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"Of course it is." I smile thinly. "And I'm going to spring the trap."

I turn to Alessio, authority settling over my shoulders like armor. "Double the security on my wing. No one enters or leaves without direct authorization from me. Keep Bianca safe until I return."

"And if she tries to leave?" Alessio asks, knowing my wife's tendency toward defiance.

"She won't." The memory of her hand on her stomach, of the life growing within her, steadies my voice. "But if she does, you have my permission to use whatever means necessary to keep her inside these walls."

I won't be gone long. Just long enough for them to think they've got me right where they want me.

Then, I'll hit.

I retrieve my phone from the desk, the recording of Vito's betrayal momentarily forgotten in the face of this new threat. The confrontation with my father will wait. It's waited for fifteen fucking years… what's another night.

In my eyes, the old man's deliberate absence only confirms his guilt. I'll return to finish what I started with Vito.

His day of reckoning is merely postponed, not canceled.

As I stride toward the door, Nico falls into step beside me. "What about Father? When he returns—"

"Ifhe returns," I correct him.

"Of course, yes," Nico shrugs.

"If you see him, you tell him nothing," I order. "This stays between us until I've assessed the Volkovs' claims and dealt with Dante's dishonor."

Nico nods, a rare moment of solidarity between brothers who've spent years circling each other with careful distance. "Matteo should be informed. He will protect the family, unless of course…"

"Unless he is with Vito."

Nico nods, and a silence passes between us. The lines of alliances are blurring. This is all getting to fucked up. Even by Ravelli standards.

"Matteo is loyal to the crest. Find him and bring him to my wing," I order. "I want his eyes on Bianca while I'm gone."

The decision made, I move with renewed purpose through the corridors that have witnessed the rise and fall of Ravelli power for generations. The mansion that will soon see a new Don crowned—me, with Bianca at my side, our child the next heir in a bloodline purified by fire.

I return to our wing briefly before departing, need driving me to see her one last time before walking into what might well be a carefully orchestrated ambush.

Bianca waits in our bedroom, still wrapped in nothing but a silk robe, her wet hair drying around her shoulders. Her eyes widen at my expression, instantly alert to the shift in atmosphere.

"Did you do it? Is he—" She rises from the bed, eyes wide and alert. She looks at my clean clothes and the assumption in her eyes is correct. "What's going on?"

I gather her against me with more gentleness than I thought myself capable of. One hand splays across her lower back, the other tangling in her damp hair as I breathe in her scent.

"Vito wasn't there, my love. And now, the Volkovs have requested a meeting," I tell her, voice low against her temple. "Tonight."

She stiffens in my arms, attempting to pull back. I hold her tighter, unwilling to release her just yet.

"This is about me," she concedes, breathing heavily against my chest.

"They claim it's about your father."

"But you're not so sure?"

I shake my head, holding her close. "I don't know what to think at the moment. All I know is I need to see their demands out and deal with Vito after."

"I'm coming with you," she declares, defiance vibrating through her slender frame.

"No." The word leaves no room for argument. "You will remain here, under guard. Matteo is under orders and will stay with you until I return."