Giovanni stood towering over Arabella, his gaze chillingly empty.

"Who put you up to this?" he asked, his voice drops of absolute ice.

"Please, Don... please, I beg of you!" Arabella sobbed, her hands trembling violently against the polished marble floor.

Giovanni didn't even blink at her tears. He simply turned his head slightly toward the shadows of the dining room. "Vivienne."

His right-hand woman, Vivienne,stepped forward instantly, her sharp suit tailored perfectly, her face a mask of cold professionalism.

"Pour the juice down her throat," Giovanni commanded smoothly.

Vivienne moved without a second of hesitation, reaching for the poisoned glass. Realizing her death sentence was being handed to her...