Page 4 of Dangerous Intent

“I love you too.”

Milo waited until Rosalie and Lissia were out of earshot before he spoke.

“How is Lissia holding up?” he asked.

“Better than expected, which bothers me.” I nodded at a group of associates in designer suits and freshly polished shoes as they made their way into the dining room. “Once I get her home, she’ll have a chance to process. There are so many people here. It’s overwhelming.”

“It’s about to get a little more overwhelming,” Milo said. “For all of us.”

“Why is that?”

“Dad just arrived.”

“Arrived where?”

“Here,” Milo said. “He’s in the foyer.”

Fuck!

“We haven’t heard from him in days. He’s been out of sight for months. Why would he choose now to make his reappearance?”

“We both know the answer to that.”

“He needs to solidify our position and make it known that the Accettis are still in control.”

“And what better place to do that than at the funeral luncheon of a man who tried to challenge us and ended up assassinated.”

“It’s fucking brilliant, but…”

How was I going to make Lissia understand that business was business, no matter whose funeral it was? If my father could attend the funeral of the man he shot in cold blood—my future father-in-law—then he would show that no one was safe if they went against us.

“This was a complication you weren’t expecting,” Milo said.

“Not at all.” I buttoned my jacket and straightened my tie as I hurried down the hallway and to the foyer.

“We have to trust he knows what he’s doing.” Milo followed me. “He always does.”

“I’m not disputing that.”

Entering the foyer, we found our imposing father holding court in his eight-thousand-dollar Armani suit that he reserved for funerals. He had turned Gian’s funeral luncheon into a makeshift press conference, except he was doing all the talking.

And when Nico Accetti spoke, people listened.

No one questioned where he had been or why he was back. They didn’t have to.

I had no doubts that those who had thought about aligning with Gian last month were silently praying that my father didn’t know who they were.

He did.

If my father could find use for them, he might spare them, but if they were of no value, orders would be carried out to remove them from whatever little power they held within the city. They would answer for their transgressions.

My father worked the room like a charismatic politician, corralling all his constituents as they hung on his every word. But unlike many politicians, my father would do what he promised.

Milo patted my back. “Well, it looks like the king is back to take the throne.”

A certain amount of relief ran through my veins at the thought of assuming my position as second-in-command. I had let my father down too many times in his absence. I still had a lot to learn.

My father made eye contact with me, and he dismissed his audience. He strode toward me and Milo. With each step, the more relaxed I became. I didn’t realize how much I had missed his presence until right now.

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