"Leave Elena out of this." His tone sharpens. "She's been through enough."
I clench my jaw. "I don't intend to hurt her or anyone else. But the truth?—"
"The truth?" Dom interrupts. "No, this is about revenge. Because from where I stand, your interest in clearing your name coincides suspiciously with all the trouble La Corona's been having."
My blood runs cold. "What exactly are you suggesting?"
"I'm suggesting that someone wants us divided. Someone with a grudge. Someone with something to prove." His eyes never leave mine. "Interesting timing for you to return from Italy and start stirring up old wounds."
My hands curl into fists at my sides. "You think I'm behind the attacks on our families?” My voice drops dangerously low. "I've given everything to La Corona."
"So did your father. But you're not him." Dom's words cut deep. "Antonio Monti understood when to let sleeping dogs lie."
I’m struck again by the idea that my father knew more than he let on and instead of fighting for my innocence, for my honor, he sent me to Italy.
I step forward, close enough to see the flecks of amber in Dom's eyes. "I'm not my father. And if you think I'd betray La Corona for personal vengeance, you don't know me at all."
“That’s the problem, Luca. No one knows you.”
“Well, now you will.”
Dom holds my gaze, neither of us willing to back down. The celebration continues around us, oblivious to the chasm opening between two of La Corona's pillars.
"I spent seven years in exile because someone needed a scapegoat," I say, my voice low but steady as Dom turns to leave. "I won't be that convenient target again. I've earned this ring, this title, and I'll be damned if I let anyone, including you, question my loyalty to La Corona."
Dom reassesses me with narrowed eyes. "Your father trusted me."
"My father trusted everyone until they gave him reason not to. I'm starting from the opposite position."
The tension between us crackles.
"You have no idea what forces you're playing with, Luca. Some truths are buried for a reason."
"Is that a threat?" I don't back down, meeting his gaze with equal intensity.
“Ahem.” Marco joins us in the corner. "Gentlemen, your absence is being noticed. The new Don Monti should be celebrating with his guests, not hiding in the corner."
Dom's face transforms instantly into a pleasant mask. "Of course. I was just offering my congratulations in private."
I force my features to mirror his civility, though inside I’m boiling over in anger. "And I appreciate it, Don Vitale."
Dom leaves with a nod. The triumph of my ascension is now tainted with doubt and simmering anger.
“That looked intense,” Marco says, a smile on his face, but I can tell it’s for show. “Please don’t tell me you’re discussing your mission to clear your name by finding Umberto’s killer.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What do you know about it?”
Marco stares at me with a mixture of confusion and concern.
“Because everyone around this is telling me to let things stay buried. What’s buried, Marco?”
“I don’t know, but everyone is right. Some things should stay in the past. Forge forward.”
“Not while what’s buried brings a stain to my reputation.”
He blows out a breath. “You’re as bad as your sister.” He finishes his champagne. “Come on, join the party at least, Don Monti.”
I return to the group. Glasses clink, hands shake, smiles flash. No one would guess that minutes ago, Dom and I were on the verge of shattering decades of peace.
