"She’s agreed to the terms," Black’s voice came through the encrypted line. "Doctor Fiore is taking her to the Stone estate now. He’ll introduce her to your parents as the companion."
"Good," I replied coldly, ending the call.
I slid a stack of leather-bound novels off the bookshelf, exposing the digital keypad concealed behind the fake wood paneling. I punched in the six-digit code to access the safe, but before the lock clicked open, my burner phone vibrated in my palm.
I took a glimpse at the screen. Adam.
I answered immediately, keeping my tone sharp. "What the hell have you been up to over there?"
"Just clubbing and making a few connections with some New York families," Adam answered, music thumping lightly in the background of his line.
I scoffed, leaning against the edge of the mahogany desk. "Be careful in America, Adam. When the hell are you planning on coming home?"
Adam was my twenty-four-year-old younger brother. When our biological parents died, I was adopted by the Stones, but Adam refused to go into the system, choosing the streets instead.
I might play the fragile, broken patient to my adoptive parents, but I didn't play around when it came to my blood. Adam was the one person in this godforsaken world I couldn't afford to lose. I built my empire in Sicily specifically so he’d never have to starve again—and I wasn't about to let some wild New York mobsters put a bullet in his head.
"My flight is in four days, Don Sullivan," he teased, knowing damn well I meant every word.
"You'd better be on it," I warned. "Or I’ll have Black drag your ass back to Sicily in handcuffs. You’re getting reckless with these drug deals."
"Mi stai facendo paura," he chuckled softly.
‘You're scaring me’
“Listen, brother... I actually need your advice about a girl… She’s one important person okay? And turns out—“
"Talk to me about girls when you're standing in my office," I cut in flatly, hanging up before he could finish the sentence.
I shoved the phone into the hidden safe, locked it, and slid the books back into place.
"Sullivan!"
Ginevra—my sister’s voice echoed down the corridor, accompanied by the quick tap of her heels.
I turned toward the door, instantly letting my posture slump, and the cold, dominant Don vanished; the timid, vacant brother took his place.
Gin pushed the door open, her eyes sweeping over me. "Mom wants you downstairs. The woman Doctor Fiore hired to assist you is here. You need to meet her."
I blinked at her slowly, giving her a gentle, hesitant nod. Behind my vacant stare, a dark smile flickered. She’s finally here.
I followed Gin down the grand staircase into the formal living room. My mother stopped speaking to Doctor Fiore the moment we walked in, her face lighting up with a warm, maternal smile.
"Sullivan, dear," she said gently, gesturing toward the sofa. "Come sit down."
I shuffled over, sitting beside Gin. I kept my head down, letting my eyes dart nervously around the room, playing the overwhelmed, sensitive patient to perfection.
"This is Micah," my mother introduced, pointing to the woman sitting opposite us. "She’ll be your personal assistant and companion from now on."
I slowly raised my head, letting my gaze drift toward her—and my breath hitched.
Fiery red hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. Striking, piercing emerald-green eyes that burned with pure, unadulterated hostility.
She wore a fitted shirt that hugged the dangerous, slender curve of her waist. My jaw tightened beneath my neutral expression. Black was right. She’s gorgeous—and lethal.
"Introduce yourself," Doctor Fiore prompted her, his voice smooth and professional.
Micah sat stiffly on the leather cushions, her green eyes locked onto mine. If looks could kill, I’d be buried six feet under. She was trying to hide her fury, but the tension in her jaw betrayed her.
"I'm Micah," she said, her voice laced with sharp, razor-thin sarcasm. "Your... assistant."
Gin bristled instantly, standing up from her seat. "You will address my brother with respect," she snapped, glaring at the redhead. "He is older than you, and you are here to serve him."
Micah didn't flinch. She just raised an eyebrow, her gaze shifting coolly to my sister.
Unable to stand Micah’s attitude, Gin scoffed and walked out of the room. My mother offered Micah an apologetic, gentle smile. "I'm sorry about that, Micah. My daughter is very protective of Sullivan. I hope the two of you can get along."
Micah forced a tight, fake smile. "I'm sure we will, Mrs. Stone."
"I should take my leave now," Doctor Fiore said, standing up. My mother rose as well, guiding him toward the foyer to see him out.
The moment the heavy front doors closed, leaving only the two of us in the quiet living room, the silence stretched taut.
Micah remained on the couch, her arms crossed, her green eyes fixed on me with total disdain, clearly assuming I was the harmless, stuttering boy the doctor had described.
Slowly, I stopped blinking rapidly. I uncrossed my legs. My posture straightened, my shoulders broadening as I met her piercing gaze head-on—my eyes turning pitch black and deadly cold.
The color drained from her face as she watched the ‘fragile boy’ vanish into thin air.
"Follow me," I commanded, my voice dropping an octave into a low, terrifying baritone.
I stood up and turned toward the staircase to the hidden passage—the underground.
It was time to show my new submissive who really owned her.