Adriano
The moment Serafina’s voice cracked over that name, something in me went cold.
Dom Costa.
I waited until she was upstairs before pouring another drink. The whiskey burned down my throat, but it didn’t steady me the way it should have. All I could see was the look in her eyes when she told me. She’d tried to play it off—like she always did—but the fear slipped through.
She might not admit it, but she was shaken. And that shook me more than I wanted to admit.
I didn’t waste time.
Father’s study smelled of cigars and old leather. Heavy curtains blocked most of the daylight, leaving the room in a haze of amber and smoke. The desk was covered with ledgers, papers, and a half-drained glass of bourbon.
He looked up as I pushed the doors open without knocking. His dark eyes t
