CHAPTER 1
Marco Conti
I openthe door to Vito's office without bothering to knock. He called me here, so he knows I'm coming. I find him standing by his stone fireplace, staring into the flames with a drink in his hand. He's starting to look older, like this life is wearing on him. The amber liquid catches the light—whiskey neat.
Fuck.
Whiskey neat means I'm about to be asked to do something I won't like. I don't think he even realizes he reaches for that particular drink when we have these conversations. The routine is so ingrained that it's become my early warning system.
I thought we had a temporary reprieve after Dante removed Kieran from existence. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe there's a new development we didn't anticipate.
Vito takes a slow sip and turns to me, gesturing toward the leather couch with his free hand. The office feels heavier than usual tonight, charged with the kind of tension that precedes violence or difficult decisions. I walk over and settle into my usual spot, crossing my ankle over my knee and leaning back. He joins me but doesn't sit—just stands there, too rigid, too tense.
"You want to tell me what's going on?" I ask, feeling more uneasy as the silence stretches between us. No one else is here, so I'm not sure why he's dragging this out. Vito is many things, but hesitant isn't one of them.
He downs the rest of his whiskey in one gulp, and that tells me everything I need to know about how bad this is going to be. This isn't normal behavior for him. He never hesitates, never second-guesses himself. He's always straight to the point, efficient and decisive.
A knock at the door interrupts my growing concern, and we both turn toward the sound.
"Come in," Vito finally says, setting his empty glass on the coffee table with a sharp clink.
I grab the glass and stand, heading to the mini bar. Clearly, he's going to need another one. Dante and Rafa enter the office as I pour a fresh whiskey. Dante has recently earned his place in our inner circle after his help with the Kieran situation. His methods were questionable, but Vito sees the man he's become, not the angry boy he once was.
"Please, sit," Vito gestures to the three of us.
I hand him the refilled glass and reclaim my spot on the couch. Dante and Rafa settle on the couch across from me, and Vito takes his position between us, still looking like he's wrestling with something significant. He sips his whiskey and finally sits beside me, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
"As you know, Kieran is dead," Vito begins, his voice carrying the weight of authority that's made him one of the most feared men in the city. "While that provides us with a brief reprieve, I must remind you that it's brief. Someone in their organization will take this opportunity to step into the power vacuum. We need to get ahead of this. Now."
He turns his attention to Dante. "Any chatter about who's trying to move in?"
"Not yet," Dante replies, his voice steady. "We're looking into all extended family members and associates, but no one seems interested... yet. Even Finn and Declan are keeping their distance."
The emphasis on 'yet' hangs in the air between us. We all know someone will make a move eventually. It's just a matter of when and how bold they'll be about it.
"Keep doing your research," Vito instructs. "Station extra men around their usual posts, but be discreet. Follow their people. Track them. See what we can learn about their next move."
"You got it, boss," Dante says with that characteristic smirk of his, like the task is already complete. Cheeky bastard, but he gets results.
Vito leans back, taking another measured sip of his whiskey, then nods toward the door—his standard signal that this part of the meeting is over. Dante and Rafa stand to leave, but I remain seated. Something else is wrong here, something bigger than routine intelligence gathering, and I'm not leaving until he tells me what it is.
Dante and Rafa are almost to the door when Vito stands and turns toward them, stopping their exit.
"One more thing."
They pause and turn back to face our Don, and I feel my muscles tense. Whatever's coming next is the real reason for this meeting.
"Elena needs to be on our radar."
My head whips toward him so fast I'm surprised I don't give myself whiplash. He says her name like he can't quite believe it came out of his mouth in a business meeting. These conversations are about external threats and strategy, notfamily. Elena is family—she's Rina and Sofia's cousin, an asset when we need her skills, but family nonetheless. Her smart mouth and attitude have nothing to do with her value to this organization.
"Elena?" I question, not understanding why we're discussing Rina and Sofia's cousin in a threat assessment meeting.
"She's been meeting someone. Secretly." Vito's voice carries a note of disappointment that cuts deeper than anger would. "I haven't been able to find out who or why. I'd like to think she wouldn't do anything to betray us, but that's not the life we live. There's always an enemy lurking in the shadows, and I'm hoping she's not one of them... for Rina's sake."
He bows his head as if the weight of considering Elena a potential threat physically pains him. Rina doesn't need more heartache in her life—she's been through enough. Neither does Sofia, for that matter. This kind of betrayal would devastate both women.
"And Sofia's," Dante adds sadly, understanding how close Elena and Sofia are. The three women are more like sisters than cousins.
