Her eyes widened. "Miss Paola. I didn't know you were—"
"Where's my father?" Paola cut her off. No patience for pleasantries.
"In his study. He's expecting you."
We walked through the house and I noticed details: outdated furniture, paintings that should be in storage, the subtle signs of a declining fortune.
We reached the study. Giovanni's voice called, "Come in."
He sat behind his desk like a king on a throne. Or tried to appear so.
But I saw through it: the man was scared, desperate, grasping for control he no longer possessed.
He didn't offer us seats. This wasn't a friendly meeting.
"You've made a mess, Cesare," he started without preamble. "The anniversary celebration was a disaster. Viktor Kozlov is circling. The families are questioning your fitness to lead."
"And you made it worse by denying you knew about the substitution."
"I was protecting myself. As any smart man would."
"You threw your daughter to the wolves. Both of them, actually."
Giovanni's eyes flicked to Paola, cold and dismissive. "Paola understands business. Sometimes sacrifices must be made."
Paola's voice turned to ice. "I understand you're a coward who values his reputation more than his children."
Giovanni's jaw tightened. "Watch your tone, girl."
"Or what? You'll force me into another marriage? Drug me again? Oh wait—you already denied doing that publicly."
"I did what was necessary," Giovanni said flatly. "Bianca came to me the night before the wedding. Hysterical. Said she couldn't go through with it, that someone was threatening her. That she'd die if she married you."
“Viktor.”
Giovanni grunted in assent. His lips twisted into a bitter grimace. “He’d already gotten to her long before then. I tried to tell her that without a strategic marriage she’d never be able to achieve the life she wanted. She told me she’d run anyway. And that she had a plan.”
My hands clenched. "So you drugged Paola instead."
"I let Bianca talk me into drugging her, yes. We had hours before the ceremony. The alliance couldn't fall apart—Viktor was already watching for weakness. I needed a Lombardo daughter at that altar." His expression hardened. "Paola was the logical choice. Identical twins. No one would know the difference."
"Except I'm not Bianca," Paola said, her voice shaking with rage. "I had a life. A career. Friends. You took all of that from me."
"You had a mediocre life teaching art to children. Now you're the wife of the most powerful Don in New York. I gave you an upgrade."
The confrontation crackled with years of resentment and fresh betrayal. I watched, let Paola have this moment. She'd earned it.
"I didn't call you here for a family therapy session," Giovanni snapped. "I called because I have a solution to your Viktor problem."
My interest sharpened. "What kind of solution?"
"Viktor wants territory. Power. Give it to him."
"We've been through this. I'm not surrendering half my empire."
"Notyourempire. Mine." Giovanni moved to his desk, pulled out documents. "I'm retiring. Effective immediately. My businesses, my territory, my connections—I'm signing them over."
"To who?" Though I suspected.
