Page 48 of His Eternal Claim

“Exactly.”

A pulse jumps in Don Ricci’s throat. He’s old, barely able to walk without the help of his damn guards, but he’s smart too.

But he’s not much of a threat to me. He’ll die either way. This Syndicate will rot. Vane fucking Davenport will have no say in this matter as long as I am the last living heir of the Cosa Nostra.

None of them is thick-skulled.

One looks down at his glass. Another finds the marble floor fascinating.

I tap my fingers once against the armrest.

“Which means,” I susurrate, “either someone inside betrayed us…” I pause, let it breathe, and paranoia sinks its claws in. “…or someone powerful enough to walk through Vitale security exists.”

No one speaks.

Because both answers end in blood.

And everyone in this room knows exactly who spills the blood best.

Me.

“But Elio Vitale is alive.” Vane intervenes.

I don’t know what that bastard wants, except maybe to test how far he can push me with that ugly face and that damn nerve of his. He might be the most infuriating Motherfucker I’ve ever met.

“And as his eldest son…” My ring clicks against the table. “…until further notice, I speak for this family and the Cosa Nostra.”

There are no objections.

An objection requires courage.

And courage tends to disappear around me.

Except another Motherfucker. Massimo Bianchi. The bastard sits across from me like he owns the fucking country.

Because in many ways… he does.

He folds his hands over his knee.

“Temporary authority,” he mutters with the same calmness as me. “Italy still answers to me, Vitale.”

I stare at him. “Do they now?”

Massimo’s jaw ticks, but I ignore his tactics to fuel me and focus on the matter at hand.

“Three days from now…” My voice echoes. “The wedding proceeds.”

Three days.

Three fucking days until the wedding. Crystella will become my wife.

My Father getting shot changes nothing.

If anything, it speeds things up.

I button my jacket, staring straight at Ricci’s eyes. “If anyone here has a problem…” I shift my attention directly at Massimo. Then smile wider. “…speak now.”

“And what about revenge?” Vane interrupts.