Page 67 of Hers to Command

“Yeah, I am.” My tone leaves no room for argument. “Her men need to see that she has a seat at the table.”

Toni’s eyebrows stay up, but he takes it with stride. “And if she doesn’t want to invite Gianna?”

“She will. This is what she’s been wanting all along,” I say confidently. “And let her decide if Mikhail should come, too. If the Bruno’s are playing it smart, he’ll take the chance to back her publicly. That’ll ease any objections in the Bruno syndicate from people who still don’t like that Mikhail plays on their team now. It’ll be a clean cut for him.”

Toni nods, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “So you’re giving Anya the reins on this.”

“She’s earned it,” I say simply.

There’s a pause before Toni speaks again, his tone lighter. “Hope that works out for you, my friend.”

“She’s my wife. I’m not about to fuck that up.”

Toni doesn’t respond, but the faint glimmer of approval in his eyes says enough.

“Handle it,” I say, standing to signal the meeting is over.

Toni rises, adjusting his tie as he heads for the door. “You got it, boss.”

Anya

The Downsview Club has a drastically different atmosphereduring daylight hours. Sunlight slants through the heavy curtains, spilling over the scuffed leather chairs and polished tables. It exposes all the wear and tear of the furniture, stages, and floor that the dim lighting hides at night. In all reality, it’s a much better representation of the kind of crowd that currently comes to my clubs.

But it’s also familiar to me, even though I often sat in the kitchen or on the other side of my father’s desk when he still ran all of this. I grew up here. And still, it doesn’t feel like mine yet.

But itismine now.

Different enforcers have been filing in all day, one by one. Sergei has been bringing them up to meet me, though I know it’s just as much for their benefit as it is for mine. They need to see me in this chair. They need to know someone is running things again and there’s no longer any question about who that person is. Otherwise, people get fidgety and that’s a recipe for a major fuck up when people aren’t using spinners but guns.

It’ll make sure people get back to their jobs and earn money, keeping everybody happy.

Except for the girls, maybe. But that’s part of the long game. First, I need to let things settle.

Most of the men have been respectful enough. Some, like Viktor, seem more skeptical, their loyalty to my father not as easily transferred to me as some others seem to do. But I’ll let that pass for now. Better to let them think I’m unbothered and let them get used to the new situation. If any of them step out of line, I’ll have to deal with it.

Ideally by picking a couple of enforcers who are good at taking care of things. Like my brother.

Only, not him. Obviously.

But if anyone acts out, I’ll have to send a clear message.

The truth is, it’s only my first day in this office, and it’s been exhausting. I rest my elbows on the desk, my fingers skimmingthe smooth surface, and try to shake off the tension curling in my stomach. It’s not about running the club or managing the men. That part is relatively easy, assuming none of them stab me in the back, but I kind of figured once I was sitting here, I’d just be celebrating the win.

Instead, my head is whirling with shit that can still go bad.

And Riccardo.

Mostly, I get distracted by thoughts of him and the fact that we should have been celebrating this win together today. He helped me get there. He came to back me up. And I didn’t stick around to talk when he wanted to.

Maybe we would have celebrated.

“Are you holding up all right?”

Sergei’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. He steps into the office and closes the door behind him, his smile softer than it’s been all day. This is Uncle Sergei, the man who watched me grow up and has always been family. He isn’t asking as my right-hand man.

I lift a brow. “Is there a pool going?”

“Viktor was betting you’d crack by lunch.”

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