Page 69 of King Of Order

She hesitated, then nodded. ‘OK.’

My hand fell from her cheek, but I kept my gaze locked on hers. ‘I’m not letting you deal with this on your own. Whatever your brother’s up to, I’ve got your back.’

She smiled, a faint humorless lift of her lips, though I tagged the weariness in her eyes. ‘I know.Grazie.’

I jerked my chin at her, knowing more was happening than she admitted.

But for now, I let it go.

Chapter 15

CHIARA

The week leading up to my father’s funeral was a blur, a suffocating haze of grief tangled with tension.

I found it an effort to sleep or eat.

Rio took over meal prep, enticing me with delicious salads, warm bread, and cold meats. All laid out with thoughtful touches.

I tried eating and drinking but failed, flailing.

It seemed like every day brought another uphill battle.

From going through the will with Signore Messini to signing the transfer of the Tironefamigliacontrolling interests to me.

I also organized a funeral planner, the gravesite, and the casket, working with the hospital and mortuary while fielding calls from Olivio’s old business pals and mob partners.

Most were like sharks circling blood in the water, pretending to care.

They showed up with condolences that scarcely masked their true intentions. More interested in what Olivio Tirone’sdeath would mean for them and their bottom line than for his surviving children.

Through it all, Rio was my lifeline.

Each time I thought I’d fall apart, he appeared by my side—solid, unflinching, a calm anchor in the storm.

Without him, I wouldn’t have made it through the endless logistics.

However, nothing stung more than realizing I had to use my money to cover the costs.

The man I was burying—my father—had been stripped of his savings, and the worst part was, it had been my brother who’d done it.

I found out when I went to his mansion in the hills, needing to sort through his things. Among the chaos, I hoped to find some small security, a note or instructions that offered direction.

But instead, the first thing I spotted was the safe—emptied. The door hung open like a taunt, and I stood staring at it, my hands trembling.

My pulse spiked, rage so hot and overwhelming that I had to grip the edge of the desk to stop myself from tearing the room apart.

It had to be Claudio. The fact was confirmed by my father’s aging house valet, Antonio.

He hadn’t even waited for the reading of the will.

Robbing us all blind before the funeral arrangements were even settled.

I tossed the idea of demanding he hand whatever he’d found back to help with the costs.

However, for my mental health, and relative peace, I chose to sell a few shares I had and used that cash instead of dealing with their bullshit.

In between the interment planning, Rio made me rest.

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