I lower myself down onto one of the chairs. A glass slides over to me and I look up at Cassandra, who smiles at me. Way too fucking innocent for this club. Fuck. What was Storm thinking? “Tell me now.”

“It’s about your commitments to the Cosa Nostra. They want you where your father was.”

I swig the whiskey in my mouth, hissing when it burns down my throat, leaving notes of honey and smoke behind. “Figured that was coming.”

“I know you said the MC is your life now, but son…”

“I know,” I answer, giving him what he wants while looking up at the ceiling. “I know. I just need time to train Khaos to take my place. I can’t be leaving them, and I can’t leave Royce and Lion in the dark about it either. I’ll need to fill them in.” Usually mafia business is to be left just in-house. No one outside.

“I agree. They need to know. The fact is, Wolf isn’t a La Rosa, he’s an Amante. Your family isn’t lost anymore, Vittiorio.” I sink the rest of the drink in one go.

“Alright. Talk soon.” Hanging up, I flick through my messages. I pause when I find the Instagram logo on my phone. I wonder. I tap it open and type in her name. It comes up first. I blink at her username. Uncut. I know she means gems, but it still irks me for a reason I’m not touching.

Her profile is public, so I click on it. Twelve thousand followers, following six. I chuckle, shaking my head. “Always a fucking snob.”

I click on the last photo she uploaded. A selfie of her holding up the phone in the driver’s seat of her Aston Martin, wearing a tight little black dress with her tits spilling out and hair flattened straight. I roll my eyes when I see the girl beside her is Betty. They’re both dressed to go out, and I look at the date it was posted.

Forty-six minutes ago.

I narrow my eyes and fight with myself not to open the comments. Scrolling to the next photo, it’s a photo of her and Wolf. My heart slows in my chest and I fight back the urge to not get in my car and get them both right now. Wolf is laughing in her arms but looking directly at the camera and whoever is holding it. Ruby is blowing raspberries into his neck. They look like they’re in the snow, both dressed in ski gear. That was posted a couple months ago. I scroll to the next one and my blood turns cold.