Chapter 22

Gabriella stared at her hand, trying to hide the smile on her lips. She would need to prepare herself for the conversation ahead, the battle she was about to enter. This was going to be a fight for her throne, for her place at the head of the table, and those about to be removed would fight. Others could turn against her, not falling in line as Marco expected. Everything was still up in the air save for her victory because, in the end, she had the muscle, and they were unarmed but...

How was she supposed to prepare herself for the next step on her journey when she couldn’t look away from the ring?

Matthew had slipped it onto her finger as they drove from the hospital back to the manor. Her uncle had been the one to give it to him, as it had belonged to her mother once. It was not as ostentatious as one might have expected, given her family’s wealth and her position, but it was another connection with her mother, and that was worth far more to her than anything she could have chosen with her own money.

One day, hopefully soon, she would reconnect with her mother’s family. She knew there were more than just her Uncle Toronto, who had been her mother’s favorite person. Perhaps, if they joined her family, they would grow even stronger.

Thoughts for another time, a more peaceful time. She had to stop thinking about them and the ring. She had business to attend to, after all.

Like successfully taking over the Santorini Crime Family.

It really was interesting, what two men with a common goal could accomplish. Whatever differences her Uncle Toronto and Marco Antorelli once had were now gone or, at the very least, squashed for her sake. If they continued work together amicably, she could take over the whole city before her wedding.

What should have been a monstrous task had been accomplished in just a few hours. Gabriella had already known who would be a problem, but while she had been sitting by her father’s bedside, Marco and Toronto had been planning and plotting her takeover.

After a quick rundown, Gabriella had a new plan drilled into her head, all from how she would approach each discussion point to cover with the old inner circle and how she would establish herself with her new one. There would still be more work in the coming days, of course, because no change of hands would ever be easy. But who could argue with the daughter of their former Boss when she had his right hand by her side, nodding?

If Marco turned on her in the end, which she was growing to fear less and less, she would truly be heartbroken. His support and knowledge were indispensable. At some point in time, though, they would have to discuss his drinking. A conversation for another day.

Murmuring hummed from the dining room, where most of the inner circle and their families waited on her. Waiting for them to take their seats and get antsy, she was in no rush to join them.

They were already on edge, of that much she knew. More than one man had demanded to know why their families were needed to attend and why they were even being allowed into the dining room. This was not a social event, so normally, no families would be in attendance whatsoever. It wasn’t good business in their eyes. Their wives were to remain blissfully ignorant of everything going on, and their children only fed small amounts of information. To have them attend a meeting? Unheard of.

Similar to the number of chairs in the room. There would be too many, according to those who had no idea what was coming. Normally, only eight sat around the table, which was odd because she could remember when there were twelve. A ninth added in would not have been surprising if Gabriella was expected to attend, but instead, there were ten chairs.

That should have set them on edge as well.

It was all a big show, a grand display, which would be completed with her tears and pleas and wrapped up with her temper. They would discover Gabriella Santorini was not her father, yet she would demand the same respect. More, in fact.

More than one man in the next room had taken advantage of her father’s ego, dipping their hands in where they didn’t belong. They would soon become suitable scapegoats in regard to her father’s health and...

She hadn’t received a phone call from the Alphas who remained at the hospital yet, who had stayed behind both to guard her father, and call if there was any update.

Nothing. So, they were still in limbo. Waiting.

She hated that, the waiting. Her patience was gone. Either her father was going to live, or he was already dead.

She needed the chapter closed before she could move on. Needed to process her next steps and what she had to do. Patience and waiting.

Much like the men in the next room, although not for much longer for them.

Running through the list of names in her head again, she placed a face with each one. She had spoken to them previously, mostly at her introduction dinner.

This was different. This was business. They would no longer be Mr. Calvet or Mr. Patino. They were their last name—or their first should they choose—and she was the boss.

Ms. Santorini. That’s how they would address her.

Although... would that be changing?

“What’s your last name?” Gabriella asked.

Matthew, who was standing across the room and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, pushed off from the wall and walked toward the desk. “Ackroyd.”

Gabriella couldn’t help herself—she winced. Gabriella Ackroyd? Absolutely not. Nothing about that name commanded fear or respect.

“I don’t expect you to take my last name if that’s why you asked,” Matthew said as he placed his hands on either side of her own.

Her pinky brushed his thumb, and he smirked down at her cheeks burned.

“Good. How attached to your name are you?”

He raised a brow at her, but seemed to think on it. “So long as my name isn’t Matty Santorini, I’m good.”

She laughed without meaning to, pleased at his good humor. So many men were attached to their last name, as patriarchy had, long ago, deemed that name to be the more important. She somewhat disliked that it was her father’s last name she had to keep, wanting to distance herself from him, but it was also the family name. She had to be a Santorini, the Santorini boss.

Gabriella looked up at him, losing herself in his eyes. He was so perfect, perfect for her, perfect as an Alpha, and she was going to marry him. Nothing about what had gone on between them had followed a normal path, but she wasn’t a normal woman, and following what was expected of her was never in the cards.

She chose her husband. She chose her mate. She chose her future.

They needed to go into the next room, and she knew that, but she couldn’t look away. Matthew could, however, but he didn’t pull back either. He lifted her left hand, raising it to his lips, and she smiled as he kissed the ring and then moved to kiss higher. His lips pressed against her palm, the gland on her wrist, and higher still until his mouth reached her collar bone.

Closing her eyes, she tilted her head and purred, a foreign sound. Matthew’s lips brushed her unbroken scent gland, making her want to beg for more.

They couldn’t, yet as his lips traced her jaw and then moved to her mouth, she could no longer resist, pulling her hand from his to wrap around his neck. He kissed her first, and she kissed back, pulling him deeper and wanting to slide back on the desk.

They were perfectly in sync, and she could smell his Alpha pheromones, drawing her in and warning others away. She needed him, needed him inside of her and on her to cover her in his scent once more. She hadn’t expected to need him like this again so soon, her body still feeling raw from her heat.

Yet she did. She needed him, Matthew, her Alpha. Needed to be his again, to be his Omega. Maybe it was their incomplete bond, or maybe she was just starved after having his constant attention for a week.

She had to have him. Now. Before—

Matthew’s mouth pulled away from hers with a growl, the only warning she had before the cracked door swung open.

Her uncle stood in the doorway, looking down at the carpet.

At first, she thought he was embarrassed, but she looked up to see Matthew glaring at the man for too long, his anger flowing off of him.

A Beta interrupting an Alpha and his Omega... of course. Her uncle recognized the moment and knew that doing so, while necessary, would also set Matthew on edge.

Right. She needed to soothe him.

“Is it time?” Gabriella asked as she stroked his stubble, allowing her nails to tease his skin.

“It is. They’re waiting for you,” Toronto answered before stepping out of the doorway, leaving them alone once more with the door open.

“After,” Gabriella promised as Matthew looked down at her once more.

His face was blank, a look she recognized as Alphas focusing, and she went onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to his jaw before he pulled away.

It was nearly painful but had to be done.

She stepped around the desk to pick up her clutch, glad she had thought to throw in a compact and her lip stain, and she checked to see that the long-lasting label was telling the truth. Glancing at Matthew, she saw his lips were a shade darker, which could have easily been blamed on her nipping at it when he kissed her.

“You’re perfect,” Matthew informed her.

Without any Alpha senses, she knew he was telling her the truth. She was perfect, ready to march into the room and demand what was rightfully hers and take power.

Gabriella stepped into the hallway with Matthew behind, her uncle taking his place beside Matthew. Matthew was not a stranger to entering during a meeting, always just outside the door if her father needed something, but her uncle’s presence would immediately be questioned.

After all, it was well known that her uncle’s loyalty was not to her father but to her mother and in turn, to her. Her father never would have given him a place at the table, despite the alliance formed with his marriage. His presence alone was a huge sign of change.

Her father’s lack of presence, however, would be the biggest sign of all.

As they approached the door, Alessandro moved forward and took his place at the back of the line, directly behind her, a few steps from Matthew and Toronto.

Perfectly timed, the doors opened, keeping Gabriella from having to slow her steps for even a moment. She continued over the threshold, head raised, focused entirely on her father’s chair. It was empty, and she turned her gaze to the two seats beside it. On the chair’s left side was an empty seat, its regular dweller having been held by angry Alphas. The chair on the right, however, was also empty, as its occupant stood.

Gabriella focused on Marco as she continued around the table.

Another man stood, this one not someone she had expected. Hugo Tocalli was a wildcard, a man with many secrets and a daughter who Gabriella was planning to trust. It would be Sybil’s words that weighed heavier than her father’s, but his respect at her entry would certainly be something to keep in mind while she questioned his secrets and true intentions.

Was he a man guilty of the same crimes as others at the table because he was taking from where his hand did not belong? Or was he like the man sitting across from him, who questioned her father but chose to keep it quiet?

That man also stood, although a bit slower than Hugo had. Not bothering to look back toward Simon as she continued toward her seat, she was pleased to know her own judgment had properly placed him. Although he was technically a Santorini, she knew her father’s cousin chose to not use his name professionally, given what his job and tasks were.

Gabriella had nearly reached Marco’s chair when the man sitting beside him, Rafael Machado, finally stood. He would be one of the first excised from the room, of that she already kne,w and Gabriella glanced toward the wall, where a straight-backed woman stood, staring back at her instead of lowering her head. Irene Machado, Rafael’s wife, was another wild card, one which Toronto and Marco had argued about endlessly. She was well known for being the only one to keep her husband still in business and was one Marco feared. She would be quite the adversary to have at her table, but that depended on how she felt once her spouse was removed from it.

“Where is your father?” Rafael asked as she approached her seat. “And why is there an extra chair?”

Gabriella stood beside her new seat, looking at the room. The last two men finally stood, but Gabriella gave neither man a glance, given they would soon be removed as well.

“There are no extra seats but if you thought there was an extra one, why is your wife still standing?” Gabriella asked as she looked toward Irene.

Irene was staring her down, but a tiny smirk curled on her lips, as though she could not resist. Gabriella returned the look, studying the other woman until, finally, Irene stepped to stand beside the empty chair next to her husband.

“I must apologize,” Gabriella continued as she turned to look away from the table and toward the furthest wall.

In separate groups were the families of Lucien Calvet, Quentin Patino, and Hugo Tocalli. Among them were the three allies she had made at the club a week earlier, who had all been promised a seat at the table. All three stared back at her, eyes wide.

When she last spoke to them, she had assured them she would be making her move slowly, peacefully. Her standing at the head of the table was likely far from what they expected.

They would have much to discuss in the coming days, but already, they had proven their loyalty. According to Alessandro, after she had disappeared from the club and hadn’t replied to their messages, they had blown up his phone, demanding to know where Gabriella was and if she was alright. If they were willing to go toe-to-toe with an Alpha over her and stand against their fathers, they would be formidable allies. But, first, they would need to take their seats.

“I know the hour is late and you would all much rather be at home and in bed but now that we know more about what has occurred, it is time to bring everyone up to speed. I know your families are of the utmost importance to all of you and wanted them to see what is happening here tonight.”

“And what is happening here tonight?” Rafael asked as Gabriella turned back toward the table, giving the occupants her attention. “Why have we all been under house arrest? Where is your father? Marco, what is going on?”

“It really is unseemly for our families to be in attendance for such a meeting,” Lucien Calvet, Teresa’s father, added.

Gabriella placed one hand on the back of her father’s chair and looked to her right, to Matthew.

With his focus on her, he nodded.

His confidence in her and of the situation was all she needed. If any scents in the room made him fear impending danger, like one of the men throwing off any scents besides nervous energy and exhaustion, he would tell her.

Good. The men would be angry shortly. She wanted confusion before she made her move and none expecting to have to fight for their life.

With a single glance to Marco, who was watching her, Gabriella finally stepped around the chair and sat in her father’s seat. It was large and imposing, the largest in the room, as befitted her father’s station.

Her station now. She was the boss, and her taking this seat would make that abundantly clear.

As she placed her arms carefully on the arm rests, hiding her swollen Omega glands from view, she finally glimpsed every man and the one woman, who were staring at her with wide eyes save, of course, for Marco.

He had schooled her on just how the theatrics worked, and took his seat a moment after, followed by Irene, Hugo, and Simon, and eventually, everyone else. There were still two empty places at the table that would be filled shortly.

Gabriella took a deep breath as she looked down at her hands, thinking about her father. She needed to act the part of the devastated daughter and allow them to think she was displaying vulnerability. These men would only respect a show of force, but showing worry for him would ease the transition. She was also hoping that, with a slight sign of weakness, it would instill peace. Every man in the room was carrying a weapon, and to have taken it from them would have been a problem. Until she spoke the words and Alessandro and Matthew had each one in hand, they could easily be a threat.

They needed to see a girl who was internally distraught and trying to be strong.

The tears she had feared she would struggle with, however, came easily as she thought about her father. Only months earlier, he had introduced her to the men in the room with so much pride in his voice, speaking of how she would take her place at his side as his heir. He had spoken of how she had grown, worked diligently on her studies, all in hopes of continuing to help the family. He even joked about not fucking with the IRS, and she had stood beside him, smiling politely and fighting the urge to beam.

After years of struggles, she had finally made him proud.

Only for it to have all been a lie. More theatrics. False.

She was a pawn in the game he had spent decades playing, moving pieces around the board. He had called her weak and had even lamented her birth. He wasn’t proud of her—she was nothing more than an Omega in his eyes, someone who would submit to him and every other man in the room if backed into a corner.

His love for her? His concern for her? They were only concern for himself. Concern that someone else would use and manipulate her before he could.

And now, she could never prove him wrong or even have the possibility to gain his approval.

One tear welled in the inner corner of her eye, and someone started to speak, only for Marco to clear his throat. It sounded thick, like he was gathering tears, and she flicked her eyes to look up at the other man.

He and her father had been childhood friends, long-time allies, and confidants. Clearly, there were issues between them as well, given how quickly he had joined her side rather than standing beside her father, but he, too, would never have a chance to resolve them.

His eyes met hers, and another tear welled, when Toronto’s hand rested on her left shoulder. It was a sign of comfort, but it meant that it was time to speak, whether the tears were ready. If she waited much longer, the men in the room would begin demanding answers.

“I must apologize to all of you as well.” Gabriella kept her gaze on her lap. She needed a tear to fall, but she also didn’t want to look up before the right moment to gauge their reactions. “It was never intended for any of you to think you were under house arrest, as the move was meant for your safety. I have kept you all in the dark for long enough but after what happened last night, we initially feared it was an attack”—she looked up, noting every man’s shocked face—“and wanted each of you safe and secured.”

Lucien peered at the empty chair beside him and then up to her, exactly as she had hoped. “Dr. Ford? Is he—”

“He is under Alpha protection as well but he is safest where he is at the moment.”

Protection was a strong word. The bars of the cell he had designed to hold Alphas prisoner were now his only protection. According to Hank, the Alpha in charge of watching the doctor, the man was fearful for his life. After all, his own creations were now turning on him.

“An attack,” Quentin murmured.

“And your father?” Hugo prompted from the end of the table, his face showing true concern.

Gabriella took another deep breath, and a single tear finally ran down her cheek. She hadn’t actually prepared this part of the discussion, wanting it to feel more natural and raw, but now that it was time to say the words, she didn’t know where to start.

“Last night, my father returned home from dinner with some of you, and he...” With another deep breath, another pause, she knew the words had to come out. “At first, we thought it was poison, but the Alphas quickly recognized that it was instead our worst fears, my worst fear. You see, for some time, my father has had... I don’t know how much he shared but...”

She looked to Marco for help, but he was sitting, stone-faced, tears in his eyes but not falling. She would have to do this by herself, then.

“Last evening, my father had a heart attack and collapsed in his office.” Several men were white-knuckled the arms of their chairs and went pale. “He was immediately rushed to the hospital, where I was informed that he had also suffered a stroke due to the lack of blood, despite us giving him CPR when he collapsed and the EMT’s best efforts. He was immediately attended to and rushed to surgery to clear the blockage in his heart, but he has been suffering with a number of health issues, all brought on by... well... he is still alive and stable but they don’t know...”

Her breath caught in her lungs, and she sucked in a sniffle, just as something soft brushed her arm. Gabriella looked down to see a handkerchief being offered to her by her uncle, and she took it, draping it over her gland. She doubted any of the men would even notice, but she needed them to think she was still completely unaware that she knew of her true nature. She dabbed at her eyes and inhaled as she lowered her arm, gripping the fabric.

“They don’t know if he’ll ever wake up.”

She scanned the room, carefully noting every reaction. No one was looking at her, everyone lost in their shock or thoughts. If they were the men Marco had warned her they were, half of the men were plotting and planning how to take advantage of the situation. Unfortunately, for them, she was ten steps ahead of them.

“Gabriella, Miss Santorini, I am so very sorry,” Irene Machado said, her brow furrowing. Concern lined the woman’s eyes. “Your father was a... great man. A strong man. I know this loss, the possibility of said loss, must be weighing heavily on you.”

Gabriella nodded and pressed her lips together. “Yes. It is... distressing, to think that my father, still so full of life, could fall so suddenly.”

Her next words had to be a careful segue, and she took another deep breath, when Simon spoke up, beating her to the punch. “You mentioned the possibility of poison. Was this route explored at all?”

“Yes.” Gabriella nodded. “It was a question we raised almost immediately and samples were taken but as I’m sure you well know, Simon, it takes a few weeks for a full report to get back. Based on the condition of his heart when they opened him up for surgery, however, it was almost certainly natural causes. We will, of course, consider the possibility that someone else had a hand in this, should evidence arise but at present, it seems the primary causes were my father ignoring the doctor’s advice and rising stress levels.”

People nodded, understanding that—well, her father was a very... tense man. He was often quick to raise his voice and, with it, his blood pressure. Certainly, he ate and drank as though he was not a man in his sixties. The possibility his heart could no longer take the stress was not one to raise too many hairs.

And if, later, she chose to place the blame on someone else, perhaps by tampering with his medication or by way of poison, she wouldn’t close the door quite yet.

“It is a natural occurrence, yet there are still those to blame.” She looked up from her lap. “I have to... no. Excuse me. Yes, there are those to blame, although the reason why they carry the blame is far more heinous a crime than simply causing my father stress. He has been anxious for some time about those around him... No, I shouldn’t. But, as you all know, the recent issue with the Marinos and Delgado... No. Never mind. I’m getting ahead of myself. All in due time.”

Every person at the table eyed her, but she laid the groundwork and named someone from outside of the inner circle who would take the blame. Of course, in truth, the Marino Family had no current crimes to answer for, and she would have to deal with them at a later date, but for the moment...

She would let them think she was blaming their enemies for the undo stress on her father.

“When will we know more?” Hugo asked. “About your father’s current status.”

“In the morning,” Gabriella said with a long sigh. “They are bringing in specialists to see... to see...”

She left it hanging. There was no need to finish her statement.

With another deep breath, she straightened and lifted her chin.

It was time to get down to business. Time to move forward with taking power, drawing lines in the sand, and seeing where everyone fell.

“My father named me his heir and until such point in time as we know more and while he recovers... If he recovers... I will be taking my father’s place at this table. It is mine by right as his only child. This was not the way I hoped it would be, as I had hoped he would step down one day but still sit at this table as we moved forward but we cannot control everything. I know that I am still young and there’s a lot I do not know but with Marco by my side and all of you, of course, I hope that we can continue to maintain control of our city and our business.”

It was good to leave that possibility there. Let them hold onto hope that her position was temporary. It would set them all at ease, at least for a few more minutes.

As others nodded, Rafael side-eyed Marco. The man was too intelligent for his own good, which was what had doomed him in the end, but he wasn’t smart enough to realize his time would soon be up.

She waited for an objection or any further questions, but none came. “This was also not how I planned to announce this but a few hours before my father’s heart attack, I was able to give him the happy news that I had fulfilled his desires for me. I am engaged to be married to one he has long seen as a son. Matthew.”

That announcement did draw a response, with several men were biting their tongues. Lucien, in fact, looked ready to swallow his.

She felt Matthew’s hand on her shoulder, and she smiled before looking up at him, wishing she could cover his hand with her own but not wanting to risk revealing her Omega glands.

Each person was still quiet, although almost everyone shifted.

She knew what they were thinking—an enforcer? A known Alpha? It was unheard of. Every man at the table was a Beta, with no understanding beyond a belief that Omegas were weak and Alphas were dangerous. Were they aware she was an Omega? She was almost certain of it, given many of their sons were Alphas.

More than likely, however, her choice of an enforcer would—at least to the world—be the more questionable one. Enforcers were not from within the family and came in from the outside. They were lackeys, soldiers, hired guns, brutes, thugs. They were not to be brought into such an important discussion and were to remain silent and blank and were of no real importance. So, to marry one?

“My father always said Matthew was someone he could trust, whose loyalty was without question. I will say out loud what many of you are thinking. I’m a woman. Weak. Not meant to take part in this. You hoped I would marry someone from within the family or perhaps an associate who would better our cause, tying them to us. But think. A woman entering a business deal, meeting with our enemies, with an impenetrable Alpha by her side, wholly dedicated to her? With eyes and ears which can sense the slightest deception? My father was overjoyed by the news.”

She had to be careful and move on, lest anyone think her news was too much for her father to bear.

“It is a wise match,” Marco said. “Too often, overly paranoid men insist on sitting down without weapons or bodyguards, while hiding bullet proof vests under their suits and eyeing each other with suspicion. No one will question your husband joining you and as you said, Alpha senses are without comparison. And who would argue with the Santorini Boss, when an Alpha stands behind her?”

There were nods around the table in agreement. Many at the table knew her true nature, the nature she was not supposed to be aware of. Likely, they had more to say. They would not, of course. Not now that Marco had spoken. No one else around the table knew of her father pushing back against Marco with the intention of shoving his oldest friend out, thankfully. If Marco, his right hand, agreed with the match, then it was as good as done.

“I am young, but I am not lacking in intelligence or strong will but what I am lacking in is wisdom. That is why my Uncle, Toronto Bertino, will be joining us. It is long past time for my mother’s family to take their place in joining the Santorini Family, as originally planned, and it starts with my mother’s dearest uncle.”

Gazes shifted to the empty chair, while others looked toward Irene, but the woman did not move and neither did her uncle.

He would stand behind her until she invited him to fill the empty one to her left. After all, seats around the table were a hierarchy, and to the others, he was new, the bottom of the chain. He was not a member of the family in their eyes, and slowly, most of the circle looked toward Marco, as though he would speak up. After all, the history between Marco and Toronto was well known, but he just nodded.

“Should my wife move, then, or will other changes be made?”

Rafael practically spat out the word wife , which confirmed all too well for Gabriella what the man thought of Irene.

Good. That should make what happened next go smoother.

“An excellent question,” Gabriella said, turning her attention to the other man and smiling, her voice eerily calm. “Rafael Machado, get out of your seat. From here on out, that chair belongs to your wife.”

Rafael sputtered and fumbled for words, not moving quickly enough for Gabriella’s taste.

Alessandro was there in an instant, stepping forward as the man rose from his chair, following orders despite his confusion. As soon as he was on his feet, Alessandro had the man by his forearms, pulling them behind his back and tugging him away from the table, knocking over the chair.

“What is this? Get your hands off me! Who do you think you are, to remove me from this table! I have served your father for years, years! When he wakes up and finds out what you’ve done—”

“My father is fully aware of what you have done, Rafael, or did you think my six years of education were for nothing? You may have served this inner circle for years, but it doesn’t take a concentration of accounting in business school to do basic math. Your gambling has always been a problem but to dip your hand so far into my father’s pocket and losing it all on cards? You are lucky your wife was intelligent enough to cover up some of your gambling with her own wealth, but you have gone too far.”

“My—my wife ?”

“Yes. Your wife. She has been covering for you for years. Which is why she will now occupy the seat you so carelessly knocked over.”

Gabriella’s gaze had shifted over to the woman in question, waiting to see if Marco’s information and her own intuition had proven correct.

Irene Machado wore a full smirk, clearly pleased with what was occurring, with no sideways glance toward her husband. The math had been good, good enough that her father had missed it, but the Santorini Family was not running any sort of fair business venture nor interested in charity, at least not as far as loans and rent went. Rafael was a loan shark and managed all their properties, collecting rent and interest. The interest rates on paper? Barely worth the effort.

“Matthew, will you pick up Irene’s chair for her while Alessandro removes this traitor from our midst.”

Irene rose from her seat slowly at the mention of her new chair. Gabriella held her focus as Alessandro continued to force the man out of the room. Rafael was struggling, which was no use against the Alpha.

“What will happen to my husband?” Irene asked, her brow raising.

Gabriella already knew what the answer was, of course, but given the look on the woman’s face and the way Rafael had repeatedly spat the word wife , she was feeling in a rather giving mood. She smiled politely, already suspecting what would happen next.

“I guess that answer is up to you. A quiet house in the countryside seems to have been the decision my father enjoyed for those he removed from this table, but none of them have ever crossed my father as your husband has. What would you prefer?”

Irene’s smirk grew, and she stepped away from the table and walked toward her husband, who was no longer struggling but, instead, watching his wife, eyes wide. He was clearly terrified at the prospect of his punishment being in his wife’s hands, and when the woman reached him, she stroked his cheek before kissing it.

A kiss of death. Very well, then.

“Rafael will remain downstairs until after this meeting, being held under the watchful eyes of our lovely Alphas, if that is acceptable to you,” Gabriella announced over Rafael’s struggle, who was begging Irene to come back and for Gabriella’s mercy yet avoiding proclaiming innocence.

Matthew had righted Irene’s chair, and Gabriella nodded to Irene as the woman approached and sat beside Marco. The other man flinched, reminding Gabriella the old man had mentioned, more than once, his mixture of fear and respect for the older woman.

That was good. Gabriella would have much to learn from Irene Machado.

With that problem resolved, Gabriella looked around the table and took in their faces.

Simon was smirking and nodding, while Lucien and Quentin sat with stone faces.

Hugo, interestingly, was looking around the table, otherwise not concerned at all. “There are still two empty chairs, if you are assigning one to your uncle.”

“One, unless Jeremy will not be returning,” Lucien corrected, the words spoken around clenched teeth.

“Yes, Jeremy,” Gabriella agreed. She pulled her hair to one side, revealing her unbroken Omega gland.

The silence was deafening.