"Damiano—" Lucrezia starts, but I silence her with a look.
"Not now, Lucrezia."
Her mouth snaps shut, hurt flashing in her eyes. I feel a pang of guilt but push it away. I can't think clearly with all of them staring at me, waiting for answers I don't have.
"I'll be in my office," I announce. "Don't disturb me unless it's an emergency."
I wake to sunlight streaming through the curtains I forgot to close. My head pounds—the result of too much whiskey after dinner. The nightmares came again, but fragmented, less vivid. Small mercies.
I shower, letting scalding water wash over me. I find myself thinking about Easton's proposition. About his daughter.
By the time I make my way downstairs, the others are already seated for breakfast. Lucrezia picks at apastry, while Enzo and Alessio discuss something in low voices. They fall silent when I enter.
"Good morning," Lucrezia says cautiously, watching me.
I pour myself coffee, black and strong enough to cut through the remnants of last night's whiskey. The familiar bitter taste grounds me.
"I've been thinking," I say after taking a long sip.
All three of them straighten, attention laser-focused on me. The power in that simple reaction isn't lost on me—my family hangs on my every word, waiting for direction.
"About?" Enzo prompts when I don't immediately continue.
I set my cup down. "About Easton's proposal."
Lucrezia's eyebrows rise, surprise evident in her expression. Alessio's face remains impassive, but I catch the slight narrowing of his eyes.
"I think we might consider this opportunity," I say slowly, measuring each word. "Not necessarily as Easton intends, but on our terms."
"You're considering the marriage?" Lucrezia asks, unable to hide her shock.
I lean back in my chair. "I'm considering keeping my enemies closer. If Easton wants to place his daughter in our household, perhaps we should let him."
Alessio runs his thumb along his bottom lip, thinking. "You want to use her to watch Easton."
"Exactly," I nod. "We'd have someone connected to Easton under our roof, someone who might unintentionally reveal his true intentions."
"A hostage without being a hostage," Enzo says with a slow smile spreading across his face.
"If we do this," I continue, "we'd have eyes on Easton's daughter all the time. Every phone call, every visitor, every movement."
"That's..." Lucrezia hesitates, searching for the right word. "Calculating."
"It's smart," Enzo counters. "Easton thinks he's playing us, but we turn his own piece against him."
I take another sip of coffee. "This isn't a decision I'm making lightly. But Easton's sudden interest in an alliance through marriage? There's more to it than business advantages."
"You still don't trust him," Alessio states.
"Not for a fucking second," I confirm. "But sometimes the only way to understand the trap is to step into it carefully, with your eyes open."
Enzo clears his throat, swirling his coffee thoughtfully. "The strange thing is, Byron rarely appears with any family member in public. Not in society events, charity galas, business functions—nothing."
This catches my attention. "What about this daughter?"
"That's the thing," Enzo sets his cup down with a soft clink against the saucer. "I've heard she exists, but that's about it."
"Dig," I say simply. "I want to know everything about this woman before I make any decisions. Education, friends, habits, where she shops—everything."
