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"I don't trust easily." He picks up the espresso, inhaling its aroma before taking a sip. His eyes remain fixed on the rain-drenched valley beyond the terrace. "But Nico has always been different to us. He is the peacemaker. The one who stayed out of the rivalry between Luca and me."

I move closer, leaning against the terrace railing beside him. "Could it be a trap? Those men at the ruins—"

"Were Luca's, not Nico's." He drains the espresso in one swift motion. "And yes, it could be a trap. Which is why I need your opinion."

The request surprises me. Weeks ago, I was merchandise. Property to be controlled. Now he's asking for my strategic assessment.

"Tell me what he said exactly."

Dante's expression darkens. "He wants to meet. Alone. Says there are things about our mother's death I don't know. Things Luca has discovered that change everything."

I turn to face the valley, watching rain cascade down the hillside, considering the few facts Dante has told me about his family's…dynamics.

"Elena's murder? The Volkovs were blamed, but your father arranged it, right? That's what you've believed all these years."

"Yes."

"And now Nico claims there's more to the story." I turn back to face him. "It's compelling bait for a trap."

"Precisely why I'm suspicious." He sets down the empty cup, moving toward me. "But if there's even a chance he's telling the truth... That if there is something out there that I can use against Luca…"

I can see the conflict in his eyes. The strategic thinker battling the wounded boy who watched his mother die.

"You want to go," I observe. "Despite the risk."

"I need to know," he admits. His hand catches mine, the bandage I wrapped around it still holding tight. "And I need you with me."

My eyebrows rise in surprise. "You're taking me to Rome?"

"I'm taking you everywhere, princess." His grip tightens. "You've proven your value, Francesca. Your insight. Your loyalty. Your fucking intellect. You're… invaluable to me."

Invaluable. How romantic.

"When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow morning. I've arranged accommodations already. Marco and Vincent are already moving to secure the location." His thumb continues its hypnotic path along my pulse point. "Pack whatever you need. Take whatever you want."

Rain drums harder on the terrace roof, forcing us to stand closer to hear each other. The scent of damp earth mingles with his cologne, creating an intoxicating combination.

"Dante, if Nico is setting a trap—"

"Then I'll kill him too." The declaration is cold and so completely emotionless that I have no doubt he actually would. "Brother or not."

But I hear the faintest tremor beneath the certainty. This isn't just another enemy to eliminate. This is the brother who remained neutral in the blood feud. The youngest Ravelli, caught between warring siblings.

A dangerous thought forms in my mind. "Why haven't you ever talked about Nico? Why is it just you and Luca always fighting?"

Dante shrugs, trying to dismiss whatever it is he's hiding about his younger brother.

So I grip his chin and drag his eyes back to mine. "Tell me about Nico. If you want me to come, I need to know everything, Dante."

He turns away, gripping the terrace railing as he stares out at the storm. "Nico is our half-brother. The result of my father's affair with his personal assistant."

I swallow hard at the emotion in Dante's voice.

"Elena knew?"

"Everyone knew. My father made no effort to hide his... indiscretions." Dante's voice carries an edge of bitterness. "But Elena insisted on raising Nico as her own. Said it wasn't the boy's fault who his father fucked behind her back."