Page 65 of Of Oaths and Secrets

I clear my throat, feeling an unfamiliar twinge of vulnerability. “Nora mentioned once that she’s never been to the opera. I managed to get premium seats forLa Bohème.”

Paolo blinks at me, then snorts in disbelief. “You… you’re skipping Alexei for an opera?”

“No,” I correct him, my voice firmer. “I’m skipping a potential waste of time for Nora. My wife. She matters to me.”

His jaw drops for a second before he closes it again. “Oh right,” he says, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Did you know that the sea is salty?”

I turn to him, utterly confused. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh, I thought we were playing 'state the fucking obvious,'” he replies with a straight face.

I narrow my eyes at him, feeling the frustration boiling over. “One day, Paolo, I swear I’m going to stab you.”

He grins, completely unfazed. “Yeah, it’ll be well deserved.” He looks back at the road, his grin softening into something more genuine. “But hey, you deserve her, you know. Nora. You really do.”

For a moment, his words hit me harder than I expected. Idon’tdeserve her, but the fact that she’s here—mine—makes me want to prove it, even if I don’t believe it yet.

I glance at my watch as we pull into the club’s parking lot. I don’t have much time— nothing is pressing here that can’t wait, but there’s something urgent I need to do. I need to spend at least an hour with Nora before she goes to bed. Our moments inthe library have become the highlight of my day. Where I once went home for peace and quiet, now I go for her—for her smile, her quiet strength. After a day filled with darkness, she’s the light I crave.

But Nora tires easily, and while I love carrying her to bed when she falls asleep in the library, what I really want is more time with her—her brilliant mind, her presence.

“You should go home,” Paolo says, cutting through my thoughts.

I hate how well he reads me sometimes. “I just need to grab a few things from my office,” I say, but I don’t move. I sit there, staring at the club’s back entrance. “I trust you, Paolo. You’re my best friend.”

Paolo rolls his eyes. “Are we playing ‘state the fucking obvious’ again?”

I sigh, leaning back in my seat. “This situation with the Russians… I suspect it’s deeper and more problematic than we thought. I need you to promise me something—don’t act on anything or anyone without talking to me first.”

He’s silent for a beat before turning to me. “Who are you trying to protect?”

I don’t need to answer. He already knows. There aren’t many people I’d go out of my way to shield.

“I’m not sure yet,” I admit.

Paolo nods, his expression softening. “You know I’ve always got your back.”

“I know,” I say, grateful for the unwavering loyalty. “Alright, let’s get out of here. I’ve got a wife waiting for me.”

Paolo grins, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I like seeing this side of you.”

I smirk. “You know what? I think I do too.”

But, of course, life—or karma—has other plans. As I step into my office, I find my father sitting behind my desk. The sight ofhim there, in my space, makes my blood boil, but I keep my expression neutral. It’s been years since he showed up here in what is now my empire, and I’m not about to let him think otherwise.

“Father,” I say, my tone cool but polite. “How lovely to see you back here. Are you here to take over for a bit so I can take a holiday with my wife? Palermo is beautiful this time of year.”

He frowns, clearly displeased that I didn’t take the bait. I’m not Leo, and he should know better by now.

“No,” he says, his voice clipped. “This place isn’t mine anymore. I came to check on your investigation. Fredo isn’t a traitor.”

I shrug, settling into a chair across from him. “Based on the evidence I’ve got, it looks like he is. We’ve got footage of him meeting with the cartel guy several times. We see the guy getting out of Fredo’s car, and we see Fredo getting into it.” I lean back, trying to keep my tone neutral. Vargas’s tech guy is a genius. He worked miracles on those tapes.

“There were rumors about drug dealing in the club,” I add.

“Yes, involving your brother!” My father’s voice booms, filling the room. “I was just waiting for enough evidence to—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head. And honestly, I’m relieved he doesn’t finish the sentence because I’m not sure who I would have to side with in that scenario.

“Well, the rumors were right,” I say, trying to keep the conversation focused. “But as far as I can tell, Leo isn’t the one behind it. I found account details in Fredo’s apartment—offshore accounts in the Caribbean. The money there… let’s just say it’s more than enough to raise some serious suspicion.” I whistle for effect, but my father’s eyes remain narrowed.

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