Page 40 of Cara

“Thirty-one.”

“Not far off… and yet, you have control of two Families.”

“It’s a living.”

Lunch is hastily deposited on the table, the last witnesses scurrying from the room as fast as possible. Dominic digs in well before the door even closes. I stare at him, watching the rare slab of meat roll around in his mouth as he talks. It’s clear as day he’s new money. He’s never been in this setting.

A power struggle. An interrogation.

“I’ve heard impressive things about you,” I interject, notreaching for my silverware. I’m in no rush to devour my food as he does. I'm not here for a meal.

“What have you heard?”

“You’re self-made. Your father kept you away from the family business. With all the others fighting for the seat, you’ve practically got the kingpin in your hand… Is that why Vito’s hiding behind you?”

If he’s unnerved by the mention of my father-in-law, he’s skilled enough to hide it well. “It’s…complicated.”

“How so?”

“For a long time, he was in favor of your succession. He even gave you his daughter. Sophia.”

The all-consuming darkness I struggle to repress kindles like flames at the mention of her, ignites and spreads like wildfire. It takes control to pretend hearing her name on his lips hasn’t instantly made me murderous.

“My condolences. I heard she passed. Vito talks about her often.”

Disgust drips through my tone. “I'm sure he does.”

The young caporegime stretches beneath the table, releasing a tired sigh. “You don’t seem like the type of man who’d throw awayla poltrona grandefor a woman. She must havereallybeen something.”

If I opened my mouth, I’d signal my sniper concealed above us to fire. I’d start a war right here. All my composure evaporates when it comes to Sophie, leaving me with white-hot fury. Dominic admires a photograph from his breast pocket before flashing me the contents.

It’s a photo of my wife.

Sophie. In her wedding dress.

The goddamn Earth stops turning.

He watches stone-cold violence birth in my eyes.

It’s a pre-shot, one only someone in the family would have access to. I immediately understand it was Vito who gave it tohim. There’s a defiant gleam in his eyes as he regards my wife’s beauty openly in front of me.

“Dominic,” I grit out. “I may look like a businessman to you now. You must see the suits, fine dining, and pleasantries, and think this is how I naturally do business.” I hold onto his eyes unwaveringly. “But I'm sure you’ve heard the stories. They aren’t rumors. Vito Marin couldn’t even dream of carrying out what I'm capable of doing with my bare hands… Let that be a warning to you now.”

“I am well aware you’re a man to fear.”

“Then put the goddamn photo on the table.Right now.”

He chuckles as he follows the order, finding this amusing. “Alright. Alright.Easy.”

Sophie’s wedding ring rests between my collarbones, hung from my neck, concealed behind my clothing. I had hoped this wouldn’t get ugly. I hoped he’d be smart enough to take the bribe I would offer him in exchange for Vito’s location. But I have no intention of giving this fuckeranything.

“We’re done here.”

“I haven’t finished my steak?—”

“I said get the fuck out.”

He sustains every ounce of my menace as if he knows something I don’t. It’s a useful tactic. Meant to unravel me swiftly, expose my weaknesses. He backs down first, wiping his mouth before tossing aside the cloth napkin.