Dinner at the Romano table was always silent, but tonight the silence was heavier than usual. Luca sat on my right, Elijah on my left. Marco and Cassian sat across from me. Every man here led a branch of my father's empire. Every one of them watched me now, trying to see what kind of man I would become.
The room smelled of wine and roasted meat, but my appetite was gone.
Marco cleared his throat. "Your father never allowed weakness here. I hope you don't expect us to follow a leader who hesitates."
I didn't look at him. I cut a piece of steak slowly. "If you're testing me, you're wasting time."
"So it's true then," Cassian said, resting back in his chair, arrogant. "You're still grieving. Still angry. You're not thinking like a boss."
I looked up. "You mistake silence for weakness."
"So speak then," Marco said, smirking. "Tell us your first order as head of this table."
I wiped my mouth with a napkin. Calm. Controlled. Deadly.
"My first order," I said, "is simple."
They leaned in.
"From today onward, anyone who talks about my father without respect will lose something precious to them. A business. A territory." I paused, letting the tension fill the room. Then my voice dropped cold. "Or a life."
Marco's face hardened. "Is that a threat?"
"No." I leaned forward. "That's a promise."
He slammed his palm on the table. "We're not scared of you."
"You should be," Luca said quietly beside me.
Marco's eyes burned. "Watch yourself, Luca. You only sit here because of him."
Luca didn't blink. "And you only speak because he hasn't cut your tongue yet."
Cassian jumped in before Marco could explode. "Enough. We're here to discuss business, not ego. Adrian, what are your plans for expansion?"
"Expansion can wait," I said. "We deal with betrayal first."
Elijah lifted a brow. "You think someone here betrayed the boss?"
"I don't think," I said. "I know."
Their faces changed. Their eyes flickered with surprise—and fear.
"The attack that killed my father," I continued, "wasn't random. Someone inside this table helped make it happen."
Cassian frowned. "Do you have proof?"
"Yes." I leaned back. "And when I'm ready—I'll show you."
Silence fell again. But this time, no one felt safe.
I let them sit with the thought. Someone here was a traitor. And I would watch them tear each other apart until the truth surfaced.
Luca spoke again. "So what now?"
"Now," I said, lifting my glass of wine, "we eat. Then, we start hunting."
No one argued after that.
The doors at the far end of the hall opened again, and a familiar voice boomed before I even saw him.
"Adrian! Is this how you run a house now? Silent and tense?"
I looked up. Marco Russo stepped in, larger than life, a grin spreading across his face. He moved through the hall like he owned it, though he was only a visitor tonight. The men at the table watched him warily. Marco had always been loud, dangerous—but loyal.
"Marco," I said flatly. "You're late."
"I like to make an entrance," he said, slapping Luca's shoulder as he passed. "Besides, I heard things were… tense. Figured I'd see the new boss in action."
I watched him, measuring. He leaned slightly against the doorway. "So, this is it, huh? Dinner for the grieving son. Everyone testing him."
I didn't answer immediately. "Stay out of this room unless I call you," I said quietly, but my eyes softened at him. "You know my rules."
Marco laughed, low and amused. "Of course, rules, rules. But I trust you, Adrian. I came all the way from abroad to see if the Moretti boy could survive without his father."
A few men shifted nervously. Marco's presence carried its own kind of threat—chaotic, unpredictable, yet protective. He was loyal, yes, but he also reminded everyone that I wasn't alone.
I gestured toward the table. "Sit. Keep your loyalty in check tonight. Observe. Learn. And don't speak unless spoken to."
Marco smirked. "Oh, I'll speak. But carefully. You're still learning how to make them fear you as much as they respect you."
Luca muttered under his breath, "I like him. Just barely."
"Shut up," I said sharply, but inside, I allowed a small smile. Marco was my oldest friend. He knew the game. He also knew I could handle it.
He moved to my side of the table, lowering his voice. "Be careful, Adrian. Not everyone here loves you. And the ones who do… might be lying."
I nodded. "I know. But everyone has a part to play. And I will see who can play honestly."
He clapped me on the shoulder. "Good. Keep your eyes open. And your heart… careful with that one." His glance went toward Isabella, just entering the room again, smiling, leaning close to me.
I didn't respond. Not yet. I just let him watch the hall. He understood. Loyalty, danger, strategy—all of it was part of the game.
The dinner continued, but with Marco here, the tension doubled. Every word, every movement, every glance across the table now carried weight. Everyone knew—Adrian Moretti was no longer a boy. He was a storm. And Marco… Marco was the lightning waiting to strike alongside him.
The night air hit me as I stepped onto the balcony. The city lights of Sicily stretched below, glittering like a sea of fireflies. I poured a glass of wine, but my hands weren't steady. I needed air, space, control.
"You always need the night," a soft voice said behind me.
I didn't need to turn. I already knew it was her. Isabella. She stepped close, umbrella folded, dress catching the soft glow of the balcony lights. Her eyes were warm, full of something I wanted to trust completely.
"I do," I said quietly. "The house… the men… it's suffocating."
She stepped closer, brushing her hand against mine. "You don't have to carry everything alone."
I let a breath escape I didn't know I was holding. "I do," I said softly. "I'm Adrian Moretti. I handle everything. That's my world."
Her gaze softened, but I could see the worry in her eyes. "Not everything is your burden alone. I'm here. With you."
I turned slightly and took her hand. It was warm, delicate, perfect. I kissed the back of it, careful not to let anyone else see. "You don't know what you're promising."
She smiled. "I do. I'll never leave you."
I chuckled softly, but there was no humor. "I mean it. If anything happens—" I paused, searching her eyes. "—I cannot promise I won't become something… darker than I am now. You might not recognize me."
She leaned closer, brushing her lips against my shoulder. "I don't care. I only care about you."
I wanted to believe her. I really did. I let myself, for a moment, forget the danger inside the house, inside the men, inside the world. I let myself imagine peace.
"Do you know," she whispered, "that some people are watching you more than they watch me?"
I tensed, instincts sharp. "Who?"
She shrugged lightly, pretending innocence. "I don't know. But I felt it. Be careful."
I nodded slowly, keeping my eyes on the shadows of the city below. "I always am," I said, though my gut told me something was off. Something I couldn't yet see.
She stepped closer, resting her forehead against my chest. "I will protect you too," she whispered.
I closed my eyes briefly, inhaling her scent, letting the tension drain for just a heartbeat. "And I'll protect you," I said, voice low. "Even if it kills me."
For a moment, we stood like that—two people against the world. But in my mind, the edge of doubt lingered, faint, just enough to warn me that nothing was simple anymore.
I didn't notice the shadow slipping past the garden below. I didn't notice the coded message she would send soon. I only saw her. Only felt her.
Isabella POV:
I slipped into the shadows behind the main hall, careful to keep my dress from brushing the floor too loudly. The men inside were laughing, drinking, oblivious to me. My heart beat fast—not from fear, but from the weight of what I was about to do.
I pulled out my phone and typed quickly, using the coded words we had agreed upon.
"He's ready to play the game."
I sent it to my uncle's man. Immediately, I felt the familiar rush—danger, power, and fear all swirling together. This was necessary. This was survival.
A soft noise behind me made me freeze. I pressed myself against the wall. No one. Just the wind.
I whispered to myself, "It has to work. He can't know."
I thought of Adrian. Of his strong jaw, his dark eyes, his hands that could kill with a thought. And yet, in his presence, I felt warmth, safety… even love. A dangerous, foolish love.
I hated myself for feeling it.
The message sent. A small grin tugged at my lips. Now the pieces were in motion. My uncle would know the moment the game started.
And Adrian… Adrian would never suspect me.
I glanced toward the balcony, toward where he had just been. His silhouette was strong, proud, untouchable. I wanted to run to him, to warn him, to hold him close. But I couldn't. Not yet.
The life I had to live… the choices I had to make… left no room for weakness. No room for love, not fully.
I pressed my hand to my chest. "I will do this," I whispered. "I will survive. And he will never know."
The wind shifted, brushing my hair against my face. Somewhere in the hall, a chair scraped against the marble floor. I froze, my heart jumping. Then I let out a quiet breath. No one saw me. No one knew.
I slipped back into the shadows, ready to watch, ready to wait, ready to play the dangerous game that could either save me… or destroy us all.