Exposed to the CEO Behind the Mafia Mask (by Silver Spoon) novel Chapter 87

Chapter 87: Chapter 87 Moving the Party

Ivy’s POV

When I felt familiar fingers brush against my skin, electricity shot through my entire body. Caleb’s touch always had this effect on me, setting every nerve on fire with the dangerous intensity that marked everything about the Thorne family. Behind us, Jude’s voice cut through the private lounge’s controlled atmosphere.

"Seriously, Nora? Every single time I track you women down, you’re practically attached at the hip to these guys." Jude’s complaint sent us into fits of laughter, though his hand never strayed far from his concealed weapon.

"Playing innocent now, are we?" Caleb’s hand found my shoulder, his grip possessive and warm, the kind of territorial claim that marked a Don’s woman. "You orchestrated this whole gathering, didn’t you?"

"Last I checked, nobody sent you an official family summons," Zoe shot back without even glancing at Finn’s increasingly dangerous expression, the kind that usually preceded bloodshed in our circles.

"Oh really? So my devoted wife just happened to mention exactly where she’d be conducting business and when, purely for pillow talk?" Jude’s voice dripped with the sardonic edge that made him one of Caleb’s most feared lieutenants.

"I was saving you the trouble of having your surveillance teams tail me again, but that doesn’t mean I wanted you or your crew of killers here," Nora fired back, her tone sharp enough to cut through armor plating.

Parker and his neutral territory enforcers were clearly enjoying watching the Thorne family’s inner circle squirm. That’s when Brenda decided to play diplomat with her trademark lethal charm, the kind that had helped her survive multiple different family wars.

"Look, we’re all trapped in the same web of blood and bullets now. Why don’t we make the best of it? High-stakes poker, imported liquor, strategic conversations. What do you say, gentlemen?"

"If you want us to tolerate your presence in our territory, you’d better agree, because we’re not abandoning our positions," Gemma declared, watching them exchange the kind of calculating glances that preceded either alliance or assassination.

The guys had no choice but to accept our terms. Sharing tables with Parker’s neutral zone operators was becoming our new reality, whether the Thorne hierarchy liked it or not. They settled into the reinforced leather chairs and signaled the bartender for drinks, each movement carefully measured in the way of men accustomed to violence.

"So what’s the stake tonight? Territory? Information? Or are we keeping it simple with cash?" Xavier asked, rubbing his hands together with the obvious excitement of a man who’d survived more family wars than most people had birthdays.

"Keep your mouth shut, Xavier," Dominic snapped, clearly trying to prevent another disaster like the last time weapons had been drawn over card games. But it was already too late for caution.

"Well, since we all operate in similar circles of influence, let’s make this interesting," Silas suggested with the kind of sly grin that usually preceded either brilliant strategy or spectacular bloodbaths.

"Nobody’s betting anything that involves us personally, Silas. Absolutely not," Zoe warned immediately, her voice carrying the deadly seriousness of someone who’d learned to navigate family politics with her life on the line.

"We could always relocate to my fortified compound for a more private game," Brenda said casually, as if she were suggesting afternoon tea rather than moving to a location specifically designed for interrogations and executions. I watched Caleb’s jaw clench with territorial aggression.

"Nobody here is compromising operational security in front of outsiders," Caleb growled, his protective instincts firing on all cylinders in the way that made grown men flee for their lives.

"I’m with Caleb on this one," Parker agreed quickly, recognizing the dangerous shift in the Thorne Don’s demeanor. "Let’s stick to traditional stakes and see where the evening takes us."

We all nodded our agreement, understanding the unspoken rules of engagement. The game began with the kind of careful tension that marked all interactions between rival family interests. The atmosphere was surprisingly controlled, even pleasant by our standards. The guys were actually maintaining civility, which was practically miraculous given their usual approach to conflict resolution.

But Zoe had other plans brewing behind those calculating eyes. I caught her typing rapidly on her encrypted phone, sending messages to our secure group channel.

"This is way too civilized. They’re practically forming a peace treaty. We need to introduce some chaos into the equation."

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