"Work for me... and I'll help you."
I stood in the doorway of Dante's private office, a room I'd never once been invited into until tonight. Bookshelves lined the walls, floor to ceiling, alongside maps marked with pins I didn't understand and a bank of security monitors flickering with silent footage of every corridor in the mansion. Family portraits hung near the window, faces I didn't recognize, generations of De Lucas staring down at whatever business their descendant conducted beneath them.
Dante stood beside the window, hands clasped behind his back, watching the dark courtyard below. He didn't ask me to sit. He simply waited, the silence stretching until I understood he expected me to fill it.
"You want me to trust you," I said.
"I want you to work with me. Trust can come later,
