Gia cleared her throat as Roman walked out of the study. What Roman felt at seeing me, I didn’t know. He’d long ago learned to conceal any emotion from his face. But when his gaze fell on Gia, I saw the infinitesimal change in his eyes, that spark of surprise.

No. Of shock.

“Dominic,” he said, extending his hand to mine, drawing me in for a brief, cool hug. “I know Franco would be glad you came.”

“You’re looking well, Uncle.” He did. His suit was more expensive than any he used to wear when he wasn’t head of the family, and I didn’t miss the Benedetti family ring on his finger. As if he had any right.

“I didn’t realize you’d be bringing a guest.”

He turned to Gia. He studied her closely but revealed nothing of how he felt.

“Gianna Castellano,” Roman said, addressing her.

His mouth moved into a smile. It almost touched his eyes.

“I think you were this big when I last saw you.” He gestured to his waist. “Franco would be pleased to have you here.”

Gia shook his hand, betraying nothing even as I felt her tense beside me.

“You know my uncle Roman?” I asked her.

Her gaze flickered to mine, perhaps remembering what I’d said I’d do to him the night I made her promise to pull the trigger on me when it was over. When she had her revenge.

She cleared her throat and returned her gaze to his. “I vaguely recall the name, but I’m sorry, I—”

“I’d be surprised if you remembered me. You were a child,” Roman filled in.

“Did you know my father?” she asked.

“I did.”

I could see from Roman’s face he did not expect or welcome Gia’s questions.

“And my brother, Mateo?” she pressed.

I released Gia’s waist to take her hand, squeezing a warning.

“Yes. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“And I’m sorry for yours,” she managed.

Roman nodded. “I’ll have a room made up—”

“She’ll stay with me. Have the maid send up extra towels,” I ordered.

For the briefest moment, Roman’s eyes went flat and dark, and for the first time, I thought I glimpsed the real Roman. But I’d always spoken this way to him. I’d always felt superior and never hid the fact.

“Of course,” he said. A couple walked up the front steps just then, and he excused himself. The four of us stepped to the side, each of us watching every move anyone made.

“Did you bring your brood?” I asked Salvatore, not hearing any children running around.

“No. They’re staying with Isabella and Luke.”

“I don’t like this,” Lucia whispered loud enough in Salvatore’s direction for Gia and I to hear.