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Nico’s livid gaze cuts to Sophie, who leans up and whispers something in his ear. Whatever she says has Nico’s eyes darting to the ceiling before he lets out a long, aggravated sigh and slides into the booth across from us, fingers knitted on the table. Sophie follows suit, a small smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

Looks like I’m not the only one with a wrapped pinkie here.

“You have five minutes.” Nico’s voice carries the kind of authority that could strip the air from your lungs.

“She’ll need at least twenty, Vitelli.” Cade gestures for me to sit, then plants himself beside me, throwing an arm over the back of our bench seat.

It’s such a simple, lazy posture, but it opens his entire side to me, and his heat wraps around me like an embrace. It’s the most protected—guarded I’ve ever felt in my entire life, a position I never knew I needed.

I melt into Cade’s heat, drawing strength from his presence. He makes the weight of Nico’s hostility a little easier to bear while I negotiate my family’s way back to life.

Cade’s done everything to get me here. The rest is down to me.

I meet Nico’s arctic blue stare and channel every ounce of Romano steel in my blood.

“Don Vitelli,” I begin in Italian, my voice steadier than my racing heart. “The Romanos have always been key players in the Outfit.” I lean forward slightly, holding his gaze. “Mistakes have been made, and we’ve paid the price a hundred times over. But there’s always a time to let go of old grudges and forge new, lucrative ways forward. That time is now.”

The words hang between us, both challenge and olive branch.

Your move, Don Vitelli.

Sophie ventures. “Perhaps Cade and I should give you two some privacy—”

“No.” Both men cut her off in perfect, harsh unison, and she raises her hands in a gesture of surrender.

“You’ll speak here and now,” Nico states coldly. “So, what is it you think you’re asking me for, Romano?”

“I know Uncle Pascal led one of the worst rebellions the Outfit has ever seen.” I force myself to hold his gaze. “But Uncle Pascal is dead, and so are all his sons. Give us back our seat at the Outfit table.”

Nico raises a single eyebrow. “And why the fuck would I do that?”

Wishing desperately for a phone, I say, “Because I’ve got something you need.”

Cade immediately lays his phone on the table with the Guilty Pleasures app already open on the screen. Nico picks up the phone while I try to keep my jaw from hitting the table.

Cade has my app?

“Breathe, baby.” He laces his fingers through the one I have on his leg, and I grip back hard, shocked and grateful beyond words.

Nico’s eyes narrow as he examines the phone while Sophie peers over his arm, her expression morphing from delight to puzzlement. “Hey, I thought we were getting a live demo of Bliss Xtra?”

Nico shoots her a sharp look, and she shrugs.

“Bliss Xtra samples are being delivered to your hotel room as we speak,” Cade clips, “so you’ll get all the samples you want, Sparrow.”

I whirl to face him, tears pricking my eyes. “Cade—”

Cade only jerks his head at Nico. “Go on.”

His confidence in me makes my spine straighten, and I start explaining the features and possibilities as Nico slowly navigates through the app.

“So you see,” My voice grows stronger with each word, “Guilty Pleasures cuts away the red zones, the pimps, the drugs, and police involvement. It introduces prior consent, takes our business beyond Chicago—hell, beyond the continent—yet without encroaching on rival boundaries.”

I finish with a flair. “Anyone on earth can bring in cash, essentially work for you, Don Vitelli, as long as they have internet and a phone.”

The silence that follows feels endless. Nico’s expression remains stone, but those blue eyes have an unmistakable gleam when he finally looks up. “Did you create this?”

“I did. On behalf of the Romano family,” I quickly add.