I’m the head of this family. I should’ve quit pandering to our baby brother’s demands long ago. If only it wasn’t easier to say yes to him. To tell myselfjust one more company. One more hostile takeover. One more ruined empire.
I guess I got a taste for revenge, too.
“How do we fix this?” Miko steps closer.
“I’ll figure something out.” I always do.
I’m the one who cleans up the mess. The brother who hides bloodstains and burns evidence. It’s what I’ve done since mysiblings were born. Lied to teachers. Covered up street fights. Paid off police.
This isn’t any different. Just higher stakes. Bigger bodies. So much more to lose.
Miko exhales loudly. “You realize he’ll go after Isla, right? And he won’t go easy on her like you have. She’ll learn the hard way that we’re not to be denied.”
I lean back an inch, adjusting my cuffs with a calm I don’t fucking feel. “I’ll handle her.”
“You can handle her all you like, but you know there’s no stopping Eli once triggered. He’ll want to shut her down himself, and there’ll be no coming back from the way he does it.”
I fight the building tension in my limbs. The choke of restraint.
I have so much more to deal with than my fucking baby brother.
“He doesn’t touch her.” I glower. “She’s mine to manage. I’ll go over her head to Philip and make sure she’s cut off at the knees.”
This is personal, after all.
She’s not trying to hurt the Cavallo name. She’s trying to hurtme.
Every strike she lands is calculated to make me bleed. Publicly. Personally. Permanently.
Her actions are in direct response to how I rejected her two years ago, her attack reeking of bruised ego and unresolved history.
“They owe us, Raffa.” Miko holds my stare. “There are far better ways to shut her down than snitching to her father. Why not beat Eli to the punch and tell her?—”
“No.” I cut him off, my nostrils flaring. “I know how to handle her.”
He rolls his eyes. “I think I’ve seen this film before…”
I steeple my hands in front of my mouth and mentally count to three. “We’re done here, brother.”
Miko scoffs. “You’re protecting her.”
I don’t take the bait. Don’t flinch. “I saidwe’re done.”
I drop my gaze to my laptop, slide a finger over the trackpad, and shut down Isla’s video. “Tell Eliseo to have the press conference scrubbed from the internet. And make it clear—CrossPoint is not to be fucked with.”
Chapter
Five
ISLA
I reachthe front stairs of my father’s West Village brownstone, the adrenaline from this morning’s press conference reigniting now that I have to explain myself.
I knock once, then let myself in with my childhood key.
“It’s only me.” I leave my purse on the entryway table, the familiar creak of the floorboard beneath my heel sending a flicker of nostalgia through my chest. I spent my adolescence here. These rooms are filled with perfect memories and heart-warming comfort. “Dad?”
There’s no response, but I know he’s home.
