I poured espresso in my office, standing at the window. The city was waking up—delivery trucks, early commuters, the machinery of normal life grinding forward.
Nothing about my life was normal anymore. Not that it ever really had been. But for a moment, with Paola… I couldn’t allow myself to imagine a future where I, or anyone connected to me, wasn’t under threat. Not as long as I was the Don.
Piero entered without knocking. "What do we do with her after she's patched up?"
"Keep her here. Under guard. Until we figure out our next move."
"She's a liability. Viktor knows we have her and your father-in-law is demanding a meeting. The families are already questioning your judgment."
I drained the espresso, welcomed the burn. "I know."
"Then why keep her? Paola saved her, yes. But that means something to Paola, not to our enemies. We could send her back to Europe–back to wherever she’s been hiding."
"No. We make it mean something to them too."
Piero's silence spoke volumes. He disagreed but wouldn't push. Not yet.
I checked my watch: 6:45 a.m. Giovanni had demanded we arrive by nine. That left less than two hours, and the Hamptons was just as far away.
Paola appeared in the doorway, changed into soft pants and a sweater that made her look younger, more vulnerable. Beautiful and complicated and mine.
"Are you going?" she asked.
"To see your father? Yes. I have to."
"Let me come with you."
"No. He specifically said alone. And after last night, and this morning—" I gestured vaguely at everything. "You need rest."
"I need answers." Her voice sharpened. "He denied knowing about the substitution at the anniversary celebration. Threw me under the bus to save himself. I want to hear him explain that to my face. I want to know who’s plan this really was."
Her anger was justified. Also dangerous. "Paola—"
"I'm coming with you, Cesare. Don't try to protect me from my own father."
I recognized that tone. She'd made up her mind. And honestly? I didn't want to face Giovanni alone either.
"Fine. But I do the talking. You observe. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
Before we left, I gathered my inner circle one more time—Piero, Giulio, Rocco, Matteo. They assembled in my office, faces showing the same exhaustion I felt.
"Status on the police situation?" I asked Rocco.
"Handled. Called in favors with our contacts in the department. The shots fired call is being reported as a false alarm. No investigation."
"Viktor?"
"Didn't file a complaint. Probably doesn't want police attention on his building either."
One less problem. A small mercy.
"The documents?"
Rocco produced the metal briefcase Bianca had brought. "Everything's here. I'll go through them systematically, determine what's real and what's forged."
"Priority one. I need to know exactly what leverage Viktor thinks he had."
