As the second son, that was his role in the Valachi family—not the strategist like his brother Luc, but the blade. And a blade couldn’t afford to doubt the hand that wielded it. Loyalty was the only thing that made the blood on his hands mean something.
Tonio moved to the window, his reflection a ghost in the glass. Luc could charm and negotiate; Tonio’s job was to make sure the threats behind those negotiations were never forgotten. In meetings, Tonio stayed a step behind, quiet while Luc talked circles around men twice his age. A simple look from Luc, a slight nod, and Tonio would shift the tension, reminding everyone who enforced the rules. It was a division of labor he never questioned. His loyalty wasn’t born of fear, but of shared blood, love for his family, and an unspoken code.
Tonio frowned. He had also dreamed about Oliver Dawson. Luc had called Tonio. A supplier was skimming off the books, double-dealing with a rival crew. Small potatoes until it started cutting into the family’s cash flow.
“Make sure the message is understood. Not just by him, but by everyone.”
Tonio had tracked the man to a parking garage near Roosevelt. The scene played out with cold clarity: the man froze when he saw him, the stark realization in his eyes. Everyone knew the meaning. The man blubbered that he had a baby on the way. Tonio’s response was professional—two rounds from his silencer to the center mass. A clean, clinical solution to a business problem. Later, in a diner bathroom, Tonio had stared at his hollow-eyed reflection. Somehow, the echo of the shots lingered in his bones.
A waitress set down a coffee he didn’t remember ordering. He drank it anyway.
He never told Luc about the man’s kid. Part of him wondered if he should have—if admitting it would have made him less a soldier, more human. But the truth felt fragile—a crack in the precise world the family had built around themselves. That boy’s existence didn’t belong in conversation. It belonged in memory, in the quiet, gnawing weight that followed him into every room.
Luc never asked. Tonio never offered. He was trusted to do his job. He carried something dark and cold anyway and once again arranged for money to be wired to the baby's mother’s account. Tonio made a soft sound of irritation, raked his fingers through his hair, and padded to the bathroom. After a long, cold shower to clear his head, Tonio dressed and grabbed his phone. One message stood out—from Luc:Call me. Need you to take care of something.
He lifted a brow and hit call. It barely rang before Luc answered.
“You took your time.”
“Just got out of the shower. What’s up?”
“I need you to handle a situation.”
Tonio pocketed his wallet and keys. “How bad?”
Luc’s voice was calm, but strain threaded underneath. “Not bad yet. But it will be if we
don’t get ahead of it.” A brief pause. “You good to go?”
He ignored that last part. “Where?”
“The Hamptons. Be there in an hour.”
The lineclickeddead. Tonio slipped his gun into its holster, grabbed his jacket, and left.
Tires crunchedover cobblestones as he pulled up to the Valachi estate. The place was a fortress and a home, with cameras and men stationed just out of sight. Tonio had lived here for years with his mother, his cousin, and his brother before finally deciding to get a penthouse where he could unwind and be alone with his thoughts. Despite his fierce love for his family, he sometimes craved the stillness and peace that came with silence. A guard opened the door before he knocked. A nod. Permission granted.
Inside, the foyer smelled of furniture polish and cigars. The sharp rhythm of heels on marble drew his eyes up.
His sister-in-law, Mia, appeared first—pregnant, poised, amused. “Hi, Tonio. You look awful.”
Tonio chuckled. He was genuinely happy for Luc. He liked Mia—her gentleness was a good match for his brother’s ruthlessness. But theirs was a world he visited, not one he livedin. Hell, he doubted he had ever even glimpsed it, because Tonio had never loved a woman with the depth his brother felt for Mia.
Luc followed, sleeves rolled, eyes dry with humor. “You do look like hell, actually.”
Tonio didn’t bite. “Good to see you, Mia.”
Luc gestured toward the study. “Come on. We need to talk.”
Mia walked over to her husband and wrapped her arms around his nape. Luc lowered his head and brushed his mouth over hers. “I’ll be back soon to walk along the sand with you.”
“You’d better,” she said softly. “I’ve arranged a picnic for us.”
Luc nodded, and Tonio smiled, grateful she was in his brother’s life. She gave Tonio a warm wave before slipping out. He and Luc walked down the long hallway toward the main study.
“Is Mother here?”
“She went shopping with Gabriella.”
