Andrea Pov
It's almost eleven p.m. when I step into the private room at the high-end bar. The moment the door shuts behind me, the air hits me—thick with the scent of leather, cigar smoke, and something far more potent: wealth and power. The room smells like every decision that has ever been made in a place like this, and it wraps itself around me, as familiar as my own skin.
The dim lighting reflects off polished wood, casting soft shadows over the expensive decor. There's an air of exclusivity here—something almost tangible that makes the room feel like a stage where deals are discussed in hushed voices. I slip into the chair at the head of the table, my movements smooth but deliberate, all the while I scan the faces of the men already seated.
Liam and Gabriel are here. Liam, the oldest of the group, sits with that air of authority that's almost impossible to miss. His sharp suit looks like it was made for him, and his presence commands attention without a single word. Gabriel, younger and more brash, shares my age. We've known each other for years, but there's still some distance between us, something that has never fully faded away.
Luca and Viktor round out the group. Luca, always keeping his cool and being calculated, is only five years younger than me, while Viktor is the youngest at twenty-five. But in this world, age doesn't matter. Power does.
The most dangerous thing about us is the loyalty that runs deep—it's a bond made with blood, something that's not just about friendship, but survival. The kind of loyalty that means if you mess with one of us, you'll have to face the entire Priesthood.
"Good evening, gentlemen," I murmur, my voice calm but heavy with meaning.
The others acknowledge me with curt nods. Their expressions are unreadable, but I can see the respect in their eyes. We're not best friends, but we don't need to be. The vow of loyalty among us is stronger than anything else.
The server approaches, his shoes clicking softly against the marble floor. I order a drink—a simple bourbon, nothing extravagant—and Luca and Viktor walk in right after, their presence like a rush of wind, pushing the air out of the room. No one says a word until the server leaves, the door closing behind him with a soft click. The silence that follows is thick, charged with something unspoken, something brewing underneath the surface.
Luca takes a sip of his bourbon, eyeing each of us before his gaze settles on me. "I hear you're having trouble with the Sicilians."
I lean forward, my fingers tightening around the edge of the table. "They're trying to move into my territory." I glance at Liam, locking eyes with him. "You know anything about it?"
Liam's eyes narrow as he takes a slow sip from his glass. The room goes quiet again, as he weighs his words. After a moment, he speaks up, his voice deliberate. "I've driven them out of my city."
A brief flash of frustration tightens my jaw. "And now they're my problem."
Liam's gaze shifts, but he doesn't respond immediately. Instead, Luca's calm voice cuts through the tension. "Antonio Manno's the head."
I exhale slowly, already knowing that much. "Manno. That bastard."
Liam's voice laces with venom as he mutters, "He's the kind of guy you don't forget. It's taken me eight years to drive them out of Chicago."
A tight silence settles over the table. I can feel the frustration in the pit of my stomach, but there's something else too—a quiet determination. "What else can you tell me about him?"
Luca leans back in his chair, his hands resting casually on the table. "He's not part of the Cosa Nostra."
That piece of information hits me, and for the first time tonight, a small, almost I unnoticeable sigh of relief escapes my lips. "Good to know."
Liam's tone shifts, a warning in his eyes. "You better get rid of them before they settle in. I don't care if it's blood or cash—it'll be your head on the block if they set down roots."
"I plan on doing that," I reply, my voice low but firm, my mind already racing through the logistics of it all.
Viktor, who's been silent up until now, lets out a dark chuckle. His grin is sly, dangerous, like a wolf toying with its prey. "Just say the word if you want Manno eliminated."
I shake my head, a tight smile curling at the corner of my lips. "I'll take care of it."
The conversation then shifts back to business, incoming shipments, and pending deals. We speak in measured tones, each word carrying weight, decisions that affect more than just money, but entire empires. The time passes quickly, but for me, every minute drags on like an hour.
As the evening begins to wind down, Luca leans in with that grin I've come to expect. "Almost time for the wedding."
I straighten up, feeling the weight of the upcoming days. "Yes. Less than two weeks." Tiana flashes through my thoughts—how she's handling everything. How she's handling me.
"Looking forward to it," Luca adds. "I haven't seen Peter in years."
My back stiffens at the mention of the wedding. The security detail, the five families attending, all with their own power and influence, each move they make a potential threat. If something goes wrong, it'll be my neck on the line.
"Send me a list of your security details," I say, my tone steady, betraying none of the nerves twisting inside me. "I want to know exactly who will be there."
The men nod, Viktor rising first, signaling the end of the meeting. Luca follows suit, his presence still commanding the room as he exits, leaving me with the decision to handle.
As I watch them go, my mind drifts back to the Sicilian problem. If things escalate any further, I'll have to bring in Viktor—use him for what he does best. The thought doesn't sit well with me in the slightest, but it'll be a necessary evil.
Straightening my jacket, I step out of the room. The decisions of the evening settle heavily on my shoulders. Two weeks until the wedding, and in that time, I've had to clean up all the messes, keep territories in check, and make sure nothing goes wrong.
Tonight, I step down the grand staircase of my home, dressed in a black tuxedo, and a shotgun hidden safely behind my back. The atmosphere was thick with the scent of fresh flowers, and the soft hum of instrumental music filling the air. Servers move purposefully around the room, carrying drinks and hors d'oeuvres. Guests chatted in small clusters, the buzz of conversation hanging like an unseen fog.
When I step out onto the veranda, every eye turns to me. Some are filled with respect, some with barely veiled hostility—but all of them had one thing in common: fear.
"Andrea , so good to see you," Spiros Doukas says, his voice dripping with fake warmth. He extends a hand, a little too firm, and a little too eager. I meet his hand briefly, shaking it without a word, and before he can launch into his usual boring business chatter, I excuse myself.
I move toward the Priesthood members who stand apart, scanning the crowd like wolves in a den of sheep. A firm handshake, a forced smile that doesn't reach my eyes. I greeted "Thank you for coming."
Liam whistles low under his breath, his gaze taking in the extravagant setup—the flowers, and the opulent linen. "This must've cost you a pretty penny."
"You have no idea," I reply, gesturing for a server to bring us drinks. "You'd think with it being my father's second wedding, they would've scaled it down, but Helena's a socialite."
Gabriel is ever the brooding one, glares at the guests, his eyes cold. "Do you get along with your soon-to-be stepmother?" he asks, his voice clearly uninterested.
"She's good for my father," I say, distracted by the sight of Tiana entering with my sister. The moment my eyes lock onto her, everything in the room seems to still. Tiana doesn't just walk into a room—she commands everything in it. Her presence is magnetic, and even though it annoys me, I can't ignore it.
Luca notices the shift and raises an eyebrow, his gaze following mine. "Who are you trying to marry off?"
I jerk my head toward Tiana. "My stepsister. Tatiana Dracatos."
Liam cuts in, his voice curious. "The girl with Athina?"
Viktor chuckles darkly. "If glares could kill, you'd be six feet under, Andrea . I take it you don't get along with her."
I don't even bother responding, my gaze already following Tiana as she walks toward us. Her eyes find mine almost immediately, the frown on her lips deepening. I can tell she's still angry, and still trying to adjust to the changes. But it doesn't stop her from drawing attention as she approaches—there's something magnetic about her, something undeniably attractive.
"Tatiana Dracatos," I announce a little too loudly, making it very clear to everyone in the room that she's now a part of this world, whether she likes it or not.
The men nod at her stiffly, their faces neutral, but it's impossible to miss the subtle shift in the room. A shift she had caused, it was evident she made an impression already—whether it's her beauty or the power she unknowingly commands, I'm not sure. As the introductions end, Tiana tries to step away, but I don't let her go. I slip my arm around her waist, pulling her back into the fold of the conversation.
A server arrives with drinks, and as I reach for my tumbler, my body shifts instinctively closer to hers. I can feel the heat of her against my side, the intoxicating scent of her perfume mixing with the sharpness of my whiskey. There's a strange pull between us, one I can't quite explain, but it's there.
"Not at lunch on Sunday," I murmur, my voice low, almost intimate, just for her.
She tugs away, her body stiffening, her eyes flashing with defiance. "I had a project to finish. I told my mom."
I narrow my eyes at her, the annoyance simmering just below the surface. "I expect the courtesy of a phone call if you can't make it to an event."
Her voice drips with resentment. "I wasn't aware I had to report to you."
That hits a bad nerve. I don't respond immediately. Instead, I grip her elbow tightly and tug her through the crowd, past the guests who barely notice us, their conversations continuing around us.
Once we're inside, away from prying eyes, I push her into the study, the door slamming shut behind us with a sharp snap that makes her jump. The silence in the room is thick, heavy, as if the walls themselves are holding their breath.
I turn to face her, my anger barely contained, rising just beneath the surface. "Do you have a death wish, Tatiana?"
She shakes her head quickly, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Her gaze flickers nervously, and her skin pale with fear, but there was still that edge in her—she's not cowering, not yet.
I take a step closer, my voice lowering to a dangerous pitch. "I'm not the one you want to test, understand?"
I watched as Tiana quickly shook her head, her silky hair catching the dim light and cascading down her back in a smooth, dark waterfall. The strands glinted like satin, brushing gently against the smoothness of her skin, and for a fleeting moment, my thoughts completely went blank.
Her lips parted slightly, and her tongue darted out nervously to wet them, drawing my attention to the softness of her mouth.
It was an innocent gesture. But in that moment, it struck me like a punch to the gut. Desire surged through me, an unexpected jolt that made every muscle in my body tighten with tension. I hated myself for it. This was Tiana—my future step-sister, someone I needed to control, someone who had no place in my thoughts at least not in that way.
I fought to control my reaction. Focus. I needed to make myself clear—show her exactly who was in charge.
With deliberate slowness, I took a step forward, my eyes never leaving hers. My fingers itched—not for anything gentle, but for something darker, something that would always remind her of her place. I clenched my hands into fists at my sides, keeping my anger in check, but my patience was wearing really thin.
As I moved closer, she was forced to tilt her head back to look at me, her wide, uncertain eyes meeting mine. I could feel the tension between us now, thick and palpable.
I lowered my voice, letting it rumble out with a force that couldn't be ignored. "This stops now," I growled, every word laced with a threat that felt as heavy as steel. "You will follow every fucking order I give you. You will never disrespect me again, or God help you, it'll be the last thing you do."
Her eyes flickered with a flash of raw fear in them. It took me by surprise, it was something I wasn't used to seeing in her. It was the kind of look I saw in the final moments before a man's life slipped away. The understanding that control was out of reach, and everything was about to come crashing down.
But Tiana? Tiana was terrified.
And still, she had the nerve to try me like this, to challenge me when she knew exactly what I was capable of.
A frown pulled at my brow, my mind racing to understand her. She was a contradiction—terrified, yet still defiant. Naive, yet brave enough to face me down. It grated on my nerves, but damn it, it intrigued me too.
She wasn't like the others. She wasn't something I could easily figure out.
And that made her dangerous. Or vulnerable. Maybe both. But one thing was certain: she fascinated me more than I cared to admit.