Chapter 3
Nobody laughed.
Thomas did.
Quietly.
“You should see your face.”
Dante’s eyes hardened.
“My father is dead.”
Thomas leaned back.
“So?”
Vivienne smiled into her champagne.
Marcus looked pleased.
The three of them had expected this moment.
Dante understood that much.
Thomas tapped one finger against his glass.
“You really think death stops a man from giving orders in this family?”
Dante watched him.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Immensely.”
Thomas’s smile widened.
“For years everyone has had to sit quietly while you pretend every choice you make is sacred because you wear his ring.”
Dante glanced at the family signet on his hand.
Thomas noticed.
“He left more than jewelry.”
“What did he leave?”
Thomas took another sip.
“You still think I’m going to answer because you lower your voice?”
His contempt was deliberate.
Vivienne laughed softly.
“Dante, stop looking so betrayed.”
She crossed one leg over the other.
“You built a house full of people who fear you. Eventually somebody realizes fear works both ways.”
Ava’s empty chair beside the dessert table caught Dante’s eye.
He looked back at Vivienne.
“You chained my daughter.”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
Several people stiffened.
Vivienne’s chin lifted.
“And if you want me to pretend I regret scaring her because she happens to share your blood, find another fiancée.”
Dante’s face went still.
Vivienne continued.
“She cries when dinner is late.”
“She panics when you leave the room.”
“She thinks every adult should kneel because Daddy does.”
Her lips curled.
“She needed to learn she is not the center of this family.”
Dante stared.
There was no fear in her.
Not yet.
Only resentment.
Then Marcus added:
“And she made excellent bait.”
A capo near the wall looked disgusted.
Marcus caught it.
“What?”
He spread his hands.
“Don’t suddenly grow morals because the child is cute.”
The room became colder.
Dante did not move toward either sibling.
Instead he looked at Thomas.
“The voice.”
Thomas sighed.
“Your father recorded private instructions.”
“Where?”
“In the old basement council room.”
Dante’s expression changed.
That room had been sealed after his father died.
Nobody entered.
Thomas smiled.
“Someone did.”
Dante’s thumb stopped against his ring.
“Who?”
“You.”
A few men shifted.
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
“I haven’t opened that room in eleven years.”
Thomas leaned forward.
“Then why was your signet used on the lock last week?”
Power shifted again.
Dante looked toward Nico.
His head bodyguard shook his head once.
He knew nothing.
Thomas pulled a small brass seal from his pocket.
Placed it on the table.
A wax impression.
The Bellandi crest.
Dante picked it up.
His father had used seals like this for private instructions.
Thomas watched him.
“That was found downstairs.”
“By who?”
“Vivienne.”
Dante looked toward her.
She smiled.
“There’s your little mystery.”
He stepped closer.
“You entered my father’s room.”
“Your father’s dead.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Stop worshipping locked doors.”
Dante’s gaze chilled.
“What did you take?”
“Nothing.”
Marcus laughed.
“She took one recording.”
Vivienne turned sharply.
Marcus shrugged.
“What? He was going to find out.”
Dante looked between them.
“Which recording?”
Vivienne’s smile returned.
“The one where your father explained what should happen if you ever became too weak to lead.”
The room went silent.
Thomas looked almost satisfied.
Dante asked:
“And what did he say?”
Vivienne stood.
Walked close enough that only a few feet separated them.
Her voice was soft and vicious.
“That your daughter should be used first.”
Dante’s eyes changed.
Then Nico entered from the hallway.
His face was pale.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We opened the old council room.”
A pause.
May you like
“The shelves are empty.”
Every recording Dante’s father ever made had been taken.
