Antonio
Once Alessia’s out of earshot, Vigo takes the seat I vacated behind his desk. “We need to talk,” he says, gesturing for me to sit.
I drop into the chair across from him and watch as he casually spears a forkful of pasta—my lunch. He chews slowly, watching me for a reaction, but I give him nothing.
"She’s come a long way these past few months," he remarks, wiping his mouth.
"Whatever you’re doing, it’s working," I reply, stroking his already oversized ego.
Vigo grins. "I'm glad you can see I was right about how to train her. Someday, you'll have a woman to do the same with. Fortunately, I've got all the tools you'll need." He takes another bite, savoring his self-satisfaction.
"You said we needed to talk," I remind him, steering the conversation back on track.
"Ah, yes." He sets the fork down, his expression sharpening. "With your father gone, God rest his soul,” he pauses, savoring his dramatics. “I need a new underboss. Someone I can trust completely."
Suddenly, the room feels smaller. The air thicker. The audacity—acting like he didn't have a hand in my father's death. I keep my face blank, refusing to let him see the revulsion boiling within me.
"You’ll be my new underboss, Anton," he says as though he’s doing me a favor. "You’re blood. And I know you’ll be loyal."
"Of course," I say, my voice steady. "Whatever you need."
"I knew I could count on you." He pauses, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "Along with overseeing Alessia's security, you'll take over running the restaurant. Keeping the money flowing through it is critical to our operations.”
"I understand," I reply, voice-controlled. "I’ll make sure everything continues to run smoothly."
“Alessia will be starting work this week,” he says, leaning forward, his eyes gleaming with malice.
“Work?” I ask.
He lets out a snicker. "She’s going to be Casa della Ombre’s newest waitress. It'll make it easier for you to keep an eye on her—make sure she stays in line."
My disgust for him grows. The restaurant is the last place Alessia should be. He uses the downstairs as his personal whorehouse where he fucks Lena as often as possible. Forcing his wife into that environment is sickening.
But I can't show it.
"That makes sense," I manage to say, each word tasting bitter.
"Excellent," he says, leaning back. "I knew I could count on you."
“I’ll always have your back.”
Vigo launches into a ramble about responsibilities and expectations, but I barely hear him. My thoughts are consumed with his downfall. His arrogance will be his undoing.
"I want to throw a party," he says suddenly, clapping his hands.
"For what?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"To celebrate your promotion, of course," he says, oozing condescension.
"If that’s what you want," I say, standing to leave. "I’ve got some leads I need to follow up on."
"Fine." He waves me off dismissively. "Plan something for Friday night at the restaurant."
I pause at the door, my hand on the knob. "You want me to plan my own party?"
He looks up from his phone, incredulous. "You don’t think I’m doing it, do you?"
"Of course not," I say smoothly. "I’ll take care of it."
"Good," he mutters, already returning to his texts.
It isn’t until I get outside that I’m able take a deep breath. Looking up at the sky, I whisper, "I won’t let your death go unpunished, Dad.”
Dante appears at my side. "Going somewhere?"
"Yeah," I say, glancing between him and Alessia. "Did you get any good shots today?"
Alessia’s face lights up. "I think so. The park was so full of life. I didn’t want to come home."
"You were at the park the whole time?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
She nods slowly. "I must’ve dragged Dante around a million times."
I turn my gaze to Dante, who just shrugs, unaware that I already know about Alessia's activities. "And how was the gallery?" I ask, gauging her reaction.
Panic flashes across her face. "Don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me."
Relief washes over her. "Thank you, Anton."
Hearing her call me Anton again stirs something in me. She hasn’t called me that since we were teenagers, before Valentino’s influence tainted everything. For a moment, the memory lingers, dark and bitter, but I bury it quickly. The poison's still here, and I can’t let it spread any further.
"You’d better go inside before he starts looking for you."
She’s taken enough chances today. The last thing she needs is for Vigo to see her speaking to us and decide he needs to teach her another lesson.
"Thanks again, Dante," she says, shooting him a grateful smile before slipping into the house.
"How’d you know about the gallery?" Dante asks, his voice low.
"I’ve taken her a few times.”
"And Val doesn’t know?"
"No. He’d put a stop to it if he did."
Dante's face hardens. "The way he treats her?—"
"It’s about to get worse," I say, voice darkening.
"What are you talking about?"
"He promoted me to underboss."
"Congratulations," Dante says, though his tone is far from congratulatory.
"Thanks."
"How does that affect Alessia?" he asks, his curiosity piqued.
"I’ll be running the restaurant. And Alessia will be working there."
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dante’s face twists in disbelief. "He’s making his wife work alongside the women he regularly comes to fuck?”
"Yep," I say, my tone flat. "It’s a dick move. But would you expect anything less?"
Dante scrubs a hand over his face in frustration. "Did you find out anything useful while you were here?"
We exchange a few words about the scraps of information I’ve gathered. Valentino’s tracks are well-covered, his plans buried deep. But I can’t shake the feeling there’s more to it—more of our own men involved than we realize.
I glance back at the house, suspicion gnawing at the edges of my mind. "It’s only a matter of time," I murmur, more to myself than Dante.
"Before what?"
"Before he slips up." My voice is steady, a promise woven into the words. "And when he does, I’ll be ready."