In Borgata, violence was merely an impolite interruption to the business of power.

Gian Lombardi remained standing at the head of the table with both hands braced against the polished mahogany surface.

He felt older than he had an hour ago.

However, when he looked at his daughter — pale, slightly trembling, but undeniably the one turning the situation around — something in him straightened.

"The security of this neutral ground has been compromised," Gian stated, his voice carrying steadily through the chamber. "I move for a postponement of the dissolution vote. We must address the breach before we discuss the redistribution of territory."

A low murmur rippled across the table.

Some of the Dons considered the proposal seriously. Others already looked openly insulted by the suggestion alone.

Armando Ombra leaned slightly forward, his sharp eyes fixed calmly on Gian.

"The breach is a separate matter, Don Gian. The fact remains: House Lombardi is insolvent. The debt remains, and your House cannot pay."

Near the head of the table, Aren had just accepted a fresh cupcake from a servant whose hands were still not entirely steady.

She studied the frosting for a brief moment.

’Different color.’

’Possibly lemon.’

She took a small bite, then tilted her head.

"How much is the debt?"

Armando turned toward her slowly, his expression caught somewhere between disdain and newfound wariness.

"Five hundred million, Lady Ariana," he said flatly. "A sum your family hasn’t seen in years."

The silence that followed belonged in a museum.

Aren’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. In her mind, five hundred million sounded like an impossible mountain of cupcakes.

Before anyone else could speak—

"I will settle the debt."

The voice was cold, decisive, and came from halfway down the table.

Caio Sartori leaned back in his chair, blue eyes fixed directly upon Aren.

"House Sartori will cover the Lombardi arrears," he said evenly. "In full. Today."

Gian’s head snapped toward Caio instantly, eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

"And the price, Don Caio?"

Caio didn’t hesitate.

"Ariana Lombardi."

He held Gian’s gaze without blinking.

"She becomes mine. Under my roof. Under my protection. My terms."

The social temperature of the room plummeted thirty degrees.

Gian’s knuckles whitened violently against the mahogany.

"Explain yours, Sartori."

Caio didn’t explain.

He didn’t need to.

In Borgata’s underworld, a woman traded to settle a debt was not a partner, and certainly not an employee. She became property, wrapped in prettier language.

But before Caio could double down, a hand lifted lazily into the air.

Languid.

Amused.

And perfectly manicured.

"Oh, let’s not be greedy, Caio. It’s such a bore."

Jeremiah Castellano stepped forward from behind his father’s chair, pale teal eyes fixed openly upon Aren, his fascination no longer remotely concealed.

"I’m interested as well," he added with a bright, playful smile. "I’ve never seen a performance quite like that one. I suggest we divide."

"I am also interested in Miss Lombardi."

The third voice was quiet, clipped, and entirely devoid of Jeremiah’s charm.

Isidore Accardi still hadn’t looked up from the report in his hands. He stood with perfect posture, finishing a note before he spoke again.

"House Accardi will match any offer," he said plainly. "And exceed it."

The room instantly spiraled into shock.

The other Dons immediately exchanged glances of pure bewilderment.

’Is this truly lemon?’

’Or is it mint?’

’Why are they... arguing?’

’They want to hire me, but they’re going to start a war over the contract details.’

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