**Stefano’s POV**

Raffaele lounged across the leather seat like a king on his throne. He swirled the vodka in his glass, never taking his eyes off my face. They were dark, watching and waiting for a single slip-up.

I cleared my throat. It felt as if I had swallowed dry sand.

“That’s a brilliant plan,” I said. The words tasted bitter in my mouth.

Raffaele’s face split into a wide grin, revealing his tobacco-stained teeth. “I knew you’d see the vision, Bernardo,” he said, his ...