A few hours later and I'm nursing my second cup of coffee when Giovanni appears in my study doorway. Unlike his siblings, he rarely causes trouble, preferring to observe rather than engage. When he does seek me out, it's usually for a good reason.
"Afternoon, Father," he says, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
"Giovanni." I gesture for him to sit. "What's on your mind?"
He takes the chair Vittoria occupied yesterday, his expression thoughtful. "I wanted to talk about last night. About Vittoria."
I set down my coffee, giving him my full attention. "Go on."
"She's... different to what I expected," he says carefully. "Smarter. More aware."
I lean back in my chair. "You noticed that too."
Giovanni nods. "The way she handled Elisabetta's question about Mother's dress, that was clever. Diplomatic but firm. Most people would have stumbled."
"Your point?"
"My point is that she might be more of an asset than we originally thought." He pauses, choosing his words carefully. "But also, potentially more dangerous."
Smart boy. "Explain."
Giovanni's gaze grows serious. "A woman with her intelligence, in her position, she could either be incredibly valuable to our family or a significant threat. It depends on how we handle her."
I study my third son, impressed despite myself. While Lorenzo leads with emotion and the twins operate on impulse, Giovanni thinks things through. Analyzes. Plans.
"What are you suggesting?"
"Don't underestimate her," he says simply. "And don't try to break her spirit entirely. A woman like that, if you crush her completely, she'll either become useless or she'll find a way to strike back when you least expect it."
His words echo my own thoughts from earlier. "You think I should let her keep some fire?"
"I think you should channel it," Giovanni corrects. "Make her feel like she has some agency, some respect, while still maintaining control. Give her responsibilities that make her feel valued but keep her dependent on the family."
I consider this, impressed by his insight. "And if she tries to use that agency against us?"
A cold smile crosses Giovanni's face, one that reminds me, uncomfortably, of myself. "Then we remind her of exactly what she stands to lose."
Before I can respond, my phone buzzes. A text from my head of security:Problem with the Valentina situation. Need to speak ASAP.
Fuck.
"We'll continue this later," I tell Giovanni, who nods and heads for the door. "And Giovanni? Keep this conversation between us for now."
"Of course, Father."
As he leaves, I dial my security chief. He answers on the first ring.
"What's the situation, Marcus?"
"Sir, we have a problem. Valentina didn't just sneak out to meet some boy. She was meeting with reporters."
My blood turns to ice. "What?"
"Local news crew. They've been sniffing around, asking questions about the family, about recent... activities. It seems someone's been feeding them information."
I close my eyes, feeling a headache building behind my temples. "How much do they know?"
"Hard to say, sir. But they were specifically asking about the wedding, about the Costa alliance. Someone's talking."
