Page 109 of Shameless Royalty

Mihai steps out after his father. We exchange a glance, and I know he’s already guessing why I called them here. He nods once, barely perceptible, but it’s enough.

Giovanni Basile emerges after him, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket, his dark eyes flashing. Gio has always been smooth, charming when he wants to be, and ruthless when necessary. Right now, his presence is proof that this war with Vito is no longer just speculation.

Nikolai steps out beside him, and even after everything, after months of betrayal and fractured trust, something in my chest loosens at the sight of him. He meets my gaze, nods slightly, and I return it. It’s not forgiveness, not yet, but it’s a step toward something.

And then there’s Christian Drakos. The old man moves with the weight of history on his shoulders, his silver hair combed back, his eyes sharp as ever. He was a king long before the rest of us had even been born, a man whose name still carries enough weight to make people pause. His presence here is more than just a courtesy—it’s a statement. Drakos may not be an official Crown yet, but he’s as much a ruler in this world as the rest of us.

Konstantin steps out after his grandfather, exuding the kind of effortless danger that makes people take a step back without even realizing why. He moves with the kind of arrogance that isn’t forced but earned; the easy, predatory confidence of someone who’s spent his entire life knowing exactly what he’s capable of.

He speaks when necessary, fights when pushed, and kills when required. No wasted movement, no unnecessary words. A lesson learned from years of surviving under a father who would’ve rather seen him fail.

“So,” he drawls, his accent light but unmistakable, “who are we killing this time?”

The corner of my lip lifts in amusement, but I don’t bother with pleasantries. “Conference room,” I say, turning on my heel and leading them toward the estate.

No one argues.

Inside, the conference room is exactly as it always is—dark wood, leather chairs, the scent of whiskey and cigars lingering in the air. Da is already seated at the head of the table, his green eyes sharp and waiting.

As everyone takes their seats, the weight of the moment settles over the room. No one speaks at first, the air thick with unspoken tension. Finally, my father breaks the silence.

“Well,” Da starts, his accent thick, his tone dry. “Let’s get to it.”

I glance at Sofia, who is seated near the corner of the room, arms crossed tightly over her chest. She looks different now, smaller somehow, the usual arrogance she once carried stripped away.

I exhale, leaning forward. “Sofia has information on Vito,” I start, my voice steady. “Information we didn’t have before.”

Every pair of eyes in the room shifts to her, and to her credit, she doesn’t flinch.

She clears her throat. “My father was in deeper than any of you realized,” she says, her voice steady. “The human trafficking trade wasn’t just a side deal for him—it was his main fucking business.”

The room shifts, the atmosphere darkening. No one here deals in that filth. It’s one of the unspoken rules, a fucking line you don’t cross.

“And Vito?” Dmitri prompts, his blue eyes glinting under the overhead lights.

Sofia meets his gaze. “Vito wanted to expand to kids, but my father refused, up until five years ago when Vito started blackmailing him. My father saw the extent of Vito’s dealings and wanted out, but he knew my father would try to escape after being let out on bail, so he had him killed. From the call I overheard, Vito was gearing up to take the current Crowns out and replace them with like-minded people.”

The room is silent for a long moment before Dmitri exhales, his fingers tapping against the table. “So Vito is a child trafficking kingpin,” he says, his voice like steel. “And he’s willing to take us all out to keep that power.”

Ion shakes his head, leaning back in his chair. “The fucker’s more ambitious than we thought.”

“No,” Christian Drakos murmurs, his voice rough but certain. “He’s desperate.”

My father nods. “He knows he doesn’t have enough power to make a move unless he eliminates us first.” He exhales slowly. “And he’s been makin’ alliances.”

Mihai glances at me. “Anthony Dawson.”

I nod. “Along with Sergei Volkov and Alberto Giannini.”

Nikolai tenses beside me. “Sergei is a problem.”

Dmitri nods. “If Vito has him, then he has resources we can’t afford to ignore. Political resources.”

Giovanni steeples his fingers. “So what do we do?”

A beat of silence stretches, then Christian Drakos exhales, shaking his head. “We cut the fucking head off before the body moves.”

Dmitri smirks slightly. “For a man not in the Five, you sure sound like one of us.”

---