"It's not bad. It's just... limiting."
"And being alone is better?"
The question hangs in the air.
Amanda's smile doesn't waver but I see the flash of hurt in her eyes.
"I'm not alone," she says lightly. "I have Vittoria. And Dylan. And my Instagram followers."
"Ah yes. Instagram followers. The pinnacle of human connection."
"Better than being chained to people just because you share DNA."
Valentino leans forward. "Is that what you think family is? Chains?"
"Isn't it?"
"No, bella. Family is?—"
"Oh my God." I interrupt before this turns into something heavier. "Can you two not fight for five minutes?"
They both look at me.
"We're not fighting," Amanda says.
"We're debating," Valentino adds.
"You're giving me a headache."
Amanda grins. "Poor baby. Is the mafia princess stressed?"
"Yes. Actually."
Her expression softens. "I'm sorry. I'm being a bitch."
"You're being Amanda."
"Same thing."
Dmitri
Lucio Corelli sits across from my desk like a man who thinks he still has options.
He doesn't.
Igor stands by the door. Silent. Watching. His hand rests near his weapon but he won't need it.
Not yet.
"Mr. Baganov." Lucio's voice carries false confidence. "I appreciate the meeting, but I'm not sure what this is about."
I lean back in my chair. Let the silence stretch.
This office still smells new. Fresh paint. I bought this building two weeks ago. Legitimate business. Import company.
The kind of place where meetings like this look normal.
"You're not sure." I repeat his words slowly. "Interesting."
