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Eli and Micah leave to execute their orders while Seb takes a seat at the side of my desk. Not five minutes pass before there’s a knock at my door.

It swings open with a soft creak before I get the chance to tell him to enter. I guess I should be grateful he even knocked. Nicolo strides in like he owns the place. Three of his guards follow, their dark suits a stark contrast against the light wood paneling of my walls.

My fingers twitch beneath my desk, inches from my holstered gun. Beside me, Seb shifts his weight. We’re both on edge as I am.

“Nicolo,” I say, keeping my voice calm despite the rage building in my chest. “Do you make it a habit to crash wedding ceremonies you weren’t invited to?”

He smiles, all teeth and no warmth. “Come now, Ezekiel. Is that any way to treat family?” His accent, thicker than I remember, wraps around each word like silk hiding steel.

“We stopped being family when you let me and Seb walk away.” I lean back in my chair, projecting a calmness I don’t feel. “That was the deal. We stay out of New York, and you stay out of Columbus.”

Nicolo settles into one of the leather chairs across from my desk, crossing his legs with casual elegance. His guards remain standing, their hands conspicuously close to their weapons.

“Ah, but you see, that deal was predicated on certain … understandings.” His dark eyes bore into mine. “Like keeping your operations clean and quiet. Not stirring up trouble with other families.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No?” He raises an eyebrow. “Then perhaps we should discuss Giovanni Costa’s unfortunate demise. I hear he was found in quite a state.”

My jaw clenches. The bastard knows exactly what happened, but he’s playing his usual games. “If you have something to say, Nicolo, say it. Otherwise, this conversation is over.”

Nicolo leans forward, his movements as graceful and lethal as a viper preparing to strike. “Let me be clear, Ezekiel. Giovanni Costa’s death has created … complications. Alessandro is demanding blood.”

“And what does that have to do with me?” My voice is comprised, though my pulse quickens at the mention of blood. Eve and Leo flash through my mind.

“Don’t play coy. It doesn’t suit you.” Nicolo’s accent thickens with irritation. “You married a cop today. A detective, no less. One who’s been investigating the Costa family.”

My fingers curl into fists beneath the desk. “My marriage is none of your concern.”

“Everything in this city is my concern.” He spreads his hands in a gesture that might appear diplomatic if not for the cold calculation in his eyes. “Alessandro believes your new wife knows too much. He wants her eliminated.”

The rage that floods my system is instant and overwhelming. “Touch her, and I’ll burn everything you’ve built to the ground.” The words come out in a low growl.

Nicolo’s lips curl into a knowing smile. “Careful, Ezekiel. That sounded like a threat.” He stands, adjusting his perfectly tailored suit. “Consider this a courtesy call. Keep your wife in check, or I won’t be able to guarantee her safety. Even from across state lines.”

Seb shifts beside me, the tension emanating off him. One wrong move could turn this powder keg into a bloodbath.

“You made your point,” I say through gritted teeth. “Now get out of my house.”

Nicolo smiles, an evil grin that says I better watch my back. But he doesn’t argue further. He leaves with his men, the tensionin my office remaining thick enough to choke on. I rise from my desk, unable to sit still any longer. His threat presses against my chest like a physical thing.

“Well, that went about as well as expected,” Seb mutters, running a hand through his hair. “What’s the play now?”

I move to the window, watching Nicolo’s black SUV disappear down my driveway. “I want eyes on Eve and Leo twenty-four seven.” My reflection in the glass looks haggard, the events of the day etched into the lines around my eyes. “And get me everything you can on Alessandro’s current operations. If he’s planning something, I want to know about it.”

“Already on it,” Seb says, his phone in hand as he types rapidly.

The clock on my wall shows it’s well past midnight. Upstairs, my new wife sleeps in her bed—not our marriage bed—alone on her wedding night. The thought twists something in my gut.

“Get some rest,” I tell Seb. “Tomorrow, we start planning. No one threatens what’s mine.”

Seb leaves me alone with my thoughts and the lingering scent of Nicolo’s invasion. I pour myself two fingers of whiskey, but don’t drink it. Instead, I stare at the amber liquid, watching it catch the light.

Eve. My wife. The word still feels foreign on my tongue. I married her to protect her, but now that protection has painted an even bigger target on her back.

I down the whiskey in one burning swallow and head upstairs. Whether I join her in bed or not, I need to check on her. Need to see with my own eyes that she’s safe.

At least for tonight.