ANTONIO
I stood by the window of my private study, staring out at the dark, rain-swept estate. My knuckles were deeply bruised from punching the solid marble wall ten minutes ago. I knew Bruno laid his hands on her. My men had reported the confrontation in the courtyard the absolute second it happened. The urge to walk downstairs, put my gun to my son's temple, and pull the trigger was a physical, agonizing ache in my blood.
But I forced myself to stay in the shadows.
Olivia was proud. She was stubborn. If I stepped in and played the savior too early, she would just resent me and try to run again. She needed to hit absolute rock bottom. She needed to look around her shattered world and realize that I was the only way out.
My phone vibrated on the desk. It was Lucius.
"Capo," his crisp
