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My pulse quickens as her pale eyes sweep the room and settle on me for a moment, before she ascends to her throne.

"Let's begin." Her clipped tone brokers no nonsense. "What's the latest intel on my brother?"

The meeting progresses swiftly. No one dares to interrupt or defy her. When tensions escalate between Tony and Ricky over security concerns, Hadria's arctic stare silences them instantly. "Figure it out," she commands.

And somehow, I know they will.

I'm rapt, studying Hadria's mastery of the room. She truly is a modern monarch.

After an hour, Ilona mentions a man called Johnny the Gentleman visiting from New York. The name elicits a few murmurs of apprehension. I lean towards Mario and whisper "Who's he?" but Lyssa turns in her chair to silence me with a sharp look. I stand up straighter, simmering with frustration at being kept in the dark.

"Keep an eye on him," is all Hadria says, and Ilona nods.

The mood turns grim as talk turns back to Nero. Tony advocates sending a violent warning, but Ricky cautions diplomacy first. Hadria listens silently, then states, "Power is the only languagemy brother understands. But there are many dialects to choose between."

Hadria's eyes flick to Lyssa, a subtle cue I nearly miss. Lyssa turns to me and murmurs, "You've heard enough. Time to go."

But this meeting is too important. I need to know Hadria's plans. "I want to stay," I insist under my breath.

Lyssa's glare cuts me short. "Hadria decides who stays or goes," she hisses. "Don't question it."

Her words hit their mark, silencing my protests. Hadria expects unquestioning loyalty and obedience from those who serve her. What use at all would she have for a defiant captive who doesn't know her proper place?

So I leave the group of trainees and head for the door, trying to keep my head up, but uncomfortably aware of the heat climbing up my neck and into my cheeks.

Lyssa follows me, and when I'm unable to resist a glance back at Hadria holding court over her empire, she is the one to shut the door in my face.

I stand there for a moment, frustrated, but then the door seems to crack open an inch again, and I hear Lyssa's footsteps going back to the table.

It's a clear invitation to eavesdrop, and I take it up at once, pressing up against the other door and listen for all I'm worth.

"Most of you will know who the woman who just left us is," Hadria says, her voice crisp and clear. "For those who don't: that was Aurora Verderosa, the bride I stole from my brother."

"She's a pretty little thing, that one," a man's voice cuts in with a low chuckle. "And a spitfire, I hear." There's a round of coarse laughter.

My hands ball into fists.

"Enough." Hadria's voice slices through the crude chuckles to silence them. "Aurora is not to be touched. She belongs to me. So unless you want to end up like Vinny D'Amelio, you will treat her with respect."

Vinny D'Amelio. Vinny… The name rings a bell, and I search my memory until I place it—the man who leered at me in the safe house apartment, right after Hadria first kidnapped me.

I feel a chill run through me. Vinny is…dead?Killed for disrespecting me? I'm not sure how I feel about that. Death seems an awfully harsh punishment just for being a creep. Though I suppose Hadria deals in harsh punishments.

It's how she got her reputation, after all.

A tense silence follows her pronouncement. I picture Hadria glaring around the table with those wintry eyes.

"I trust I've made myself clear?" she asks softly. It's not really a question.

A chorus of hasty "Yes, Boss" and "Of course, Hades" answers her. No one dares argue. And hearing her defend me so decisively also makes something warm unfurl in my chest, almost despite myself.

That warmth dies a moment later, though, as Hadria goes on.

"Aurora is proof of my dominance over Nero," she states. "She is the prize I snatched from right under his nose."

A murmur of appreciation sweeps the room at this reminder of Hadria's daring and skill.

"And now," Hadria goes on, "that prize of his ismine. I have taken his treasure and made it my own."