Francesco

They thought I wasn’t watching. That’s the part I enjoy the most.

Family meetings were boring unless you knew where to look. Marco was barking orders at Nico about tightening security at the ports; we were expecting a huge delivery, but my mind had already checked out. I was seated on the far end, nursing my whiskey.

That’s when it happened—Arabella’s foot caught in the rug, and she tumbled over, but just before she fell, Six shot up from his chair like clockwork and caught her in his arms.

He held onto her tightly, as if she were made of fragile glass and would shatter any moment now.

It...