Vicenzo’s POV

The air in the study was heavy with the scent of Cuban cigars and aged leather, the kind of atmosphere that spoke of power, secrets, and men who never slept peacefully. I leaned back in my chair, fingers tapping against the polished mahogany desk as my eyes bored into David, my younger brother, who stood opposite me like a restless shadow.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes refusing to meet mine, and already I knew what he was here for. David had never ...