Page 109 of Brutal Heir

He shrugged. “How the fuck should I know?”

My grandfather had insisted the Diamantis model themselves after traditional royal families, and my father had followed suit.

As the firstborn, I was destined to run the company.

Father had forced Rafaello into the Italian Armed Forces, although he retired this year after turning thirty-five and reaching the rank of Major.

And Father had forced Arcangelo into the church.

The fact that the man didn’t have a drop of spiritual blood in his body was of no concern to the family.

With our wealth and connections, Arcangelo was not only assigned to the Vatican, but had been elevated to increasingly high-ranking positions within the secretive and powerful Vatican Bank.

Shaking my head as I laughed, I turned back toward the dummy and resumed my position. “Did you get the file Benedict Cavalieri prepared?”

I delivered a botta lunga, the blade striking the dummy’s torso with surgical precision, followed by a quick disimpegnoto to avoid an imaginary parry.

Arcangelo smirked, adopting a fencer’s guardia. “How is our good friend Benedict?”

Rolling my shoulders, I executed a seamless riposta after a feigned attack. “Still determined to cut your throat if you come anywhere near his new bride.”

Benedict didn’t take kindly to Arcangelo’s flirtatious attitude toward Liliana when they'd first met.

The loyalty between the Diamantis and the Cavalieris could never be questioned, but that didn’t mean Benedict wouldn’t hack Arcangelo’s dick off if he ever tried something.

Arcangelo pushed out his lower lip in a mock pout. “Oh no, does that mean I’m off the Christmas card list?”

I snapped a coupé at the dummy’s head. “Just don’t bitch at me when you aren’t invited to the winery for the next wedding or harvest festival.”

I knew that would hit a nerve.

Since our own family was about as cuddly as a nest of vipers, my siblings and I cherished the warmth and love we found at the Cavalieri gatherings.

He swiped the foil in the air several times, performing exaggerated movimenti circolari. “Fine. I’ll make nice with Benedict and stay away from that delectable little morsel of corrupted innocence he married.”

I stretched out my arms and bowed to him. “That’s all I’m asking, brother.”

He bowed back, his foil held loosely in his hand.

Turning my attention back to the tactical exercises, I struck the dummy with a precise series of botte dritte, working up a sweat as my blade found its mark again and again.

Leaning against the far wall, Arcangelo watched me for several minutes before asking, “Speaking of corrupted innocence, are we going to talk about your latest…acquisition?”

Facing him, I yanked at the side zipper on my padded jacket and ripped open the flap to cool down. “You’re not going to give me shit about Sabrina too. I’ve already heard enough from Rafaello and Arabella.”

He raised his palms. “Hell no. All’s fair in love and war…and business.”

I pulled off my glove and reached for the crystal carafe of water set on a silver tray by my thoughtful staff.

After pouring a glass and taking a sip, I asked, “So you don’t have any objections to how I plan to handle the judge situation given the new investigations he’s started?”

The moment I arrived in Italy, I had gotten word that the judge had hauled several House of Diamanti executives in for questioning. Questioning that apparently took place in the middle of the night at an undisclosed location.

I wasn’t worried. My people were loyal.

Still, it meant the judge was escalating his feud with us.

It was only a matter of time before it became public knowledge that the House of Diamanti was being investigated as an organized crime syndicate.