7- New Tactics

Azazel was more than determined; he was enraged. The defiance of his daughter had crossed a line, and the humiliation of her rejecting the marriage he arranged with Alexander Lucci, the head of all Mafia families, ignited a fury within him that was almost palpable.

In the dim light of his office, Azazel paced like a caged beast, his hands balled into fists at his sides. He had spent years building his empire, ensuring that his daughter would align with the right family to strengthen his influence, and now she was throwing it all away. The thought of Eleanor defying him in front of the other Mafia bosses was unacceptable.

He glanced at the framed photographs lining the wall, images of power and prosperity—his life’s work—but Eleanor’s rebellion threatened to unravel it all. “I will not let her ruin everything I’ve built,” he growled, his voice low and menacing.

Azazel turned to his men, who stood at attention, watching their boss with a mixture of apprehension and respect. “We need to bring her back. No more games. We’ll show her that defiance has consequences.” The men exchanged glances, knowing they were treading dangerous waters by challenging a daughter who was so fiercely independent.

“Find her,” he commanded, his voice slicing through the tension in the room. “And when you do, don’t treat her like a daughter. She needs to learn that I will always be in control. If she thinks she can walk away from this family, she has another thing coming.”

Azazel’s enforcers nodded, understanding the weight of his words. They had witnessed the lengths he would go to ensure obedience, and they knew failure was not an option. As they moved to execute his orders, Azazel returned to his desk, his mind racing with thoughts of how to reassert his authority.

He envisioned dragging Eleanor back to the mansion, showing her that there was no escape from her fate. She needed to be reminded of her position within the family and the responsibilities that came with it. The last thing he wanted was for her to think she could choose her own path, especially one that led her to Alexander Lucci—a man known for his cunning and ruthless tactics.

“Prepare the men,” he said, his voice firm as he picked up a glass of whiskey and took a long sip. “If she refuses to come back willingly, we will take more drastic measures. I want her back under my roof, where she belongs, and I won’t hesitate to remind her of that.”

As he finished the drink, Azazel felt a dark sense of satisfaction. He had always been a man who took control, who wielded power like a weapon, and he would not let his daughter’s rebellion overshadow that. If Eleanor thought she could challenge him, she was sorely mistaken. He would reclaim his daughter, even if it meant using fear to make her understand that he was the one in charge.

In the depths of his mind, he plotted, his eyes gleaming with determination. He would not rest until he had her back, until she recognized the strength of her family’s legacy. And once he had her back, he would make sure she understood that there was no escaping her destiny, not as long as he drew breath.

As Azazel's words of determination echoed in the shadowy corners of his office, they carried a weight that reached Alexander Lucci like a dark storm brewing on the horizon. Alexander stood at the center of his own headquarters, the air thick with tension as he received the intel from his most trusted enforcer.

"Azazel's furious," his enforcer reported, the urgency in his voice palpable. "He’s mobilizing men to bring Eleanor back. He won’t stop until he has her under his control."

Alexander's jaw clenched, his dark eyes narrowing. The thought of Azazel trying to exert his authority over Eleanor ignited a primal fire within him. He had watched her stand her ground against her father, her fierce spirit a stark contrast to the cold, calculating world of the Mafia. The connection they shared was undeniable, and now that connection was under threat.

"Let him try," Alexander growled, his voice low and menacing. The intensity of his presence filled the room, his men instinctively stepping back as they felt the tension radiating off him. "He underestimates her strength and my resolve. Eleanor is not a pawn to be moved at his whim."

He moved closer to his enforcer, his expression hardening. "I want eyes everywhere. We need to know his every move. If he thinks he can intimidate her into submission, he has another thing coming."

The enforcer nodded, recognizing the command behind his boss's words. “We’ll keep a close watch, but Azazel has a network of loyal men. He won't hesitate to use force if necessary.”

Alexander's demeanor shifted, a dangerous calm settling over him. "If he lays a finger on her, we will respond. Gather the men. I want a show of strength. Make it clear that no one touches what belongs to me." His voice was a low growl, an assertion of power that sent a shiver through his men.

"Understood," his enforcer replied, a mix of admiration and apprehension in his tone. He knew that Alexander's loyalty to Eleanor was fierce, and that he would stop at nothing to protect her.

As the men dispersed to prepare, Alexander stood alone for a moment, contemplating the brewing storm. He thought of Eleanor—her fiery spirit, her defiance against her father, and the undeniable pull that connected them. It frustrated him to see her caught in this web of family loyalty and expectation, but he would not let Azazel's threats shake her resolve.

He walked to the window, staring out into the night, the city lights flickering like stars against the darkness. A plan began to form in his mind, one that would not only protect Eleanor but also send a message to Azazel: that she was under his protection now, and any attempt to reclaim her would be met with swift and brutal consequences.

"I will not let him take you from me," he murmured into the night. "You are mine, Eleanor, whether you acknowledge it or not. I will fight for you, and I will make it clear to your father that no one can control you—not him, not anyone. You will see that we are stronger together."

With resolve hardening in his chest, Alexander prepared for the battle that lay ahead. Azazel might have the influence and power of the Mafia, but he underestimated the force of will that Alexander and Eleanor would unleash together. The game was far from over, and he intended to come out on top, no matter the cost.

The door swung open again, this time revealing a different figure—Roberto Mancini, a notorious Mafia boss from the west side, known for his cunning strategies and ambition. His presence filled the room, his confidence almost palpable.

“Alexander,” he greeted with a casual smile, though the glint in his eyes suggested he was anything but friendly. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Depends on what you want,” Alexander replied, his tone clipped as he pushed away from the desk. He sensed the undertones of Roberto’s visit and braced himself for yet another unwanted marriage proposal.

Roberto stepped further into the room, his hands casually tucked into his jacket pockets. “I won’t beat around the bush. I’m here to discuss a potential alliance through marriage.”

Alexander’s expression hardened at the mere mention of marriage. “You’re wasting your breath. I’m not interested.”

“Not interested? Hear me out.” Roberto leaned against the door frame, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “My daughter, Isabella, is eager to secure a powerful husband. A union with the Lucci family would bolster our positions against the other factions.”

“Is that supposed to appeal to me?” Alexander shot back, his patience wearing thin. “I’m not looking to add another name to my list of enemies by marrying into your family.”

Roberto’s smile faded slightly, but he pressed on. “You misunderstand me, Alexander. This isn’t about enemies; it’s about strengthening our families. You’ve faced challenges lately, and I’m offering you a chance to solidify your position.”

“I don’t need your help,” Alexander said, his voice low and menacing. “And I definitely don’t need a wife I didn’t choose.”

Roberto straightened, sensing the tension crackling in the air. “Look, I know you’re busy with the situation regarding Azazel’s daughter, but this could be a mutually beneficial arrangement. The other leaders are circling, and an alliance would send a strong message.”

“And what message would that be?” Alexander challenged, stepping closer, his imposing figure towering over Roberto. “That I’m some sort of puppet who can be swayed by family connections? I’d rather go to war than be tied down by a marriage I don’t want.”

Roberto raised an eyebrow, taken aback by Alexander's intensity. “You’re making a grave mistake, Alexander. Relationships like these can strengthen your position in ways you can’t imagine. You’ve been too distracted with your feelings for Eleanor.”

The mention of Eleanor was like a match to gasoline, igniting a fierce protectiveness in Alexander. “Do not speak her name,” he warned, his voice a low growl. “You have no idea what you’re getting into.”

“Then let me remind you, Alexander,” Roberto replied, trying to regain control of the conversation. “In this business, we all have to make sacrifices. The question is whether you’re willing to make the right ones to secure your future.”

“I’m not sacrificing anything for a marriage I don’t want. If Azazel wants a war, then so be it. But I will not let him drag Eleanor into this mess,” Alexander said, determination etched across his features.

Roberto's demeanor shifted, and he realized he had pushed too far. “Alright, I’ll take my leave. But remember, Alexander, in this game, every alliance counts.”

As Roberto turned to leave, Alexander clenched his fists, anger and frustration surging through him. He wouldn’t let anyone use Eleanor as a pawn in their games. The stakes were high, and he had to be more vigilant than ever.

He returned to the window, his mind racing with thoughts of Eleanor, his resolve strengthening. He would protect her, and he would ensure that Azazel and anyone else who dared to come between them would face the full force of his wrath. As the night deepened, so did his commitment to fight for what he desired most: Eleanor Montgomery.