I nod, acknowledging the chaos without a word. Rafael moves to the wardrobe, pulling out a pair of pants and a shirt.
If I’m going to face Don Fernando, I should at least look decent.
I slip into the pants, still fastening the buttons when the door flies open with a loud bang.
Don Fernando strides in, exuding authority.
“Out,” he commands Rafael.
Rafael glances at me, waiting for my signal. With a subtle nod from me, he leaves the room without a word.
Don Fernando smirks. “I could have his throat slit for disobeying my orders.”
I match his smirk, unbothered, and drop into the chair. My shirt is still unbuttoned as I take another long sip of my coffee.
Don Fernando crosses the room and yanks the curtains open. Sunlight floods in, stabbing at my eyes like knives. I squeeze them shut, and the pounding in my skull intensifies.
“But I won’t,” he goes on, his voice cold, laced with disdain. “For you. Just like all the other favors I’ve done for you. And yet, on the night of my eldest son’s wedding, you disgrace me. You get drunk like a street thug and make a spectacle of yourself.”
His anger is evident, but there’s something else layered beneath it: disappointment.
As always, he’s immaculate. His tailored suit fits perfectly, his clean-shaven face betraying no weakness, his presence dominating the room effortlessly. Even his cologne hits the room before he does.
I rub my eyes and let out a mocking laugh.
“Tell your precious crown prince I’m sorry, real heartfelt. And let him know I’ll make it up to him at his next wedding. We both know it won’t be long before he’s single again.”
For a long moment, he just looks at me. Then, slipping his hand into his pocket, he turns on his heel, his back to me, and gazes out at the sprawling view of Rome.
“When are you gonna stop this Hamlet bullshit? Accept it—Carlo’s where he belongs. And so are you.”
The mention of Carlo sets my blood on fire.
I jump to my feet, my entire body shaking with fury. My voice comes out low, a guttural growl as I snarl, “My father was the eldest son of Don Francesco.Yourolder brother. The rightful capo of this family. And I’m his only son.”
He turns on his heel again, composed as always. Calm, but with a deadly edge.
“Your father, my older brother, eldest son of Don Francesco, was killed in the war. After that,Itook over. When I’m gone, Carlo gets it all.”
“When a king dies, his son doesn’t lose the crown just because he’s young. It waits for him. Simple.”
To my surprise, he throws his head back and laughs—deep, full, and unrestrained. It’s rare to see Don Fernando like this; I can count the moments on one hand.
When the laughter fades, his gaze locks onto mine. In the depths of his dark eyes, so much like my own, I see the flicker of flames, embers smoldering beneath the surface.
When he speaks again, his voice is low and brimming with menace.
“Oh, Tony. If I didn’t know better, I’d call you a fool. In this life, we don’t play by royal rules. We live by the jungle. Predator rules.”
He walks up to me, close enough to invade my personal space. He’s testing my boundaries, daring me to back down.
But I don’t move.
I won’t step back.
I’m not afraid of him.
“You know what a lion does when he takes a new pride? Kills every last cub. Slaughters them. Then fucks the lionesses till the old blood’s gone.”
