Mio Sole

24 [Giovanni]

**June 25th, 3 pm**

   It's a tangible effort not to rise from my seat and snap his neck with my bare hands. I count to 10 slowly in my head, trying to control my breathing. To my sides, my four eldest sons seem to be struggling with similar issues.

   "What do you mean Aurora is here?" Salvatore asks, his voice betraying none of the emotion chasing the vein in the side of his neck to pop out against the skin. A burst of pride goes through me, reminding me why I spent so many years grooming him to take over my reign one I'm gone. He was born to do it—so unlike me. Even now, I still struggle to do what is expected of me. There've been times I've shot a man square in the head without so much as flinching, only to vomit my guts out an hour later in my bathroom.

To his credit, Christian holds his ground well. I can see why my father chose his security company for protection even before I came into power. He doesn't back down from a challenge, nor let anyone get away with questioning him. His voice remains steady—if not slightly agitated—as he replies, "Miss Aurora and I already had this meeting scheduled months ago. She will not react kindly if I ask for a rain check. And since you all decided you needed to meet urgently on a Monday morning with no notice, you will simply have to deal with her until she deigns to leave."

I count to 10 again, working my jaw as if that will ease the frustration deep in my bones that only violence can release. "She is late. I will not tolerate you wasting my time."

He lets out a slow breath of frustration. "It is 2:58. We meet at 3. She will be here at three."

Donatello taps his fingers on the wooden table in agitation as he awaits the arrival of our principessa, who has no idea that we're going to be here. There was a last minute concern about a possible threat on the guest list of our gala, and we'd wanted to clear it up with Christian's security team before the party. What we didn't expect was to show up on the one day that Aurora was supposed to check in on Harper Security.

The door flies open one second before the clock finally ticks to signal 3:00. Aurora floats through the room, raw power seeming to emanate from her as she walks to the head of the table opposite me, her usual smile and charm gone. She is all business, looking every inch a mafia queen rather than a 16 year old student. She doesn't even look over at us as she rounds the table, only surveying her guests once she is seated—leaned back in her chair with one leg crossed elegantly over the other, her fingers interlaced atop her thigh.

Her eyes and expression betray nothing as she surveys her brothers and I, and a whole new wave of pride flows through me. Not at the success of my sons for how I raised than, but for the power of my daughter that she taught herself. I didn't have to mold her into the 'ideal' girl. She forged herself as one would a blade—with fire and pressure—to create something strong enough to tear the world apart. And I'll be damned if she wasn't the most perfect young woman I've ever met. My heart swells with awe and love for the girl across from me, for the strength radiating from her and the powerful energy seeming to fill the room just at her presence.

Her cold gaze slides to Christian, who finally takes the seat between Aurora and Marcello. "You did not tell me we would have guests," she comments, her voice firm enough to send a chill down my spine. Sweetness and charm in public appearances, strength and power in business meetings. Everything I could have ever hoped she would be and more.

"They didn't tell me that, either," Christian says, glaring daggers in our direction. Ballsy move, especially considered the was Dario's hands are twitching under the table, begging to bury themselves in his face.

She holds her hand out to Christian impatiently, and he placed the file folder in front of himself into her hand. "You said you had security concerns," Christian says gruffly. "Are you here to discuss them, or just sit there silently and say that I'm wasting your time."