“Bambina, you have to learn to care for your wolf.”
Without a handle on her internal instinct, Isadora was slated for a life of hiding until she reached maturity and control. And the way she was going, her wolf and body were much older than her mentality.
That could be very, very dangerous.
“Hide.”
Cazzo! No. There was no way in hell his balls could take another shot from her.
“How about we do something else? What about we play a board game?”
Safe. Easy. And no fast-moving parts he had to worry about. Arturo had a meeting with Adonis to work out a regular schedule of using his child park exclusively for Isadora once a week so she could enjoy herself. The expense would be wild, but nothing was too good for his little Isadora.
Carlo could understand. At one time, Isadora’s namesake had been treated the same way. She was beautiful, a Sicilian beauty who’d been raised in the life of Famiglia and knew how to navigate the small political battles of parties, warring clans, and even assuaging shifter ire.
She’d been born and bred to take the role next to an Alpha.
Her love for Arturo had been sure, steady, even if their match had been arranged. She may not have been the mate of his soul, but she’d taken his heart. Sure, she feared what would become of them if Arturo met his mate, but that hadn’t stopped them from making a family anyway. Until it was all ripped away in a senseless murder. They still didn’t know who the responsible party was.
“No,” Isadora answered.
Figures.
Carlo wouldn’t be so lucky to get her to relax and sit pretty on the floor, but he had to do something. Isadora bounced from foot to foot, a mass of energy and eagerness—something he recognized in prepubescent wolves.
I got it!
“Stay here, piccolo. I’ve got a surprise for you. Can you do that for me?”
Isadora nodded, strands of her green hair sliding over her forehead. “Yes.”
Carlo nodded at a guard standing next to the door—silently ordering the man to keep an eye on her—and went in search of Arturo in his office. The dark mahogany wood floors and walls made his wolf feel like he was in a den, something Arturo did on purpose. Hallways were tight and close to help create these feelings, lower lighting and darkened corners.
Others may have seen this as a danger, but the wolves of the Moretti Pack thrived on violence and order. This was natural. They were the shadows in the darkness, the things that went bump in the night.
“Hide!”
Carlo chuckled, feeling sorry for the guard if he decided to play that game with their resident sociopath. Isadora fit right in.
“Excellent. I can have every Tuesday then, and it won’t interfere with your business. Bene, you will be paid every week in advance at our usually drop of point. Grazie, Adonis.”
Carlo slipped into the office just as Arturo ended the call. “Alpha.”
Arturo sat back, his black leather chair creaking to accommodate his weight. Carlo had been in this space so many times before. He’d made the decision to end a life here, fight wars, and more. The large glass and stained wood desk separating him and his Alpha was new.
The last one was shattered when they’d … disciplined a wolf recently.
“Where is my little one?”
“Playing Nutcracker with Isaacs.”
Arturo guffawed. “The cruelty in that one will do her well later.”
“But will it kill us now?”
“This life is about the strong. Dominic and Zoey want her to be softer, and I understand a male having to satisfy his mate, but do you remember Dominic before? The way he obliterated his opponents in the Arena? If I was the sharp blade to cut out any opposition, he was the blunt instrument to keep them in fear of me. And Romano? He was right with him.”
Carlo couldn’t deny that at all. “They were some of our best Enforcers.”
