Tanaka sat across from him with the dignity of someone accepting defeat gracefully, flanked by two men whose loyalty to their new masters was about to be tested. The old lieutenant understood that cooperation would be rewarded while resistance would be fatal.
“The Yamamoto organization,” Morrison began in his measured attorney voice, “is hereby confirmed as a subsidiaryunder the Vitale Brotherhood umbrella. Full oversight transfers to Mr. Stefano Vitale, effective immediately.”
Morrison’s words made it official, but Stefano barely heard the legal bullshit. All that mattered was the signature that would make Leo his.
“The transition will proceed without disruption,” Tanaka confirmed. “My people understand the value of established relationships.”
They’d better,Stefano thought grimly. Anyone who threatened Leo’s safety would discover exactly why the Vitale Brotherhood had earned their reputation for creative violence.
Then Morrison selected the thinner folder, and Stefano’s entire world narrowed to the photograph clipped inside. Even partially obscured, those features made his alpha nature roar with possessive hunger—ash-blond hair that caught light like spun gold, amber eyes that had haunted his dreams, bone structure so perfect it seemed designed to destroy his self-control.
“Regarding the ward,” Morrison continued. “Leo Winter-Yamamoto, age twenty-two. Mr. Yamamoto’s will explicitly names Mr. Stefano Vitale as legal guardian and protector, with absolute authority over all matters pertaining to his placement, protection, and future arrangements.”
Absolute authority.The words sent dark satisfaction racing through Stefano’s veins. Leo could protest all he wanted, but the law was on Stefano’s side now.
“Security arrangements remain intact?” Matteo asked, though Stefano could hear the barely leashed violence in his brother’s voice. Matteo had been studying Leo’s protection details obsessively, memorizing guard rotations and access routes like he was planning a siege.
“Without incident,” Tanaka confirmed. “The rotation continues perfectly. No breaches, no complications.”
No complications yet,Stefano corrected silently. But once Leo understood his new reality, complications would multiply rapidly. The boy had spirit—that much was clear from his attempted escapes. He wouldn’t submit easily to alphas who intended to claim him completely.
That was fine. Stefano preferred his conquests with fight in them.
Documents slid across polished wood with whispered promises of ownership transferred from dead hands to living ones. Stefano signed where required, each stroke of his pen binding Leo to him more thoroughly than chains. The boy didn’t know it yet, but his freedom had just ended with the scratch of expensive ink on legal paper.
The moment Stefano’s signature dried on that final document, satisfaction flooded through him like fire. Leo belonged to him now—legally, completely, in every way that mattered.
When Morrison and his assistant departed, silence settled over the room. Tanaka and his men left with respectful bows, understanding that their survival depended on serving their new masters with the same loyalty they’d shown the old.
Alone with his brothers, Stefano finally allowed his mask to slip. His cobalt-blue eyes burned with hunger that had been building for years, his hands clenching into fists as he thought about Leo sleeping peacefully in that cottage, unaware that his entire world had just changed.
“Every six months,” Marco said quietly, his own voice rough with suppressed need.
“Never more. Never less,” Stefano replied, his fingers drumming against the table as memories of those torturous visits flooded back.
Because more would have been dangerous. More would have meant breathing Leo’s intoxicating scent on a regularbasis, and that would have led to claiming him regardless of legal complications. Stefano’s self-control had limits, and prolonged exposure to Leo’s winter jasmine fragrance would have shattered them completely.
“The discipline nearly killed you,” Matteo said, understanding exactly what those visits had cost his cousin.
“Nearly,” Stefano agreed, his voice carrying the weight of suppressed hunger. “But tonight, that discipline pays off.”
Tomorrow he’d begin the process of making that legal reality into physical possession, of teaching that beautiful boy exactly what it meant to belong to alphas who’d been starving for him.
“He doesn’t know,” Marco said, his mind already working through the logistics of claiming an unwilling omega. “About tonight’s arrangements. About what we really are to him.”
“No,” Stefano confirmed, dark anticipation curling through his chest. “Kenji wanted the transition to appear natural rather than predetermined.”
The old man’s strategy had kept Leo compliant while invisible chains solidified around him. For years, the boy had believed himself under generic family protection rather than specific individual ownership. He’d gone about his daily routine unaware that alphas were watching his every move, planning his future, arranging his capture with obsessive attention to detail.
Tonight, those invisible chains became real.
“He’s extraordinary,” Marco said, his voice carrying the shared obsession that had consumed all of them. “Even the photographs don’t capture it completely.”
“No,” Stefano agreed, his mind already moving toward darker considerations. “They don’t.”
Because no photograph could capture the reality of Leo’s presence—the way his scent could reduce grown alphas to base instinct, the defiant intelligence burning behind those impossible amber eyes, the combination of fragility and strengththat made every possessive impulse scream for satisfaction. Leo was beautiful enough to start wars over, and stubborn enough to make claiming him a battle worth fighting.
Years of restraint. Years of wanting what he couldn’t claim. Years of planning exactly how he’d break that beautiful spirit while keeping it intact enough to enjoy.
