Page 52 of Dangerous King (Savage Kings of New York #2)

He's standing in the study doorway, two tumblers in hand. Scotch, by the smell of it. Not the Blue Label I prefer, but still good, aged, and rare. I glance toward the stairs—toward her—and then back. Reluctantly, I turn.

He holds one glass out to me. "To your engagement."

I take it, curl my fingers around the heavy glass. "You could've said that at dinner."

"I could have," he says, lifting his own glass and taking a measured sip. "But I thought maybe you owed me five minutes. Especially since you dropped the news like a live grenade."

I huff a short laugh. "You didn't look too shocked."

"I'm not. But I would've appreciated a heads-up before you asked for her hand in front of the entire family."

I lift my glass to my lips, but I don't drink yet.

He watches me for a second, then adds, "She's good for you."

That makes me pause.

"I like her," he says, and there's no trace of posturing in it.

Just sincerity. "Of course, I would have preferred a mafia princess, maybe Russian?

Grigori Arsenyev's sister Oksana, maybe.

" He waits long enough for me to roll my eyes.

I've met Oksana a few times; she's beautiful, but also very bloodthirsty. I pity the man who ends up with her.

"But a blind man can see that Catalina makes you happy and that she's quite perfect for the role she will have to play. She's quiet, but not weak. Loyal and kind. And most importantly, she has a spine when it counts."

I study him for a long moment. "Is that your way of giving your blessing?"

He laughs, "You already asked Cesare and got your answer." He shrugs. "But yes. I'm proud of you. She'll make you happy."

"She already does," I murmur.

Thoughtfully, he looks into his tumbler. "She's ten years younger than you."

"So is Oksana," I point out.

He nods. "I suppose that's how our world works. "Do right by her, though, get her a ring before your mother takes matters into her own hands." He finishes his Scotch. "Speaking of, your mamma is going to take her under her wing, fill her in on how to be a capo's wife."

I sigh, but this was to be expected, and honestly, there is nobody more perfect for that than Mamma.

I shudder to think about the ideas Izzy would put into her head.

Thinking of… Izzy. She might need to find a husband soon, but I'll be damned if I have any idea who would be able to put up with her.

Who would be able to handle her? On that note, I finally take a sip.

The scotch burns smoothly down my throat.

But all it does is remind me how much I want her taste on my tongue instead.

Dad watches me for a beat, then sets his glass down with a soft clink.

"There's something else," he says. "Cesare pulled me aside before dinner. Told me Roberto froze all his accounts. Every one of them. He can't even access the Costa Foundation funds."

That gets my full attention.

"He asked me for a loan. He wants to keep it quiet, and he doesn't want Catalina to know."

I exhale slowly, the weight of that settling in my chest. "I figured something was wrong. Cat mentioned something earlier about overhearing you both."

He nods. "I said yes, of course. We can't let him drown. Especially not since we're going to be a family soon."

"No," I agree. Then I add, "I was thinking of offering the sons jobs at the casinos. Keep them on the legit side."

My father raises a brow, but he doesn't seem surprised. "That's… smart. They'll need income. And it keeps them close enough for us to watch."

"Exactly," I say, finishing the last of my scotch. "I'll keep them out of the back rooms, give them floor training, and move them through security and compliance. We'll see who earns their keep."

"Good," he says, and his voice is warm with approval. "That's leadership. That's thinking like a capo."

I don't say anything. Just accept the words for what they are. Rare and earned. He refills both our glasses, but when he hands mine back, there's a subtle change in his expression—a shadow behind the pride.

"I don't quite trust him," he says.

"Cesare?"

He nods once. "If it had been Izzy taken, I would've started a war. I would've pulled down heaven and hell to get her back. Cesare waited. Sat on his hands while his daughter rotted under a predator's roof—and did nothing."

I run a hand down my face. "I've thought about that too. But he's not us. He doesn't have the resources or the network. The old man had to be careful."

"Still," he says darkly. "He could've done more."

I don't argue.

"Your mamma," he adds, "she's having the same thoughts. Not about Cesare. About the rest of the Costas. Especially Sabine."

That gets a flicker of unease out of me. "Sabine?"

"She watches too closely; she smiles too tightly. Your mother says something about that girl's hunger feels… wrong."

I think of the way Sabine stood in the archway tonight, arms crossed, eyes hard. I hadn't noticed much then; my mind was too focused on Cat. But now…

"I'll keep an eye on her," I say. "And I'll start looking for some real estate, give the Costas a place of their own, maybe that'll help them settle."

He nods, satisfied. Then he clinks his glass against mine.

"To your future," he says quietly.

"I've waited long enough," I say, handing the empty glass back to him.

He smirks faintly. "Try not to fall off her balcony."

I grin at that, "Have I ever?"