Wood paneled walls surrounded us, closing in tighter with each of my carefully measured breaths. I wanted to take Giana’s hand in mine and give it a reassuring squeeze, but I knew Giorgio’s black eyes would immediately take note of the small show of weakness. Giana was fragile enough as it was, almost trembling in the burly guard’s shadow; she didn’t need any sign of comfort from me to signal further vulnerability.

“Dante, thank you for coming,” Father greeted as the impossibly handsome, disconcerting man entered the study behind me. I felt his heat at my back, still a little too close for polite company.

I released a small breath when he strolled past me, and the sense that I was being watched like prey finally eased. His focus was on my father now, and I nearly sagged with relief; I hadn’t realized how his attention had put all my survival instincts on high alert, and now that his intense gaze shifted, I felt almost lightheaded at the release.

Dante tipped his head in an almost imperceptible nod, the barest show of submission. “I’m always happy to accept an invitation from you, Giuseppe.”

My father leaned forward on his elbows, his sharp gaze skewering the younger man. Dante didn’t so much as flinch. He met Father’s bone-quaking stare head on.

“Tommaso is dying,” Father said bluntly, cutting right to the chase with his usual battering ram approach to negotiations. “As you know, he expects his son, Luca, to take his place at the head of our family.”

The barest hint of a shadow flickered across Dante’s stubble-shaded jaw, so fast I might have imagined it.

“You know why you’re here,” Father continued. “Luca isn’t strong enough to hold off the Russians when they come circling in the wake of Tommaso’s death.”

“Agreed,” Dante replied coolly, dark brows lowering slightly over his keen eyes.

“And that little shit will get rid of me as soon as he can manage to stick a knife in my back.”

I jolted at that revelation. I was mostly kept apart from family politics. I knew my father was as close as a brother to Tommaso, but I’d had no idea that Tommaso’s son would turn on him at the first opportunity. What had Father done to incite Luca’s ire?

“You want an alliance,” Dante said it like it was a foregone conclusion, a fact that had been established before we’d stepped into this meeting.

Father tipped his head in acknowledgement, but the direction of his gaze flicked to Giana and me. I stiffened, unease coiling in the pit of my stomach. Why were we here? There was no reason for my sister and me to silently witness this meeting; we certainly hadn’t been called here to offer our opinions or input.

“I’m backing you,” Father announced, his attention spearing Dante once again. “I will keep my position. I will be your consigliere, and you will take control of the organization. I’m too old to be the boss. My health is already failing. You’re strong enough to push back the Bratva and even take more territory from them. You have the instincts and temperament for the job. You came up from nothing, and you’re our most powerful capo now. I choose you to be Tommaso’s successor, even if he thinks his son should come to power after his death.” His eyes lifted in a brief prayer, as though asking for forgiveness for betraying his closest friend’s wishes.