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The important thing right now is to get our money transferred. The first thing I did while my soldiers cleaned up the bloody mess we left was send a text to all the family members,advising them to move their money into new accounts, which unfortunately will take days, since many are offshore accounts. Nobody has asked what happened, yet. They know I will fill them in later.

"Where the hell am I going to find a new accountant?" I ask Vito, leaning back in my chair.

"Alfonso wasn't the only one. He was the head of a team, I'm sure?—"

I glare at Vito. I'm not an idiot like Edoardo. I know that Alfonso had a team. At least Vito has the good sense to shut up. "I'll talk to the team. Want me to do that after the meeting?"

"No," I stare into my empty glass. “Do it in the morning. I want you to head home, call Gigi, and make her come too. I want everything tight and locked up."

Vito tenses. "You're expecting trouble?"

"If it's not from the Venezuelans, it'll come from our family. I don't think they will take it too well that I compromised our financials."

I hired Alfonso, and I'm in charge of the books. No matter how I look at this, it comes back to me—my responsibility, my fault. And if I see it that way, the rest of the family sure as fuck will.

"Make sure Gigi and Scarlet are taken care of, and finish the deal with Carlos." I refill my glass.

Vito looks shaken. "You expect not to come back?"

I rub my chin, feeling incredibly tired. My only regret right now is that I can’t fuck Scarlet one more time.

"I don't expect anything; I'm taking precautions," I say. But deep down, I won't be surprised if I don’t walk out of that conference.

As we land, rain hammers against the rooftop, drowning the city in gray. The skyline is a blur, and the streets below are just a mass of moving shadows—the kind of night people disappear in.

Perfect fucking timing.

"Are you sure about this?" Vito leans out of the chopper. He has to yell for me to hear him over the rotors.

I don't answer him. As my second-in-command, he knows everything, even the shit with Grigori. He will finish what I started. To keep my women safe, I need to face our Capo dei Capi and the other capos. Resolutely, I make my way to the entrance, not waiting for the four bodyguards Vito sends with me. I don't give a shit. If it makes him feel better, the poor bastards can die with me.

"Late as always," Edoardo sneers, swirling his whiskey like a smug old king on his throne. "Traffic again?"

I hold his gaze, keeping my expression flat and unreadable. For a second, I let him think he’s won. Then, slowly, I glance down at my blood-stained cuff, like I just remembered it was there.

Edoardo shifts slightly, just enough to tell me he caught that.

"Since you're late already, you should have changed," Edoardo gestures lazily. The same group from just a couple of days ago is assembled again. I meet their gazes, but can't quite ascertain if Edoardo has already filled them in.

"That's what work looks like." Enrico surprises me, leaning back in his chair as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. "You probably wouldn't know it if it hit you in the head."

"Enrico, enough," his father admonishes. Fabrizio's face is strained. I've never seen Enrico and his father in disagreement; they're as tight as my dad and I were.

"Where is Matías?" I glance around the room, pretending to search for someone I already know isn’t here.

Fabrizio Conti’s forehead creases. "Matías as in Matías Rivera?"

"I've already spoken to Matías and soothed the waves you created," Edoardo scoffs, "it wasn't easy."

I arch a brow and stare him down. He is the first to look away. That's right, asshole.

"Will someone fill us in on what the fuck is going on?" Carlos snaps.

I let the silence stretch, then shift my gaze to Edoardo. I want to see if he’ll do it. If he has the balls to say it himself. He flicks his fingers in irritation. "Go ahead, it’s your fuckup after all."

For a brief, satisfying moment, I picture grabbing his hand and cutting it off at the wrist. The vision calms me.

"Yesterday, Matías's Conquistadores snatched Alfonso Romano and his wife in broad daylight from their friends' house." I fill in the others, making sure to make eye contact with each of them, letting the weight of my words settle in.