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“What are you going to do?” Killian asked, leaning back.
“I don’t know yet. But both Sienna and our father need to be warned. If the Snake attacks our men, leaving behind just one of those guns, it would give my father the excuse to go to war.” I stopped.
Killian and I stared at each other as the realization hit us both at the same time.
“You don’t think dear old dad is behind this, do you?” Killian asked quietly.
I hesitated just a beat too long. “No, of course not.”
Wen was studying me closely now. “You sure, boy? I’ve known your father for a long time. He’s always been ambitious. Smart when he needed to be. This does sound like something he’d come up with.”
Shit. They couldn’t be right. I’d been trying not to think about my own father being behind all of this—Giovanni’s death, the attacks on Sienna, and now stolen weapons and rumors of an attack. When the attack at the vote happened, they left me alive. Wen was right; it did sound like Sal. He’s wanted to take what the Rosania has, always had for years. This Snake persona was the perfect cover to finally do what he’s always wanted.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Right now, we know next to nothing about this Snake person other than the fact they’re clearly after Sienna, and they’ve been poaching our own people.”
“Seems like you’re running out of time, then,” Wen replied unhelpfully.
“Why not just, like, trick the Snake into coming out of the shadows? Use Sienna as bait,” Killian suggested.
I gritted my teeth. “We tried that. It didn’t work. Both times.”
“This bastard bested you twice?” Killian gave a low whistle. “Damn.”
“Yeah.” I tried to turn over the possibility of the Snake being my father in my mind. He had a lot going against him. My father had always hated Giovanni, and now he was dead. He’d always wanted the Rosania business, claiming it was ours right before their ancestor had stolen it from ours. Now that might actually be a possibility if he had an excuse to go to war with them. By all accounts, it could have been my father. Except…it just didn’t feel right.
“Are you going to dinner tonight?” I asked, turning to Killian.
He frowned. “We’re having dinner?”
I wracked my brain for any excuse as to why my father would invite Sienna and me over for dinner if the whole family wasn’t involved. Even with Killian’s tendency to drink too much twenty-four-seven, my mother would still invite him. Or, she’d at least make sure he knew about it. If Killian didn’t know about it, my mother probably didn’t either. And if my mother wasn’t coming, then there was a reason my father was leaving her out of it. And that reason probably wasn’t a good one. That much I knew.
But why would he invite Sienna? It just didn’t make sense. He hated her family and, by extension, her. Sal had little respect for her position as Don. That much was clear from the way he’d acted at the vote.
“We are now,” I said after a moment. “I’ll call mother and let her know. Dinner is at seven sharp. And Kill?”
His head tilted slightly. “Yeah?”
“Don’t be fucking late.” I made sure he understood. “I don’t know what our father is planning, but it’s nothing good. I need you and mom to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. Maybe we can confront him then and get to the bottom of this rumor.”
My brother held up his glass. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
I set my empty glass before Wen. “Any chance I could get a refill? It’s going to be a long ass night.”
THIRTEEN
SIENNA
Going over to the Scarano’s house for dinner was one hundred percent last on my ‘things I want to do’ list, but Dante didn’t really give me a choice to say no. This would be the first time I’d seen his father since the vote and the first time I’d seen his mother since our wedding weeks ago. Part of me was on edge to be around Sal Scarano so soon after his blatant attempt to steal my title at the last Commission. Still, the other part couldn’t help but want to get under his skin for what he did.
While my family’s apartment building was lavish by New York standards, the Scarano’s estate was ostentatious. The sprawling mansion sat at the center of a few acres of land along the coast. It looked eerily similar to the White House, though I was pretty sure it wasn’t a coincidence. Four white pillars held up a sloped roof that covered the entire colonnade along the front of the house. There had to be at least twenty windows along the front alone, all perfectly aligned with pristine white shutters. The patio stretched from one end of the house to the other, stone steps leading towards the enormous double doors.
The garden surrounding the house was well-kept. Bushes were neatly trimmed, lining the wrap-around drive made of stone. At the center of the driveway, a statue of a lion spewed water, wreathed in stone roses. I couldn’t see much of the land due to the hedges that separated the drive from the rest of the estate, but I could imagine it was just as pretentious as the front side.
I didn’t see Dante’s car in the drive just yet, and I doubted he had parked in the four-car garage along the right side of the house. Not wanting to face his parents on my own, I parked the car and turned off the engine. I sat there for a good twenty minutes before Dante finally showed up. He’d told me to be here at seven sharp, but I guess that only applied to me. I didn’t even recognize the car Dante pulled up in. Instead of his matte black Jaguar, it was a shiny new Lincoln, some bald guy I didn’t know behind the wheel. Dante and his brother tumbled out from the backseat, laughing as they hung off each other’s shoulders.
Seeing Dante like that, so carefree and relaxed, made me hesitate to get out. I watched them for a few more minutes. Killian elbowed Dante in the ribs, who swiftly wrapped his arm around Killian’s neck in a headlock. For once, Dante’s dark curls were untamed, flopping over his forehead and making him look five years younger than he usually did. To my surprise, I found myself smiling as they made their way towards the front of the house, still joking and trying to knock each other to the ground.
It was Killian who spotted me first. He smacked Dante in the chest, head tipping towards my car. Dante’s smile vanished, replaced with the calculating look I’d come to know so well. He straightened his suit jacket before making his way over to me. I sighed, slipping out of the car.
